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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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Cordelia or Wilhelmina feeling upset but doesn’t have anyone to talk to but the reader seeing the, struggle and help out

Thanks for the request ☺️ of course I chose Wilhemina haha. This one is sweet and short.

You’re the definition of strong

Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Warnings: a ton of fluff, insecurities (not her back though because I just refuse making that her only trait)

It’s been two months since the leader of the outpost, Wilhemina Venable, and you made your relationship public to everyone in the outpost. It wasn’t a big shock for most of the people for the once so stern leader became soft. Wilhemina Venable became the best leader one could imagine and with your soft spirit by her side the outpost became unbeatable. Wilhemina ruled, still with a strong hand but no violence included, while people came to you whenever their hearts felt heavy. It was a truly beautiful community to live in.

One night at dinner, however, you saw your girlfriend clenching her fist around her fork like she was challenging the piece of metal who would be the strongest, who would stand through the pressure. Your hand slowly made its way to the older woman’s knee, coming to an hold there and tracing small patterns on it trying to losen her up. After a while however you could see the glistening in her eyes. You squeezed once where your hand is still laying still on her knee but when she looked at you your face fell for all that you could see was that old, long forgotten coldness that once graced the woman’s features ever day.

Her head snapped back quickly. “You’re dismissed.” She called out into the crowd even though everyone was still sitting, eating and laughing. When everyone just looked at her in shock, probably also not knowing that cold voice anymore, she added a stern “Now.” that didn’t leave any space to discuss. You retreated your hand slowly, waiting for everyone to leave before looking at her, waiting for her next move patiently. You knew that’s what you would need right now. A lot of patience. After a while just sitting on her chair, staring down her plate she spoke up again. “You are dismissed as well.” You scoffed. “I’m dismissed?” you asked her as if her previous words would have been a joke you tried to understand. Wilhemina just turned her head, looking at you as if she was a hunter and you would be her next prey, just waiting for you to say even more so she would lose her last empathy for you and shot the bullet. After a while of her not answering you cleared your throat remembering your strategy.

Patience.

“I don’t know what’s going on right now Wilhemina but don’t try to shot me out and please stop talking to us like we are your servants.” Her eyes shot to yours with that statement, slowing getting up before towering over you dangerously. You weren’t scared. “I know it’s been a while y/n but you were indeed just my servant so I suggest you to be quiet before I make you one again.” You laid your hand on one of hers that was resting on the table to hold her up in her range. Her words hurt of course but you decided to not give them too much attention because god knows how much you adore that woman. “Minnie,” You started, caressing her hand. “it’s okay. You don’t need to protect yourself from me.” she looked at you a while longer before just slipping into her chair again. Her hand underneath yours started shaking slowly. “What if I will mess up?” She said with a shaky, almost unbearable voice. You continued caressing her hand. “Look at me.” Her watery eyes met yours and you just couldn’t help but cup the cheeks of your distressed lover. “You save our life. Every single day Minnie. You can do it and you know why I know that?” she shook her head. “Because you already do it every single day. We are nothing without you.” You got up kneeling infront of her, now caressing her tensed legs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not strong enough for this.” She said. “I always wanted to be a leader, a bit more responsibility but this? I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t ask for this.” You nodded your head understandingly. “I know.” You got up, bending down slightly so your faces were met on the same level. You placed a tender kiss on her lips before cupping her cheeks. “It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. That doesn’t make you weak, that makes you even stronger.” That made her chuckle looking down at her hands. You gave her a confused look. “What is so funny?” She took your hands in hers. “Well petal, then you’re the definition of strong.” You looked at her puzzled before bursting out into laughter, after a while you looked at her puzzled before bursting out into laughter, after a while she joined me. “There it is.” You said between laughing. Now it was her turn to be confused. “That amazing laugh of yours.” She just rolled her eyes, slowly getting up and walked past you.

At the door she stopped. “Come to bed, it’s late.” and so you did but you could swear you saw a slight blush coating her face.

#american horror story #sarah paulson #fanfic #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #ahs fandom #billie dean howard #sarah paulson x reader #ahs fanfiction #billie dean howard x reader

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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by Dmitry Alekseev

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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Thanks for the tag @thedeconstructionist 🔆

I assume I have to answer what I like to write? I’m not really sure haha

I tag: @rabexxpaulson @orchidsshine @mistysswampmud @max-the-d0g and everyone who wants of course :)

This or That: Fic Writers Edition

I remember seeing that fic preferences meme but I didn't know if I was supposed to answer what I liked reading or what I liked writing. (So I went with reading). So this is meant for writers!

And if you do both of a question, which do you do more?

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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Requests are open people :)

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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i love how delusional some articles of clothing are, like you read the tag and its like “hand wash only/tumble dry on low” son you are a cotton tshirt. youre going in the warsh and whatever happens in there is in gods hands

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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Posting my cute little family because there’s nothing more adorable than them.

Happy 2023 everyone. I hope you will be happy ✨🍀

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Wilhemina Scrooge

Stave Five

Words: 3.2k

summary: A Christmas Carol Au. Alternate timeline, where the spirits (other sarah characters) are from other timelines and do not exist in this one, but still exist and Mead’s story is different. You are the Bob Cratchet character and have a son, congrats you are a mother! All quotes in the beginning of chapters are from the original short story by Charles Dickens. Stave - verse or stanza of a poem.

Taglist: @betchiwilleatyou ,@strawberryshorttcakkee @ninaahs,@setsuna1415,@golddustdykes,@simphousestuff,@naomi-m3ndez , @cordeliass , @saucy-sapphic , @madamevirgo , @slut-for-sarah ,@paulsonsratched , @rwoolfe

Merry Christmas to those of you that celebrate

stave 1, stave 2, stave 3, stave 4,

Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!

Wilhemina gasped.

After finally being able to close her eyes, she expected the sweet relief of death, not air filling her lungs, not warmth on her cheeks.

She could breathe. She could breathe, she was in her bed, her warm, comfortable bed and a ray of sunshine cast a heavenly beam of light onto her bedspread. Was she really back? After all that time?

She blinked, (because she could do that again) and tipped her head back to bask in the sunlight.

Wilhemina was alive and it was a new day. Her alarm clock read 7am. She reached for her phone and saw that it was the 25th, Christmas day, of the same year she left.

But months passed while she lay on that floor, how could it only have been a night?

It didn’t matter if it really happened, the spirits showed her the truth, the truth of who she was or rather who she had become. Even if it wasn't a dream, which it couldn't have been, it didn't matter.

She had work to do.

She picked up her phone and made a few calls. No one was very happy to hear from her on Christmas morning, but once she described the situation and explained how time sensitive it was - not to mention her demeanor from the moment they answered the phone was apologetic and sweet, instead of her usual demanding and impatient - they were more than willing to help.

While she waited for them to fax over the important documents she’d need you to sign, Wilhemina searched her cupboards for the perfect wine to bring over and fretted over how much time you’ve already spent terrified of what the future held. Were you even able to enjoy the holiday morning with your son, when you thought it would be the last you’d spend with him?

Wilhemina stood in front of the door to your apartment, hand shaking as she reached for your doorknob. What would she say, if you asked her how she knew where you lived? She couldn’t tell you that she spent years condensed into one evening being dragged around by angry Christmas Spirits (who looked just like her) and that she was shown your life as a way to make her see the error of her ways. Could she? Of course, that wasn’t the only thing to worry about either, more pressingly was the way she left things. How would you receive her when she so cruelly dressed you down for simply inviting her over, not twenty-four hours ago?

After she knocked, Wilhemina heard some shuffling on the other end of the door and the sound of your voice, perhaps you were asking Spencer to be quiet for a moment.

You opened the door and didn’t even look up, before you started speaking, “You said I could have one more-”

“Merry Christmas.” Wilhemina said, interrupting your rant that was clearly not meant for her.

Your head snapped up and your mouth hung open as you stared at her. “Oh no. Did I forget to file something?” You asked, she did have some papers under her arm, but you noticed something else and your brow furrowed. It was a bottle of wine in her hand, red and by the label a good vintage. Was there any chance she was there by mistake? Was there someone else in your building that she might know well enough to have plans with them? Doubtful.

Wilhemina bowed her head, raised and lowered her shoulders before meeting your eyes, “No.” She answered, “I ..uh seem to remember an invitation….” She lowered her eyes and they landed on her cane where her fingers were nervously tapping.

It took you a moment to process what she said. After your conversation the day before, you weren’t looking forward to seeing her again and you weren’t expecting to until the next work day.

When you didn’t speak she asked, “May I come in?”

You were so blindsided by her arrival that you just stepped aside without really thinking about it.

Spencer was engrossed in playing with his new Christmas toys, particularly a plastic drum that he kept banging away on and didn’t notice the visitor.

Wilhemina smiled when she saw him, “Quite the little percussionist, you’ve got here.” She said to you as you closed the door.

She sounded amused, but just in case you heard her wrong, you said rather defensively, “It’s a toy, kids like toys.”

“Maybe he’ll have a future with a big brass band.” She said with another smile. You never saw her smile so much in all the time you worked for her.

You turned to her with a glare in your eye, “Is that a dig at his future prospects?”

“No..” Her voice was meak, “Music is a fine career choice as long as he doesn’t fall into a drug habit or-”

“Why are you here?” You asked, interrupting her.

“Oh..uh you did invite me, didn’t you?”

“And you declined the invitation and insulted me and my son at the same time.”

“ I’d like to apologize for that. I was very rude-”

“You’re always rude.”

“Well..” she sighed, “I’d like to change that.”

“Would you? Really?” You asked. You were skeptical, but it was strange, that she seemed nervous, you never saw her nervous before.

“Yes and I was about to say,I know that you wanted a raise, but I found you another job instead..”

“You came all this way just to fire me?” You asked.

She slapped the stack of papers into your chest and let go, forcing you to take them, “Just read over the offer and hopefully sign it, quickly. I understand there is some urgency..isn’t there?” She asked you.

You blinked at her for a moment and glanced at the paperwork. Your eyes widened when you noticed the underlined figure listed under: starting salary. “Wait a minute..urgency..how do you know about that?” You asked.

“There is, isn't there? Look it over of course, but I’m guessing you’ll want it signed by tonight so they can fax over a confirmation. Do you have a fax? I didn’t bother to check.”

“There’s a fax machine in the lobby. What do you mean you didn’t bother to check? What is this? Why would you find me a better job?”

“You need money, yes? Even with a raise it wouldn’t be enough to lift you out of this dump, you’d keep your head above water sure, but you shouldn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck especially with a sick son and needing time off to take care of him-”

“Wait how do you know about-”

“You must’ve mentioned it.”

You shook your head,“I don’t believe I did, no.” you said.

“Do you want the job or not?” She asked, tilting her cane from side to side in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture.

You walked over to your small table and sat down with the paperwork. She placed the wine bottle on the table and stood over you for a moment, unsure of what to do. As you began to read, Spencer finally looked up from his plastic drum and noticed the strange lady in his home.

“Who’re you?” He asked her in his cute little voice that nearly had her melting at first utterance.

She smiled down at him and said, “My name is Wilhemina Venable.”

“You’re wearing purple.” He observed.

She nodded, “Yes I am, purple is my favorite color, do you have a favorite color?”

His smile was wide and silly, it took up his whole face when he answered, “Uh huh! I like yellow.”

“Yellow huh? That’s a very happy color.”

The sound of conversation distracted you from your reading, but when you finally tuned into it, you found that Wilhemina was crouched down near Spencer so she could talk to him face to face.

“Aren’t you hurting your back like that?” You asked.

Wilhemina shrugged and continued to ask Spencer about his new toys and various interests as though he were a fascinating conversationalist and not a little boy who had a small vocabulary.

“I signed it.” You said and that got her attention.

She tried to get up too fast and stumbled forward, her cane slipped, leaving her without support. Your hand clasped over her forearm just before her face would have smacked into the floor. Slowly and steadily you pulled her up, though your arm shook, you never faltered. You didn’t notice that your other hand landed on the dip in her hip until she swayed in your arms. Her face was so close to yours for just a moment. There was a slight blush across her nose, it made her seem softer somehow. As soon as she was upright again, you let go.

For some reason it was hard to meet her eyes when you handed her her cane.

She coughed into a closed fist, “Thank you,” she said. “You said you signed it?”

You nodded, “This isn’t a trick is it?” you asked.

She shook her head, “No.” She said, “I’ve been doing some thinking, took stock of my life and …I didn’t like what I found, so I thought I’d change things. I brought wine!”she said and gestured to the bottle on the table, “And I would have brought something for Spencer, but I thought it might be a little presumptuous, not to mention all the stores are closed.”

“Yesterday you were-”

“Mean? Cruel? Contemptuous?” She suggested.

“That sounds right.” You agreed.

“I understand you being suspicious of me,” she said, “But I really want to change. I want to be better. I thought getting you a better job would be the first step. It’s a real offer. I have many contacts, you know through the boys. You’re a wonderful assista- were a wonderful assistant, the best I’ve had actually. It wasn't hard to find someone who needed to fill a position and were able to pay you more of what you’re worth. Maybe it could even stop the-” She stopped herself, realizing that what she was about to say would reveal just how much she knew about your current predicament.

“Stop what?” You asked.

“Oh just uh..stop living..like this,” It was a struggle for her to figure out what to say, and that was definitely not the right thing.

“Hey, I know it’s not the best but I’ve done everything I can to give my son a good life and-”

She placed a gloved hand on your forearm that stopped your defense instantly, “I didn’t mean to insult you dear. All I meant was that you deserve better,” she said.

You were startled by her use of the pet name. Whenever she used a term like before it was always with disdain and disgust, but this time, there was something about the way she said it, you almost thought she meant it, meant that you were someone dear, maybe not to her, but in general.

“You really do want to change don’t you?” You asked.

“Yes, I do. I really really do,” she said.

She was true to her word and didn’t disappear from your life the second you were on your feet. She was a constant presence, there whenever you or Spencer needed her. And the job she found for you did stop social services from taking Spencer and eventually they didn’t even bother to check up on you anymore. You had insurance now and never had to worry about running out of medications or anyone forgetting to administer them, because you’d never forget. Spencer wasn’t cured, but consistent medical care meant that he was as healthy as he could be.

There was just one thing missing.

It was two years later, when she told you over a glass of wine about her night with the spirits. At first you thought she was talking about a very vivid dream, but after a while you came to accept that something profound happened to her that night, whether it was a bad trip from some underprocessed food or if she really did experience a visitation. But she made it clear over and over again that you were a key in saving her soul, that helping you was something she had to do.

But there were times, moments when you thought- But that was silly, she’d never, she couldn’t and you were..She was your friend and she was there for Spencer, that was enough.

Five years later:

Spencer was eight now and loved pirates, so before going to your Christmas party, Wilhemina decided to pick him up a book on pirates. But unlike the books he’d usually look at, with all the pictures and minimal words, she picked him up a nice non-fiction book about real life pirates from the past.

Your apartment was open so she let herself in and saw that the rest of your guests had arrived, not many, it was just a small dinner party. You were busy finishing up the meal and putting out plates of finger food, so she placed the present for you on a side table and set out to find Spencer.

He was in a corner on a bean bag chair with a remote control for a little car that he was maneuvering through the legs of the mingling guests. She sat on the edge of the couch next to him and hung the book from her hand, directly in his field of vision.

“It’s a book.” He said without much enthusiasm.

Wilhemina nodded, “About pirates.”

“It’s so thick.” He said.

“But it’s about real pirates,” She whispered as though it were a secret, “not make believe.”

His eyes grew wide, “There were real pirates?” He asked.

She grinned at him, “Oh yes, and so much more interesting than Captain Hook, I assure you.”

“Let me see! Let me see!” He put down the remote control and Wilhemina heard several sighs of relief from the other adults in the room who would no longer have to dodge a little car while conversing with one another.

She smiled and patted the seat next to her on the couch. He sat down and she handed him the book.

And that’s how you found her, next to your son and helping him when he found a word he didn’t know, got him to sound them out and patiently explained each definition to him.

After he finished a chapter, Spencer asked Wilhemina a question no one in the room was expecting: “Are you going to be my other mom?”

There was a hush around the room, no one spoke, no one even took a sip of wine or a bite of cheese. Your fists clenched and jaw tightened as you watched for her reaction.

Wilhemina blinked and swallowed before saying, “Why would you ask that?” It was clear to you that she wasn’t offended, just curious.

Spencer thought for a moment and said, “You’re around all the time, you bring me presents. None of Mom’s other friends bring me presents. You smile at her a lot like I’ve seen Danny’s mom smile at his dad.”

“No sweetheart,” You answered from the doorway, “Remember we’re just steps to her salvation.”

“What do you mean by that?” She asked.

You shrugged, “I have to check on the ham,” you said and rushed back to the kitchen.

She lifted Spencer off of her knee and went after you.

“What did you mean?” She asked from under the door frame.

You inhaled, sharply, but turned back to arranging the food, “That’s what you keep telling me isn’t it? That we’re an obligation, a way to make up for all the wrong you’ve done?” you asked.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said.

You spun around,“Then how did you mean it?” you asked, hands braced on the counter.

“I just..” She glanced away for a second, “I just..I didn’t want you to think that I did this on my own. Without the spirits..”

“The spirits, the spirits,” you repeated having heard her talk about them many many times before, you were sick of hearing about them. They seemed to you to be an excuse not to move forward. You had a good thing together, would it really be too much to take it a step further?

She continued as though you hadn’t said anything, “Without the spirits, I would not have changed. You have to know that I couldn’t have done it on my own. I wouldn't have changed on my own. It took divine intervention, literally, to get me on the right track.”

You threw your hands up in the air, “So what?” you asked.

“So…a good person would have realized who they had become, a good person would have changed without help..”

“And?”

“And I’m not a good person..you shouldn’t..”

“I shouldn’t?”

“You shouldn’t get attached.”

You sighed and rubbed your forehead with the tips of your fingers, feeling a headache coming on,“If you didn’t want us to become attached to you, you shouldn’t have stuck around so long, you shouldn’t have been so consistent or-”

“I had to be sure you were alright.”

“Well we’re alright, now what?” You snapped, “Are you going to leave and never talk to us again or will you just call us from time to time, you know, just to make sure we’re still alright?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Of course, that’s not what I fucking want. Jesus Christ, Wilhemina. I want you to talk to me. I want you to admit that we mean more to you than as a means to an end. I want you to just be honest, please. ”

Her eyes softened, “Of course you’re not a means to an end. Spencer makes me feel useful and needed and you-you,” she suddenly got quiet, her voice barely a whisper when she said, “You’re everything to me.”

You stepped into her bubble and she stepped backwards until her back hit the wall behind.

“I can tell you’re afraid. But I don’t know what you’re afraid of.” You whispered into the miniscule space between you.

Her gaze fell to the floor and she answered, “I’m afraid of not being good enough.”

“For?”

“You.”

You raised your hand and caressed her cheek. Her resolve crumbled and she leaned into your touch.

“At this point,” you began, “I don’t think Spencer would accept anyone else in our lives,” you smiled and added, “I think I’m stuck with you.”

“Given time he could get used to someone else,” she whispered.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to get used to someone else,” you said and leaned forward to press your lips to hers, a light, soft kiss to ease her in,“and maybe I don’t care that you needed someone to guide you to the right path,” you whispered, just a breath apart and then kissed her again, your thumb curved under her jaw to pull her closer as you deepened it, and just as you had her leaning forward and her mouth was opening to you, you pulled away and said, “because they led you to me.”

You took a step back to see her eyes still closed, her lips still parted and you grinned.

After a moment, she opened her eyes, and on seeing you staring back at her, she blushed so deeply that the color nearly matched her hair.

From your living room, you heard a thunderous applause. You put your head in your hands, trying to hide, but you supposed it was only fair that both of you should be embarrassed.

“Should I change my answer to Spencer’s question,” She asked you, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, “To maybe?”

You shook your head, “No, you should change it to definitely.”

The End

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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Me: Writing is a HOBBY and supposed to be relaxing. It's all nice, really :)

Me when I'm actually writing: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

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Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Wilhemina Scrooge

Stave Four

Words: 3.4k

summary: A Christmas Carol Au. Alternate timeline, where the spirits (other sarah characters) are from other timelines and do not exist in this one, but still exist and Mead’s story is different. You are the Bob Cratchit character and have a son, congrats you are a mother! All quotes in the beginning of chapters are from the original short story by Charles Dickens. Stave - verse or stanza of a poem.

Warning: Impolite term used, but its usage was in character. - This chapter also got a little darker than I was expecting.

Taglist: @betchiwilleatyou, @strawberryshorttcakkee, @ninaahs, @setsuna1415, @golddustdykes, @simphousestuff, @naomi-m3ndez, @cordeliass, @saucy-sapphic, @madamevirgo, @slut-for-sarah, @paulsonsratched, @rwoolfe

stave 1, stave 2, stave 3

Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion!

“What was that? Who are you?” It was her voice, but it didn’t come from her, or a spirit, it came from the version of her on the couch, who was now blinking at her in the darkness.

She can see me? “Uh…” Wilhemina faltered; she had no response. Who was she indeed?

“She’s you,” It was her voice again but this time from someone else, someone she couldn’t see and with more power behind it than she’d ever possessed. "Given some perspective.” The voice continued and then the spirit possessing her voice stepped out of the darkness, long blond beach tresses flowed down the shoulders of her black dress. She stood tall and it wasn’t just her heels, but her status perhaps which radiated off of her. It made Wilhemina feel that even though they were the same height, this spirit was towering over her.

She gulped as she looked up at the spirit, “Why can she see me?” She asked.

The spirit quirked her lip and Wilhemina found her smile unsettling. It was like Wilhemina was a very small mouse and this spirit was a hungry cobra, “I thought it would be fun,” the spirit said.

There was an urge in her to argue, but her fear was stronger, and she resisted, instead she asked, “Who are you?”

“Oh, my my,” Began the spirit, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to introduce myself. I’m Cordelia Goode, the Supreme, though I suppose in this context I’d better just call myself the ghost of Christmas yet to come.”

“Mine I assume, my future?”

The spirit cocked her head to the side, “Yours and hers,” she said and gestured to the stunned woman, still sitting on the couch. “And of course, all those affected by your life, which given the state of it, is a lot more than I would have guessed.”

“Excuse me?” The woman on the couch said, finding her voice only to be defensive.

Wilhemina wanted to shout at the woman, but then she remembered, she’d only be yelling at herself and there wasn’t much point in that.

“Come now, girls take my arms, let me show you the world that might be.” Cordelia said and extended her arms.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” said the Wilhemina on the couch, “I’m calling the police!” But just as she got up to do that, something pushed her back down.

Wilhemina wasn’t certain, but she thought that maybe the spirit did it. She had flicked her wrist right at the moment when the other her fell back down on the couch.

“I’d do what she says.” Wilhemina said, “She’s not human.”

“Of course not, but even when I was, I wasn’t.” The spirit then shrugged and shook her arms again as a second invitation.

Both Wilheminas then walked over (afraid of what would happen if they didn’t) while gripping their canes tightly and they slipped their arms through the spirit’s.

This transition was quite a bit smoother than the rest. Wilhemina might even say, it had a professional quality to it. It was just like slipping into a warm bath, no discomfort whatsoever.

They were in a conference room; it was large and all white. Mutt and Jeff were there, seated on one side of the table, while five other men in all black suits sat on the other.

“And you did it all on your own,” said one of the men in a suit, “That’s impressive.”

“Absolutely," agreed Mutt, “A lot of late nights at the office.”

“Yes sir,” said Jeff.

“Just the two of you!" Said another man, “Incredible.”

“Well, we aren’t modest,” said Jeff, “We agree, we are pretty incredible.”

For a moment Wilhemina didn’t understand why they were there, but when she glanced at her other self, it clicked. The other hers face was as red as her hair and with how her knuckles were turning white over the head of her cane, Wilhemina worried that her other self was going to break it.

“Ho-How dare they!!” The other Wilhemina shouted, “I was their foundation! I MADE THEM!”

The anger of her other self, stunned Wilhemina. Sure, she felt a slight twinge, hearing the boys say they did everything on their own, but she didn’t think it was worth that level of fuss. Wilhemina definitely considered herself to be overeating, which was strange, because this was supposed to be herself if she hadn’t met the spirits. Had that much really changed in such little time?

The spirit turned to Wilhemina while the men behind them began to celebrate by bringing out various bottles of alcohol. “And what is your reaction?” She asked.

“Those idiots never appreciated me.” Wilhemina said.

The spirit nodded, “Sure, but why aren’t you as upset as your counterpart?”

Wilhemina sighed, “I don’t know,” she admitted.

The spirit nodded again though Wilhemina got the feeling she didn’t really accept that answer and that was more evident in the tone of her voice when she said, “Let’s see something else, shall we?”

She didn’t wait for her charges to take her arms, instead she just snapped the fingers on each hand, and they were suddenly in the hall of a hospital, where horrible, fluorescent lights blinked overhead.

There was a lot of shouting and machines beeping in different rooms. Then someone zipped by as though they wore shoes powered by lightning. That someone came to a stop in front of a closed door and started to pound their fists against it.

That’s when Wilhemina realized who it was. You looked as though you hadn’t bathed in weeks, your clothes were all ratty and one of your shoes had a hole in the toe.

“He’s my son! Let me in!” You shouted at the closed door.

“Oh brother, that’s our little assistant, is it? Guess she blew all her money on drugs or booze, she probably deserves to have the kid taken away,” said the other Wilhemina.

Smack.

The back of Wilhemina’s hand hit the left cheek of her double. It was quite surreal to see herself cupping her red cheek, but Wilhemina brushed it off.

“What was that for?” The other Wilhemina asked.

“You shouldn’t speak when you have no idea what you are talking about.” Wilhemina said, simply.

The spirit just watched with a cocked eyebrow and a neutral expression.

Her double widened her eyes and said, “She’s no one, who cares?”

“I do.” Wilhemina said with so much conviction she surprised herself.

There was the hint of a smile on the spirit’s face then, but neither Wilhemina saw it. They were caught up in a war of the self.

Her double stumbled back and blinked at Wilhemina for a moment before asking quite timidly, “Why?”

Wilhemina didn’t know what to say. From behind her other self, she saw that you were now interacting with a woman who had slipped through the other side of the door. Wilhemina hated her immediately. It was the way this woman was regarding you, lifting her neck and peering down at you like you were a tiny insect, and she was debating whether to squish you or just flick you away.

A small still voice reminded her that she’d taken that stance with you herself many times. That was different. But it wasn’t and she knew it. She’d done it for the same reason, to instill fear in you, to intimidate you.

So why did she suddenly want to hurl that woman to the floor? After all, they were the same. They kept you down, kept you small, delighted in holding power over you.

Only you weren’t taking it this time.

“You gave up your rights.” The woman was saying, her voice was sharp and slimy.

You groaned, “Temporarily! You gave him the wrong dose, or forgot to give him his medication at all,”

“How could you possibly know that?” The woman scoffed.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, “Oh my God! Was it on purpose?”

The woman faltered and shook her head, “We just forgot. We were busy.”

You were shaking, “Busy with what?” You kept peering behind her to the little window in the door.

Wilhemina couldn’t see what you were seeing, but from the expression on your face she knew it wasn’t good.

The woman started babbling, seeming far more interested in the bullshit she occupied herself with than your son. You ignored her and lunged for the doorknob, which gave way, (likely because in coming through, Spencer’s foster mother had unlocked it.) You charged in and Wilhemina, her double and the spirit followed.

Just in time to watch him so tiny on that white mattress, shake and rattle before he went suddenly still and limp.

You fell to your knees beside the bed and grasped his hands and fumbled for his pulse. The Doctor and Nurses standing around the bed all shook their heads. You cupped his face and turned it toward you, begged him to come back, to stay with you, your cheeks wet with tears.

Wilhemina stepped closer. She wanted -She didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted to fall to her knees beside you, to snatch him back from the edge of death, to turn back the clock, rewind, change things.

Wilhemina glanced back with blurry eyes, wanting to plead with the spirit but then she saw the indifference on her double’s face and how similar she and the foster mother were standing.

They were the same. There was no one to bargain with, no one else to blame. Yes, the medical industry was rotten, the foster care system had many cracks to fill, and this particular foster parent was vile, but Wilhemina had the chance, many chances in fact to change the situation and did nothing.

It didn’t matter how many people were involved in this chain of events, she could have broken it and she saw that now.

“Is it too late?” She asked.

With a set jaw, the spirit looked at her. Those were her eyes and yet they looked so much brighter, golden more than brown. But she didn’t say anything.

“There has to be a chance, right?” Wilhemina asked, “Otherwise, why bother with any of this?” Her desperation was too much, and the spirit had to look away.

The other Wilhemina winced at seeing her own face contorted in such a way. She was unable to imagine ever feeling the way this Wilhemina did. What would it take? What happened to her? Did this entity do something to her, or was this a natural progression? Was this how weak she really was underneath her carefully crafted facade?

The doctor had finished telling you that there was nothing he could do, they had to take the body away, but you didn’t let them. You flung yourself over the bed and draped yourself over him.

“You can’t take him away, I’m his mother, he needs to be with me!” You shouted, but they pried your hands away. You ran down the hallway after them as they wheeled the bed away.

“This can’t be the future,” Wilhemina said, as she stood watching you disappear into the dark of the hallway, “There has to be some kind of mistake, I mean...” She turned to the spirit, expecting her to say it was all a cruel joke, just a test and not where the path was leading her.

But Cordelia’s face was hard as stone when it turned to her.

The other Wilhemina was still trying to puzzle everything out. She always thought you were attractive, but not to the level where she’d give this much of a shit about what happened in your personal life. After all, she didn’t take your son from you, she wasn’t the welfare queen who couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to those in her charge, she wasn’t the doctor who wasn’t able to save him. None of this was her fault, was it?

She didn’t have time to think about it too hard before they were both ripped out of time and space and hurled to another destination.

And hurled is the accurate term for the way the spirit shoved them both forward. They went flying and landed just outside a small funeral home.

Wilhemina nodded to herself, this seemed about where this was going to go. The other her however was furious as ever.

“What is the meaning of this? Who are you? Where the hell are we?” She demanded, as she rounded on the spirit.

With a flick of Cordelia’s wrist Wilhemina’s double fell silent and Wilhemina was horrified to see it was because she no longer had a mouth.

“Now, I won’t slice your tongue if you’ll be a good girl and hold it until the purpose of this visit is revealed. Then by all means, express yourself my dear.”

Wilhemina’s double nodded solemnly, and her mouth was instantly restored.

In silence, the two Wilheminas followed the spirit into the funeral home, passing through the glass doors as if they were mist.

Wilhemina was not surprised to see a black urn alone on a shelf unclaimed and she was pretty sure she knew who was in it.

But her counterpart was alarmed. She pleaded in almost the same way that Wilhemina did for your son, but for herself.

“Tell me this is a joke.” She demanded of the spirit, “There’s no reason for us to be here, there’s no reason.” and she started pacing.

Wilhemina watched her tiredly. So, she was dead in the future, likely the near future since there was nothing really shocking about the fact that she’d die one day. But she couldn’t find it in herself to care that much about it. Sure, she was a little young to die, but not as young as Spencer and she wasn’t as good as him either.

The other Wilhemina didn’t see it that way. Wilhemina knew her double had to be aware of who was in the urn as well as she did and was just classically in denial, but it certainly was an interesting thing to witness in herself. Especially when they were thrown yet again to another location, this time Wilhemina’s bedroom, though it was stripped bare as if she never lived there at all.

The other her kept saying things like “this can’t be my home. Yes, this is similar but there are tons of houses just like it.” and “Yes this looks like my street, but it’s not my street.” and “Yes there is that dent in the floor that looks like it was made from my cane, but plenty of people own canes.”

Until finally they were brought to the main event itself.

It was outside Kineros, at night, which Wilhemina thought had a sort of depressing poetry to it. They saw another them, walk out of the building, trip over a crack in the sidewalk and hit her head. Her neck cracked on impact and blood drained from the wound.

“That’s not me. That’s not me. That’s not me.” The double repeated, turning away from their head, from their open eyes and that distant, lightless stare.

The spirit glanced at Wilhemina and asked, “Why aren’t you upset?”

Wilhemina shrugged, “Death is inevitable, mine isn’t much of a tragedy, is it?”

Cordelia nodded, “On that we can agree.”

“Not a tragedy? Not a tragedy? How can you say that?” The other hers voice rose in pitch as she became more desperate.

“That’s enough of that.” The spirit said and Wilhemina’s double disintegrated into ash right before her eyes. Pieces of her wafted in the air like snow might have if they were in a colder climate.

Wilhemina stared at the spot where her other self once stood and gulped before she snuck a glance at the spirit, wondering if Cordelia would zap her away next.

“She was merely a tool for my purposes and her existence was unstable anyway. I have one more thing to show you.” Cordelia said.

Wilhemina nodded and instinctively clenched the head of her cane.

The spirit raised both of her arms with her hands palm up and in doing so, summoned a cloud of black smoke to swirl around them.

Once her eyes adjusted to the change, Wilhemina noticed orbs of light in the smoke. When she stepped closer, she saw that each orb held a moving image, almost like snow globes. Though she saw herself in many of them, she didn’t recognize the scenes depicted. These very well could be the other facets of her soul as the first ghost, Lana mentioned, but this version had red hair and carried a cane, she wasn’t wearing purple though.

Instead of asking any questions, Wilhemina simply arched a confused eyebrow in Cordelia’s direction.

“Our soul has been divided many times and often a split occurs, and one personality is spread a little thin. If you’re thinking this is you, you’re right. This is a Wilhemina Venable, in a universe where the world ends prematurely. What do you suspect you would be capable of in a universe like that?” Cordelia asked.

Wilhemina squinted as she tried to figure out what was happening in each orb. All she managed to figure out was that she seemed to be in charge of some kind of underground bunker. A familiar sense of pride started to crawl up the underside of her ribs, but she hurriedly squashed it back down. The spirit said something about what she’d be capable of, and it didn’t sound good whatever it was.

Realizing the spirit expected an answer, she replied, “I don’t know.”

Cordelia flicked the fingers of her right hand toward herself, drawing an orb to them.

This particular orb flashed between Wilhemina injecting poison into an apple, the residents of the outpost eating apples and then Wilhelmina walking through their bodies lying on the floor.

“I-I killed them?” Wilhemina asked, stunned, “Murder? I’m capable of murder?”

She had never thought about the lengths she would go to serve herself. Wilhemina was never the type to imagine possible scenarios, unless they were of immediate possibilities, perhaps she should have. Perhaps she should have drawn a line in the sand, marked where she’d never cross. In failing to do that, had she damned herself? Had she damned her soul?

“Technically, I’d say this qualified as a genocide as this was a large chunk of what remained of the human race.” Cordelia corrected.

Wilhemina’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull, she was speechless.

For an instant she was on the floor of that room, and she saw herself in that black get up looming over her with disgust. In a flash she was back where she was before outside of Kineros with Cordelia in the smoke.

She gasped when she returned to herself, “What was that?”

The spirit hummed, “A change of perspective, isn’t that what this whole night has been about?”

“Yes, yes I see your point.” Wilhemina said.

“Well…” said the spirit, “Just so it sticks…”

And before she could say a word of protest she was back to that floor. She could feel it under her, smooth and cold. But if she was there, wouldn’t she be dead? When she tried to move, the body she inhabited wouldn’t budge, she couldn’t move a muscle, and worst of all she couldn’t close her eyes.

Just like her future self, her head was turned to the side so she could watch herself and the other Mead wade through the bodies surrounding her. She heard the clack of her own cane, could feel it reverberating through the floor, the dull hollow echo of it filling up the space between her ears.

Time seemed to pass so slowly. She heard them talking, herself and the other Miriam, giggling to themselves about how easily they were eliminated, conspiring on their plans to kill another.

She was still laying there when they left, wreathed by the carnage, the blood and bile, the stench and hopelessness.

It felt like hours passed, maybe days, watching the slow decay, their skin turning green then red, of their bodies expanding like slow filling balloons. It felt like weeks, perhaps a month as she watched them turn to liquid and their skin slide over their bones. Perhaps even a year of her eyes open, staring at death, death she could have, would have been responsible for if thrown into such circumstances.

Once their skeletons were all that remained, she had no way of knowing how much time had passed, before darkness crept along the edges of her vision and finally, finally, she was able to close her eyes.

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paulsonsratched · 1 year

Text

Just A Little While 2/3

Billie Dean Howard X Reader

A/n: sorry for the slow updates, it will probably stay like that for a while. I appreciate your big response to this story on tumblr/Wattpad. Here you go, a short, part 2.

Still inspired by The 502s - Just A Little While

•

It’s been two months since you started to work as Billie Dean‘s chauffeur and things could not go better. Never would you have thought that this job is something you could do forever.

You could drive around forever.

You could live on this paycheck forever.

You could be with her, in the car, forever.

Billie Dean never stopped being charming, being funny, which makes it so hard for you to contain yourself from not falling in love with the older woman but lately you even started to fail yourself in thinking you could deny your heart this strong feeling even longer.

God knows whenever she gets in that car and looks up to you from her backseat you feel like your heart bursts into pieces of this bittersweet taste of love. You enjoyed your time with her and that was the thing you genuinely valued. It wasn’t hard to be with Billie Dean, in fact it felt like you have known the medium for a decade and you got the feeling she enjoyed your company just as much. Sometimes she would speak a low „darling,“ followed by „why don’t we take the longer route, I really enjoy the playlist.“ while typing on her phone.

You couldn’t deny her anything, you couldn’t count the times Billie Dean came too late to a set just so the two of you could finish listening to the current playing song in the car.

Every day the car was filled with laughter and her soothing voice until today.

Something about Billie felt weirdly off today. No music, no laughing, no „darling“ and god did you find yourself missing it.

About 30 minutes after you picked her up to drive her home you had enough. „Hey Ms. Hollywood?” you broke the silence. A small “hm?” left the other woman’s lips. “Why so grumpy today?” You said with a little smile on your face, trying to keep the mood as playful as possible. “You know what y/n?” the woman responded, “I do not pay you for speaking, I pay you for driving. We’re not talking.” you were taken aback by her suddenly harsh demeanour “Billie,” you started but got cut off immediately. “I said, we are not talking.” You felt yourself getting angry by her demanding tone. You were done with people treating their employees like they were less. Who did Billie Dean even think she was? She had a hard time finding a chauffeur so you literally saved her ass or she would have drowned in the stress now she’s sitting in the comfort of her backseat which allowed her at least some breaks.

You don’t know where exactly you got your anger nor the confidence from but around the next corner you stopped the car. Since you basically jumped onto the brakes your

Boss got almost thrown out of the front window. „What the hell are you doing?“ she said, her anger clearly visible by her features. „I..“ you started blurting out just as angry as her till you realized…yeah shit what the hell were you doing. You quickly looked to the other side of the street which showed a cinema. „I’m going to the cinema.“ you said confidently, grabbing your purse from the little counter in the middle of the car. And then you left the car making your way across the street to the cinema. „What the fuck am I doing?“ you thought to yourself. You expected the car you left behind to just drive off but instead you heard the mediums heels clicking, following you quickly with a lot of „what the fuck?“ „y/n!!!“ „what are you doing?“ leaving the older woman’s mouth. But you didn’t stop. In fact you already stood at the cashier, choosing the movie and paying. Before you went in you turned to Billie “I’m going to the movies, like I already said earlier so you come in with me or you might as well drive yourself home.” Billie looked at you, mouth slightly agape. When she collected herself again Billie Dean was about o counter with something equal as sassy but was quickly cut off by someone screaming behind her “Oh. My. God!! Billie Dean Howard?” A girl in her 20s squealed at Billie. She rolled her eyes, just visible for me before she turns around. She flashed her biggest smile before taking a picture. In not even 10 seconds a crowd of people gathered around you. You watched her never fading smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. Billie Dean looked tired. You quickly caught up to the events and with a sigh you bought another movie ticket before just taking Billie’s hand and dragging her inside with you.

She just followed your lead, quietly. She didn’t dare to speak. She in fact felt more than embarrassed for snapping at you earlier because how could you know that this wasn’t the first crowd of people the medium managed today but the difference between now and earlier was no one came to her rescue when it got overpowering. Billie loved her fans but sometimes it was just a lot. Today was one of those days.

When you and her stood in line for snacks and drinks she whispered a small “thank you.” you just shook it off because you were still a bit angry. You did not deserve earlier and you both knew it. After a while you turned to her. „You know Billie I love listening to you when you had a troubled day, I’m also more than glad to shut up but this earlier, that wasn’t okay.“ Billie Dean faced the floor. „I know.“ You turned again to study the drink options. Billie sighed. „But hey, at least I got free movie tickets.” She tried to joke. You turned to her, rolling your eyes at her. Billie composed herself, raising her hands in surrender before putting on her sunglasses. You continued looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “What?” she said smiling. “You shine a bright light Ms. Hollywood but this,” you gestured to her shades “is really not necessary in here.”

“Stop calling me that.” Billie replied. “I know you like it.” You grinned at her and she flashed you her white teeth, this time in a genuine smile.

As you turned around again it was almost your turn. You pointed out what you wanted to the cashier and ordered the same for Billie Dean.

“I can’t even choose my own order?” she said as you made your way to the right theater. You looked at her chuckling. “As long as you wear these ugly shades. No.” You kept laughing slightly. “Hey! They’re Prada.” Billie whisper-yelled at you. You grabbed your purse looking around it for some seconds before you pulled out your own shades. “15 bucks, H&M, and so much better.” Billie took off her glasses. „Let me see.“ she said, before placing your shades on the bridge of her nose. You bursted out laughing. After about two minutes the medium stopped you. “What?” she chuckled. You stood in-front of her, getting closer before removing the shades from her face. “You’re genuinely beautiful Billie Dean but your face is not made for shades.” you whispered. Just now you realised how close you’ve gotten. Billie’s eyes met yours before she brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. „ I appreciate the compliment, darling.“ she said while her hand rested on your cheek. Your gaze averted to the ground as you could feel the heat getting into them. You heard the older woman chuckle. „No need to get flustered.” she whispered before tilting up your head by your chin. You were so close you could feel her breath on your face. What if you would just close the gap? What if Billie Dean doesn’t want the same? Would she be mad? You didn’t think so. Billie Dean wasn’t the person to just get mad and fire people. She was too good for that, too mature. You would have to face an uncomfortable conversation afterwards that was for sure. “Fuck it.” you said quietly before getting closer to her. Just a tiny gap separated the two of you when you heard a little splash beneath the two of you. “Shit!” Billie yelled as she looked onto the floor. “I guess I spilled the coke.” She said laughing. You looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. “Well,” she continued. “instead of the tea I spilled the coke.” you continued to look at her in disbelief. “Jesus Billie you got the worst humour ever.” you chuckled. “It worked though.” she said looking at your beaming face.

You broke free from each others gaze when you saw an angry looking move employee walking at you. “We gonna get kicked out.“ you said while looking at the from step to step angrier looking employee.

„No.“ Billie dryly said with a smile before grabbing your hand and just running off. „I haven’t been in the cinema for years and I won’t let a cola destroy that for me.“ she said already a bit out of breath. You couldn’t stop laughing till you turned the corner to theater 8. Billie quickly pushed you inside before dragging you with her behind the cinema door. You both held your breath and stood there, hands touching the other ones till the door of the room closed, the trailer started and you both looked at each other bursting out in laughter.

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