Just finished reading Scary? My God You’re Divine and it was so beautifully written 💕
May I request a Patricia x Female Reader fanfic please???
The reader was kidnapped (obviously) and unfortunately been neglected for a while. Reader’s hair is a tangled, knotted mess and can’t be fixed unfortunately 🙁
The only option/solution is to shave it all off (maybe a buzzcut style) and Patricia does all the shaving (basically helping in a way and keeping reader calm)
Afterwords, she tells reader that she’s still beautiful without hair 🥰
I apologize for bothering you
Hello! I don’t normally write for fem!readers but I will give it a go! For non-fem readers I suppose, just mentally replace the pronouns? I don’t tend to use much bodily description, the reader starts with longer hair in this though, of course- Funny enough, I actually just got a buzzcut haha!
TW: Kidnapping, Situational Depression
**Casey was not taken, only Claire and Marcia; The events of Glass did not happen**
Patricia and the Horde had taken you after the whole ordeal with Claire and Marcia had been swept under the rug- finally able to get back on track with their goals. They had kidnapped another two girls- a bit older this time: 22 and 24.
This time, Patricia had chosen the prey for the Beast- rather than Dennis. You and the other woman were kept in the same cell, and had very different reactions to the situation.
“Why don’t you help me? We can get out of here together!” The first woman, Jenna, you learned her name was- yelled.
You were far more withdrawn, choosing not to move from your cot unless going to the bathroom- and even then it was rare. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” You whispered, and turned your head towards the pillow you’d been given.
Jenna hissed, “of course I don’t know what I’m doing- you think I’ve been in any situation like this before? But I’m not giving up I have a life to live.”
“Good for you.” You murmured. You were getting tired of talking honestly, it was a lot of effort for nothing to happen from it.
“I’m appalled.” You didn’t have to look at her to know she was glaring holes into the back of your head. “You know what? I bet you’re in on it- you’re not any different than that freak out there that brought us here! That kidnapped us if you hadn’t remem-“
You moved the pillow to cover your ears and huddled into the wall corner, still lying in the cot. Her words muffled a bit, but still grated your ears.
Fortunately, she was shut up rather swiftly by the the very person she had been raving about. The door opened swiftly, giving away that your captor was agitated by the noise.
“What is the meaning of all your bickering-“ your kidnapper, Patricia, huffed, “honestly, you two are no better than the last set! No respect for the rest of the house.” Her eyes narrowed on Jenna.
“You, are loud and obnoxious. No doubt you would be skittish and flighty had you any room to roam- you’ve made a terrible mess in here for us to clean.”
That was true, the moment Jenna woke up and realized the situation she had all but ripped apart every inch of the room. Her cot was out of place, fabrics were ripped on the floor, and very small chunks of drywall she had tried to rip out were scattered around. But you didn’t dwell on it too much, Patricia’s eyes shifted towards you.
“And you. Hm.” She looked you up and down, “You are aware you have a shower here, don’t you dear?”
“Oh, of course you do…well, this simply won’t do.” She whispered, half to herself and half towards you. “Come along. I have faith that you won’t run, not like your friend here.”
She walked over to your cot and bent down, putting her hand on your arm. You felt her thumb rub across your shoulder as she beckoned you up. You hadn’t felt the need to shower since you’d been kidnapped- you hadn’t felt the need to do much at all, not that you could anyways. Now though, you had no choice but to follow Patricia as she led you out of the room.
It had been a while since you had felt a loving touch, even if it was just a farce. You found you didn’t mind her leading you somewhere new- though, you didn’t mind much these days.
You didn’t mind the horrible musty scent of the room that never went away, or the uncomfortable shifting of the cots you and the women were sleeping on, or the whole fact that you had been kidnapped. It all seemed a bit of a blur to you- just another thing happening to add to the pile of things gone wrong.
You didn’t mind that your longer hair was matted and tangled- no doubt the reason Patricia was…what- disgusted? Distraught? At your unkempt appearance.
So, you didn’t mind whatever she had in that twisted head of hers that justified their kidnapping- whatever she would do would be just another thing to endure to get back to sleeping in that horrible cot, waiting for the next day- and the next day…
Though, lost in thought as you were- you had reached a new door. She approached the locked room, one hand on her keys- one on your arm- and unlocked it with practiced ease, pushing the door open with a light shove. Then she walked in, taking you with her.
Once inside, she seated you on a chair- by a bed, a real bed- not a cot, and you knew this had to be her room.
“We’ll be sorting this mess out in no time, dear. Though, I have no idea why you are so reluctant to use the shower.” She admonished gently.
She never lost that soft smile- only changed it to look gentle or sharp, dangerous. It was somewhere in-between now.
You couldn’t bring yourself to shower, that was true. But what could you tell her?
You couldn’t shower because you could hardly make your body move half the time.
You couldn’t shower because you needed to keep that false feeling of privacy to yourself.
You couldn’t shower because it would be hopeless trying to fix the mess that had taken root in your scalp.
You couldn’t shower because it would mean facing yourself in the mirror, what you looked like now, after you had stopped taking care of yourself enough.
“Now, I’m going to be completely honest with you. We cannot have you looking this way, in our care.”
In your mind, you rolled your eyes at her phrasing.
“But I’m afraid none of us have the skills nor tools to give you a full cleaning. It would be impossible to unmatt this nest you have.” She continued, sighing. She reached her hand up and caressed the side of your face.
“Be still when I tell you this; I know you will not like it.” A pause. And then,
“We will have to shave it off, dear.”
You heard a record scratch in your mind, and everything halted. She…what? She couldn’t do that! It was your hair, sure it looked…like it did, but it was yours. How dare she take that from you?
“W-what? No. No you can’t do that.” You breathed. Your face contorting into something like despair for the first time since she brought you there. You had been cold, indifferent to the worst of the situation- until now.
“Dear, we have no choice. You cannot continue to look like this. It will feel much better once we get rid of it.” As she talked, she spun about the room grabbing an electric razor from a drawer in a bedside cabinet.
You felt frozen at the sight of it.
“Come, into the bathroom. It will be easier to clean up that way.”
No. No, this couldn’t be happening.
You tried to reason with her, “No- please miss, I can just take a shower.” As if it wasn’t what you had been avoiding this entire time. “I can untangle it myself- I’ve done it before!”
“I wish I could say I believed you, dear one. Please, come sit. It will not take long. Think of it as, hm, a fresh start, perhaps.”
You had begun breathing heavily, tears welling in your eyes. Your hands shook as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Please? Please, don’t.”
Her eyes softened at you looking so tormented. You had endured everything so well, behaved so well- until now. She found she wasn’t completely heartless. She wished herself she could grow her hair out. Make herself more feminine than she could- as most of the alters, and Kevin, were male. It was easier for her to keep her hair shaved in the long run. She understood hair being a part of an identity.
“You will look just as beautiful as you do now, sweet one. It will be a sign of your strength.” She whispered.
You tried to look at her through your tears. You were sure she was lying. That you would look just as ugly on the outside as you always felt on the inside. “I can’t. I can’t.” You panted.
She set down the buzzer and strode towards you. “Darling, you must trust me. Have faith.” She caressed your arms the way she had before- in the room with the cots. “The length of your hair does not change how strong you are, or who you are, or how beautiful you are.”
You are realized by then, you had no choice. She was really going to shave all your hair off. You sniffled, trying to pull yourself together, “F-fine.” You hiccuped.
She led you to the chair she had situated in the bathroom, and started up the buzzer, putting on the guard- choosing level 3. Almost as short as it could be.
“Could- could you not do a little higher? It- I really don’t want all of it gone. Please, miss.”
She glanced down at you, then wordlessly changed the guard to a level 5. At that, you breathed a little easier. Only by a little. But still, that was as good as you were going to get. This whole situation was insane to you.
Then, she started buzzing- and all the feelings came back. Tears fell from your eyes in rivulets. A small sob tore from your throat. You slammed your eyes shut, unwilling to watch in the mirror as your hair fell into clumps on the floor tile.
Her other hand came to rest on your shoulder, squeezing to try and ground you. The angle pulled you back against her torso. You tried to lean into that comfort as much as you could. Insane. This was insane.
She went in rows along your scalp. You felt your head get lighter as the buzzer cut out strand after strand of knotted hair.
In the end, it took about an hour and a half. Patricia kept her hand pressed against you the entire time. Holding you steady against her. Silent strength- she didn’t speak while she cut. Just held you tighter when you cried louder.
You had never opened your eyes.
“Dear one, open your eyes. Look in the mirror.” She instructed, softly.
It took all the strength, and remains of fear, in you to comply. And you looked at the person in the mirror- who hardly looked like you. That couldn’t be you could it? But it had to be, with Patricia standing behind you reflected in it also.
“What a pair we make, hm?” Her eyebrows dipped, trying to offer sympathy.
“You look strong. You look beautiful. Just like I told you, you would.”
Your sobs had diminished, leaving you crying silently, shoulders trembling.
“Hush, dear.” She murmured. “You look perfect.”
She held you until your tears subsided, as you both stared into the mirror. You supposed you would get used to it. And deep down, you knew she would never stop telling you- what you desperately hoped was true. What was true, even if you hadn’t accepted it- that you looked nice no matter the length of your hair. That you were strong. That you were beautiful.
Perhaps you’d start taking care of yourself from now on. Like Patricia had said, a fresh start.
