ahs drabbles

"call me wilhemina" | venable x reader

Life since the apocalypse had certainly been peculiar. Your parents came from money, the only reason you'd made it safely to the outpost in the first place. Some days you truly didn't know if you'd be better off dead, like the rest of your family or stuck at the outpost with the other peculiar folk. You seemed to know so little about it. How it came to be? About the people in charge? Mead - the strange woman with the dark hair and demeanor to match, gave you the creeps. Something about her presence just felt dark. You'd always been in tune with those things.

The other lady though, a middle-aged woman in a purple Victorian gown - didn't feel so dark. Ms. Wilhemina Venable. Most of your fellow outpost occupants referred to her as "Venable" or "Ms. Venable". She intimidated many. You weren't exactly fearful of her. But you knew you should stay away. Wilhemina kept most people away though, although you wouldn't know that on a personal level until the day it happened to you.

Ms. Mead always helped Ms. Venable undress each evening. A bit peculiar you'd think, except for Venable felt the most at ease in Mead's presence. So maybe not so peculiar after all. This particular evening you'd seen something so peculiar happening. You were in your room and that's when you heard the noise. It almost sounded like someone having convulsions. You got up, tip-toeing carefully into the hallway to sneak a peek. You saw Ms. Mead leaking some kind of white liquid. You didn't know what to make of it and certainly due to your kindhearted nature, knew you should probably help. "Um, is there anything I can do?" you asked, pulling your long hair into a messy bun as if you'd need to get your hands dirty. Wilhemina swallowed, knowing sure enough that she hadn't the slightest idea of how to fix Ms. Mead. "No, no. We are fine in here," she lied. Mead excused herself from the room and went away to presumably fix her problem. You stopped in the doorway and looked at Wilhemina. She looked flustered - maybe even vulnerable without Mead. Perhaps she thought she'd have to be alone, maybe being alone after not having to be, even scared her.

It had been no secret that Venable leaned on Mead for many things. There had been rumors about them circulating the outpost for too long. You knew that Venable counted on Mead for even the simplest of things. "Can I - help Ms. Venable?" you decided to ask. You were also a purple. She took a quick - almost aggravated breath and ushered you inside the room. You had always felt a strong sapphic undertone to Ms. Wilhemina Venable. You had no true way of knowing whether you were correct or not - but so many times you'd noticed the two head women supporting each other and helping one another, even when they refused help from anyone else.

You closed the door once Wilhemina instructed you to do so and walked a little closer. "I trust you will not be inappropriate." You were a little surprised at the words that left her lips. "I never would have, Ms. Venable." She turned around, quite apprehensive to let you help. You knew though, that she couldn't possibly unlace herself alone. You watched the woman before you and almost felt obligated to say something to calm her obvious nerves. "Ms. Venable. I just want to help, okay? I'm not - I'm just me. I'll help you once and we never have to talk about it again," you continued. You were almost scared to touch her. She had such an exquisite jawline. "I've been watching you," you finally heard her say. "Me? May I?" you asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Hair first," Wilhemina instructed. You slowly removed the pins from her hair and watched as each soft dark lock fell near her shoulders. "You have soft hair," you commented. "It's beautiful, you should wear it down more often." You continued until you had taken her hair down completely and moved it to the side. "You don't act like the others," Wilhemina elaborated. "Maybe I'd like to know your story." The words intrigued and surprised you, especially coming from her. Your fingers moved to the laces on the back of Ms. Venable's dress and you couldn't help but dance them along as you unlaced her back. She had goosebumps and even you knew that it never truly felt cold in that part of the outpost. You knew well enough that she hadn't received affection in quite some time. "I'm sure Mead will be fine," you started to say, wondering if she'd been thinking of that too. "Please, tell me about yourself," she insisted again. She seemed awfully persistent about there being no silence during the activity and you complied easily enough. "I grew up in northern Michigan, with my parents and younger brother." You carefully slid the dress off her shoulders, watching her shiver. "My parents had a lot of money. My grandfather and his father founded an oil company years ago. I don't remember exactly when we moved to California. Sometime before high school. We had the money, but I still stuck out like a sore thumb at LA High," you explained, carefully pulling Wilhemina's dress down. "It didn't help that I also chose to chop off all my hair that year. My dad found out I had a girlfriend and everything kind of went to hell," you continued. You felt her tense and as you pulled the dress down you suddenly saw - didn't see, felt. She concealed it so well, you never would've known. You trailed a finger down the curvature that was Wilhemina Venable's spine. "That will be enough," she snapped, turning around. "Ms. Ven -" you started to say. "I acknowledge your help and thank you for it - now if you'd kindly leave." You saw no use in arguing, especially at the expense of the woman's comfort.

You still didn't know what she'd meant when she told you that she'd been watching you, but you definitely kept a watchful eye on Venable after that encounter. She always seemed to be where you were. A few weeks had gone by on the day that she'd spotted you in the library. "I need a word," she said quietly - yet still conveying the power in her voice.

You followed her back to her room, wondering why in the world she'd want to speak with you. "I am sorry about your familial situation. I also have no family," she explained. You stood peculiarly in the room. "Why am I here?" you finally asked. You had been minding your own business and now you were back in that dark room again. "I'd like to apologize for the way I acted. You were trying to assist. You must know, Mead is the only one here who has seen me - in a vulnerable state." You hadn't the slightest idea whether that meant intimately or in reference to Venable's spinal condition. "I want to know why you've been watching me," you said without much thought. You wondered if you could be correct. What Wilhemina had admitted about Ms. Mead did sound awfully gay. "I once used to be like you." That sounded like verification. "May I ask what you're so afraid of? If you watch me and take my help and dare I say - like me, then what is holding you back?" Venable studied you as if you were a fine piece of art. "Insecurity. Rejection. Repulsion," Wilhemina listed off. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't know me very well, Ms. Venable," you pointed out. "'I am not superficial. At all and quite frankly, I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you for months." Wilhemina's expression softened. "Even after?" she asked, implying the encounter. "Of course. I told you, Ms. Venable, you don't know me very well at all," you quipped. "Call me Wilhemina," the woman said with a small smirk.