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valerielovebug · 20 days ago

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✧Doves and Serpents✧

Larissa X Fem!reader

I have the song "Be My Baby" by the Ronettes stuck in my head, I have to try and sneak it in. (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) !NOT PROOF READ!

Word count: 2.4k

☁️ Warnings: One pitiful reader... Mention of death, No more I think?

Medusa had spent centuries in her stone gardens, vines crawling up the statues of children, men and women, young and old. It was lonely, far more than you could imagine; no friends, no family, only the cold breeze and the lifeless eyes of stone.

Saddened souls pushed into the ocean's waters with crashed ships that were manipulated by waves. The cycle never ended, until one day it did.

✧

Nevermore. The school for outcasts, crazies, freaks.

You ran up the stone stairs of the school, holding on to documents and papers for dear life; stumbling over your feet as you pushed up the papers with your leg, fixing your hold on them as you lifted the now-freed hand to the old, wood door, knocking on it a few times.

You stood there awkwardly, waiting for a response before the doors opened, revealing a tall blonde woman with wine red lips and cerulean eyes. "Oh! You must be the new History Professor, yes?" The woman spoke, her voice elegant and charming, smooth like the ripples of water. She was obviously an English woman, honestly, the entire town was American and English in the land of Romania. It was like their own little world in a different setting.

"Yes- Yes, I must be." You muttered, considering you were only starting your first day. Nerve wracking.

The woman only seemed to smile, obviously understanding and familiar with the nerves that seemed to radiate off of you. "My name is Larissa Weems, you can call me Larissa, if you'd like." She hummed, stepping aside, gesturing you into her office.

You slowly stepped in, looking around at everything. The ceiling was nothing but a bunch of mirrors, there was a giant Medusa head with a fireplace in the mouth of it with a vintage chaise in front of it. A cozy combination.

Larissa walked to her desk, "Have a seat, please." She spoke, yet her words fell on deaf ears as you admired the fireplace. "That's Medusa, isn't it?" You muttered, slightly stumbling over your own feet at a failed attempt to take a step back.

"I... Yes, it is... Or, I assume it is. I've always considered it to be." She spoke, squinting her eyes and tilting her head as she watched you in bewilderment. "Please, Professor, I insist that you take a seat." She repeated, her tone was soft but it was painfully clear to see that she was growing impatient.

You caught yourself and looked at her, your face flushing in embarrassment. "Oh, yes-! Forgive me, I apologize!" You stammered, quickly taking a seat in the chair that was opposite of her desk, picking at your nails nervously.

You held your papers in your lap, your fingers stumbling as you tried to fix their order. "It's quite alright, professor." She sighed, tapping her pen. "Since it's your first day, I'm going to monitor and help you along the way, is that alright?" Larissa hummed, tilting her head with a sweet, charming smile.

You hesitated, the weight of teaching a class with new students in a new land, along with the pressure of the principal watching you stumble over words? "Yeah, sounds good!"

✧

It was not good. You dropped a few papers here and there, making the students giggle as you stumbled over your words all at once. You almost even tripped over your own desk... You looked pitiful, but over all, the students understood what you were explaining and teaching. A few raised hands quickly fell when you finished your sentence, making look feel proud in being able to answer their questions without them having to ask it.

One of the students questions made your brain short circuit. "How does electricity know where to go in the wires?" The question was, making you take a breath in disbelief. "This... This is History class...?" You muttered, pointing to the board that had small drawings and sentences about the Italian catacombs.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes slightly squinted. Your mouth fell open just a bit, "I... That's science... You'll have to ask Mr. Hummer..." You spoke gently, taking a small sip of your still-hot honey and milk tea.

The bell suddenly rang as you were mid-sentence about how the Catacombs in Italy were used, making you sigh and nod, yelling out, "I'll see you tomorrow, then!"

You grabbed your binder, tucking a few art pieces into the pocket of the folder, along with some actual history papers on the other side before closing it. Your hands reached for a book that was on your desk, touching only cold wood. You looked up, meeting Larissa's concentrated face as she flipped through the pages with her fingers.

"Weems!" You squeaked, watching her go through your personal history book, full of your writing and self-drawn illustrations. A lot of it was random, from the Italy Catacombs, to the Holocaust, to the guillotines from France.

She turned to a page in the guillotine section, "Was Anne Boleyn's mouth really moving after decapitation?" She questioned, looking up from the book and to your pretty eyes. A faint smile graced your lips, "Well, it's a story that's exciting to think about... But it seems highly illogical that it actually happened." You replied, not wanting to seem desperate for the book back in your hands.

"After decapitation, the head is still conscious for maybe 25 to 30 seconds. Though, you have very important muscles in your neck that are needed to be able to move your mouth. So, using that logic, her mouth was most-likely not moving since her neck was severed." You rambled, obviously fascinated by the idea, but not able to deny the facts.

It would be nice to be able to believe impossible things, but even so, you had always liked to be logical about things. "It's an amazing story, fun to believe and think about... But science has to ruin things for you." You hummed, slowly extending a hand, silently asking for the book back.

She gave a small huff but reluctantly placed the book back into your hands, her fingers lingering on the brown leather. “I hope someday you’ll lend it to me, your illustrations are beautifully drawn.” She spoke with a kind smile, clasping her hands together in front of her as she looked down at you. There was a little shimmer in her eye, one that was filled with curiosity and intrigue, which made you slightly flustered.

“Oh, it’s just common information… I can give you the sections and they’re easy to find on Google?” Lie. The information was on google, but it wasn’t easy to find. You had gone down rabbit hole after rabbit hole, taking information from every website you came across and then matched up what made sense. Only when everything matched up in perfect understanding did you write it down. A history buff at its finest, you supposed.

A disappointed frown snuck onto Larissa’s face, making you slightly wince at the fact you had upset her. You looked around awkwardly, obviously not easy to convince, no matter how badly you wanted to give in. History was important to know, and fun to teach and explain, but by the Gods- you were attached to that book. It wasn’t even finished and yet it had taken you about a year to get as far as you were, spending maybe a month on each subject before writing down what you knew, along with drawing the illustrations.

“I uhm… It’s a very important book to me… I’d have to be sitting right beside you in order for you to look at it.” You spoke shyly, not wanting to upset her any further. She only hummed, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked at you, making you feel incredibly small, which was not on your first-day bingo list. “Is it a finished book?” She questioned, her voice kind despite how you felt.

You hesitated, knowing that it was thick enough to compete with the fifth book in the Harry Potter series, which held 912 pages. “Uhm…” You trailed off, looking at the book. “There's maybe two or three more things I have to write down before I move on to the next journal…” You spoke with a subtle shrug, looking up at her, noticing her eyes soften.

“I see… Well, when it’s finished, perhaps we could read it together in the library? I find it very intriguing since you were the one who wrote and illustrated it.” Her voice was kind and understanding, but mainly patient. A small smile formed on her vermillion lips, making your heart flutter in pride.

It was an enticing offer, an offer that honestly made you feel special. The idea of being close to her in order to read the book made your nerves slightly spike, since you didn’t really like people in your personal space. Yet the idea of being noticed for simply writing history articles in a journal did excite you, more than you cared to admit. “Yeah… Sure, that sounds alright… I can estimate that it might take me a few weeks to finish it since there's so much history on the dancing Plague of 1518.” You finally spoke, looking down at the book as you placed it into your bag.

“The dancing plague?” She questioned, obviously baffled at the idea of dancing being a horrible plague. It made you genuinely smile, the thought of introducing something new to her and being able to teach it to her in a depth that not many would be aware of. (Considering all the time it took to surf the web on a single subject took you weeks and only a day or two to write things down and illustrate.) You nodded your head slightly, “The name speaks for itself. Though, I’d be glad to teach you all about it when we go over my book whenever it’s fully finished?” You hummed, obviously excited to impress your boss with information she never knew existed.

Her smile widened, excited by your offer. “Yes! That sounds exciting! I’m sure you have some other history subjects that I’m unaware of, perhaps you could show me them?” She quipped, her pearly white teeth charming you, the way her eyes slightly squinted and wrinkled the corners of her eyes, it was prideful to say that you were the one to make her smile so big.

You nodded kindly before letting out a hum, “It’d be an honor… Dinner is starting, I think.” You muttered, looking at your watch, still getting used to the schedule, “Also, I haven’t gotten a spare key for my room… would it be alright if I made a copy? I tend to lose things a lot.” You added, looking up at her from your watch, reaching for your bag but horribly missing, making you look down and sigh.

“Yes, I believe it’s chicken and dumplings tonight, a warm welcome into winter, don’t you think?” She spoke pridefully, slightly lifting her chin. It made you smile, seeing how happy she was with her dinner choice. “A warm welcome indeed, perhaps I can suggest Risotto for another dinner? It’s a great Italian dish.” You muttered, picking up your satchel bag, putting it on your shoulder.

She tilted her head, studying you for a moment. What an odd thing, you suggesting an Italian dish other than pizza, lasagna, or spaghetti? You didn’t even sound Italian, but, then again, no one in their town spoke Romanian or had a Romanian accent. “That sounds lovely… I’ll suggest it to the chef.” She muttered, looking down at her red painted nails. “Would you like to walk down to dinner with me? We can stop by your room so you can lay your stuff down?” She suggested, looking at you curiously.

A simple smile graced your lips, “No need, I’ll take my stuff with me.” You hummed, grabbing your drink bottle, gesturing towards the door, indicating that you were ready. She nodded and walked out of the classroom, waiting patiently as you closed up your classroom, but not locking it just in case a student forgot anything. You turned to her and walked along with her, making sure to keep the same relaxed pace with her strides. The air was light, yet it was an awkward quiet. “What made you want to become a History professor?” She spoke, breaking the treacherous silence.

It took you a moment to think about your answer, finally opening your mouth to speak. “It was never really a part of the plan, if I’m being honest. My dream was just to be a poet or an author, but my complex dream was to be an astronomer. Which, it’s not going to happen since I'm pretty bad at Math.” You muttered, slightly shrugging, “Yet, the thought of working in this huge gothic highschool was also pretty cool. Not to mention the students are nice and reasonable.”

Her smile widened at the mention of her students and her school, it was something she prided herself on; rightfully so, too. She looked at your face, admiring the beautiful color of your skin, then your eyes. “You look like a History professor.” She hummed, making you slightly confused, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You turned your head in silence, trying to figure out how you felt about that. “It’s a compliment. It makes you silly smart on topics for listeners.” She spoke, gently bumping your shoulder with her arm.

A little smile formed on your lips, it wasn’t usual for you to talk a lot, usually you were the listener when others spoke. But, at the same time, you would get really heated when a certain topic was brought up, especially when you argued with people during back-and-forth debate. “I suppose so.” You muttered, glancing over at her with a little sparkle in your eyes.

It was clear that you and the principal would get along well, but only time will tell. Dinner was filled with discussion between you and Larissa while sweet songs played from one of the student’s speakers, “DJ” was her name, or at least her nickname. This time, the song theme was “Vintage” from what the girl called it, making you smile and shake your head as the playlist shuffled through Frank Sinatra, Tim Curry, Elvis Presley, and The Ronettes. The Ronettes were currently playing, “Be my Baby” while some of the students danced around. You looked at Larissa, biting back a grin as she held her bowl to her mouth, drinking the remaining broth from her chicken and dumplings.

It was endearing, and that’s when you decided, this place was your forever home.

✧

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