onetrackbeanbrain

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Patricia & Flirty!Reader HC's

I'm spiraling with this train of thought.

Taking a break from writing the actual fic to type these out...

You try to woo her with gifts and cheesy pickup lines at first. Then you quickly realize it was only annoying her.

In the beginning, she thought you were mocking her. Making fun of the fact that their system had women inhabiting a masculine body.

She didn't think you believed each of them were different people. Nobody had before, anyways.

She confronted you, telling you to cease the incessant behavior. Patricia was a force to be reckoned with, when it came to defending her and her boys. She was fiercely protective.

Once you realized why she was angry at you, you became smitten. It was a crush before, now it was bordering on life-consuming. You spent hours trying to figure out how you could convince her you thought of her as her own person. That you believed them completely. That you only had a crush on her, not any of the others, was telling enough that they were all different.

You never stopped with the gift giving- in fact, you doubled-down, tailoring the gifts to Patricia specifically. A pendant you thought she would like, a miniature figurine of a tiger that you had thrifted because she had mentioned once that she liked the bigger cats, a flowy black skirt with lace trims that you thought she would look stunning in...you don't know where they went once you gave them to her. You never saw them again.

Unbeknownst to you (until later on in the relationship), she had kept them all in her room. The figurine placed carefully on a desk, next to a vanity where the pendant hung from a clip. The skirt sitting perfectly ironed in a closet, with her other clothes.

Over time, her room was filled with gifts, little and not so little, that everywhere she looked she would inevitably see something you gave her. It made her think.

Why did she keep all these things?

She was materialistic, sure, she liked to covet things and keep them if they were nice- and all of your gifts were nice. Chosen specifically for her taste. Not for Dennis. Not for Barry, or Orwell, or Jade, or any of the others. For her.

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I need more ideasssss- how would you break through her walls, after all the hurt they've gone through, how do you get her to trust you...I thought of one way that's in the fic i'm working on! Though it's pretty unintentional- I think it would be hard to get her trust if she knew you were trying to earn it. Then she would probably think there were ulterior motives behind it, or at least have more doubt over it. Hmmmm

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Guys I'm back😼😼😼 CONSIDER hear me with ur ears rn and consider outwardly flirty reader(◕‿◕✿) like respectful ofc ofc but (and forgive me for this) rizzy ya know patricia deserves to be wooed do with that info what you will okay I'm gonna go frolic with a cardboard cutout of patricia BYEEEE

I LOVE WRITING FLIRTY READER 🙏🙏 I will definitely start working on this asap…I’m begging my brain not to get caught on writers block for this. The amount of times I think about the potential of the reader’s character teasing or trying to charm Patricia is an atrocity in of itself-

I love people writing Patricia as the- ahem, more dominant one- because of her personality but when do WE get to take care of her or flatter her or brush her metaphorical hair or cook for her or or or

Pausing my grocery store worker fic to start writing this one right NEOW. 🫵🫵🫵

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Hello there 👋🏻

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 🥰

If not

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**

Standard of Care

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.

A scoff.

“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.

“I-I look a-awful.”

“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.

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Wait is The Horde technically a nuclear family…the crazed pseudo-religious mom, the mentally unwell dad, and the overactive kid

:3

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Im on college break with not much to do and boy have I had a resurgence of interest in this movie & Miss Patricia (not that it really went away) but I might knock out a request or two later…

[onetrackbeanbrain]

I’m volunteering at a zoo today and all I can think of is Dennis (and Patricia) from Split

[onetrackbeanbrain]

I am simultaneously working on my own ideas and on requests! Lmk what yall wanna see next!

[onetrackbeanbrain]

I fear I'm about to absolutely demolish your inbox with the amount of patricia asks im bouta send/lh oka but on a serious note THAAANK YOU FOR SUPPLYYINGG UUUSSS with wonderful Patricia fics she is my heart and soul AND SPECIFICALLY AN ARTIST X PATRICIA FIC DID YOU READ MY MIND?? AND ITS GENDER NEUTRAL? I'm eating drywall/pos right I'll stop yappin now I was wonderin if you could do something valentines themed :0 maybe the reader (or Patricia either is very good>:) ) confessing via a classic 'will you be my valentine?' situation? DONT THINK OF THIS AS A DEADLINE THO cause I know valentines is pretty soon you could churn this out in December and I'd eat it up >:) take your time and do whatevea ya like OKAY BYE I LOVE YOUR STUFFFFF YIPIIE

I’ve actually been so busy holy- but I’m getting to the requests now!! I SWEAR-

Anyways…since you liked the artist idea I figured I’d incorporate it into the Valentine’s Day trope haha- I couldn’t really see either of them confessing directly…so it’s more of a “eventually they’ll realize” but right now they’re just crushing hard and neither realize.

Patricia x Artist!Reader (Gender-Neutral)

Same reader as the one in “Scary? My God You’re Divine”

Ext-Roar-dinary

It’s been about a month since living with Patricia and the other alters. The other girls are dead, and you expect there are going to be more to follow…whenever the beast is released a second time. The Beast situation isn’t something you’re very happy about, but to be honest- there isn’t much you can do about it. You’ve grown to care for them- all of them, but one in particular.

Patricia spoke to you not long after everything happened- it’s all so vivid in your mind.

————— (TW: slight mention of blood, mention of previous character deaths)

“So, you are now aware of our true nature. Beholdened, yet unafraid, you have been deemed pure by the Beast.” She had come to you covered in the blood of the others- the smell had you on the verge of gagging but the sight- you were entranced. Perhaps, in the way only an artist could tell, the scene was beautiful, hauntingly so.

“Why…are you here? As in- not him. The Beast- where did he go?” You responded, breath hitched in anticipation. “Are you all alright?”

Patricia smiled, slightly. “We are perfectly fine dear. And you will be as well- though I must say it is an unexpected turn of events. I had fully thought you would meet the fate of the other girls but as it appears, the Beast is quite merciful. I hope you understand, we cannot let you leave here.” She seemed a bit remorseful at that, you suppose.

Not that you really minded staying with them, it provided you with so much inspiration, constantly- you feared that if you ever left you would be devoid of any passion for art going forward…

“Oh- that. It’s alright, really- I don’t mind. As much as you probably think I do anyway.” You remember your drawings of her- and wonder what ever happened to them anyways, you were very fond of those sketches. It would be a shame if she did end up throwing them away.

——————

3 days before Valentine’s Day

She didn’t throw them away. In fact, everytime you had left a half-finished or abandoned idea around on a paper, she had taken to collecting them. Unbeknownst to you, of course. Unfortunately, the others caught wind of it all too soon.

“Oooh, Miss Patricia has a crushhhh!” Her wig teased from their shared mental space. “The- the others didn’t think- you had it in you but, but I knew you were gonna like them! They drew with me one time remember? They’re so cool!”

She did remember- it warmed her heart that you cared for Hedwig even when the other girls had thought he was strange. She understood, of course, but there was no need to be rude. But you- you showed him your drawings and shared a part of your world with him- with them. Patricia thought back to the drawings of herself sitting on a table in her room.

Still, she couldn’t let her reputation slip too much.

“That’s quite enough, child. They are quite endearing; We are all glad the beast has spared them.” She whispered aloud. Not much use in concealing a conversation when you were far from the room anyways.

“Yeah! They’re endarin’ and-“

“Endearing, Hedwig.”

“Endearing! And cool! And funny- and cool!”

“Quite.”

——

2 Days from Valentine’s Day

You were in fact, not far from the room. You were given free roam- with the exception of leaving, of course- and you were about to ask them what the plan was for lunch. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop but you had heard Patricia mention you and your circumstances and, well, if you stayed behind the door a little longer before you knocked then only you would know.

Your face burned a fair bit at what you heard her say. “Glad the beast spared you” and “Endearing” speared through your heart in a way you hadn’t entirely expected. Hm, but what to do about that…

…what if you gave her something kind back? It was rare to hear her be openingly sweet (even if you weren’t meant to hear it). You already gave her drawings though- and you honestly weren’t sure if she liked them. Hedwig said she did, but at the end of the day, he is a child- you thought fondly.

Baking something maybe? Valentine’s Day was coming up tomorrow- perhaps something for the holiday? It would coverup the eavesdropping as something you just wanted to do to be nice. But what to make?

You ran through a list in your head:

Patricia likes…what does she like? Feeling in control? Feminine clothing…no you didn’t have fabrics- music? No instruments…

Then, you thought back to a conversation you had with her while Marcia was still alive…she likes lions. That’s definitely something- a definitive subject at least. You could definitely bake a lion-head shaped cake…you think. Depends on the ingredients in the pantry to be honest, but you could always try and ask them to get more.

————

Valentine’s Day

You had baked a cake. Turns out, the pantry did had a fair supply of baking ingredients- must be a hobby of one of the other alters. You weren’t confident in the shape being correct so you stuck with a circle, and drew a lion on top in frosting. Frankly, you thought you did pretty good- even if the lettering was a bit…wonky.

It was almost time for Patricia to make breakfast- which is when she’ll see the cake you made. You’ve been in the kitchen since- well, not daybreak since you can’t exactly see when that is, but since around 5AM. (You’re absolutely taking a nap after all this.) Dennis gets them up around 7:30AM to prepare for work and Patricia usually takes over to meet with you before they have to get uniform-dressed and leave. Which is around 9, and it is currently…8:36.

No later than expected, the green door to the kitchen opened up and you lifted the cake in your hands towards Patricia, showing her the design-

“I think you’re Ext-Roar-dinary!”

With a little lion perched under it, licking his paw.

You had your eyes to the side- but she was taking a bit of time to react…

You glanced up and blush rose to your cheeks in record speed- her face was completely flushed. Eyes-widened, her mouth hung slightly open- clearly not expecting this.

“Oh, dear. Is this supposed to be for, what, Valentine’s day? She held a hand up to her mouth, still a bit stunned. You knew it probably would come as a shock to her, but her reaction still made you a bit flustered in turn.

What you didn’t know about was the teasing Patricia was enduring from little Hedwig all over again-

“I told you Miss Patricia! That means they likeeee you! Just like I said- like you like them! Wait- does this mean you’re dating now-“

“Enough, Hedwig-“ Patricia whispered in their mind.

You chuckled- likely knowing what was being said internally between the others. And you set the cake down on the table for both of you to enjoy. Hopefully, the sugar will keep you awake for however long Patricia is in the light…though the giddy feeling in your chest might do the trick just as well. Looks like you won’t be getting that nap after all-

But looking at Patricia’s still red face as she cuts the cake you worked so hard on- for her- you don’t particularly seem to mind.

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Is this just a Patricia fan page, yes, yes it is.

RAAAAAH, I don’t think anyone else has one on Spotify so here yall go- songs I think Patricia would like to listen to + some extras

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Scary? My God You’re Divine (Pt. 2)

TW: Kidnapping, implied sexual themes

Gender-neutral

Patricia x artist!reader

————————————

It had been a day since Patricia took that drawing from you. You’ve been given food by Dennis, and visited once by Hedwig (before he said he wasn’t supposed to be there and rushed out), but nothing from Patricia.

You still remember, mostly, how she looks. You could get a good sketch down even now. If only you had any tools. Honestly, you thought of etching something into the wall, but…you’re not that far gone yet. That- and you didn’t want to piss off Dennis.

‘It should be around dinner-time now. I wonder when I’ll get food..’

Surely, some time passed, and then,

Creeak.

The door opened. A tray of food was left by the door, on the ground. ‘That’s…odd? Maybe Dennis is too busy with the others- and to leave the door open?’

You inched towards the food tray, and notice a note and some other items strewn about it- in addition to the food, of course.

‘The drawin waz realy good. I onlee saw it for a sekond. I wanna draw with u some tim! - Hedwig’

Once you pulled the tray through the door and read the note, it was pulled shut. Next to the note were two pieces of paper and a small shaved down pencil. It didn’t have an eraser with how worn down it was. But the artist in you rejoiced at finally, finally, being able to draw the person at the center of your inspirations. And draw you did-

you sketched a 3/4 angle of Patricia with her eyes closed (because eyes are hard and you don’t have her in front of you to perfect the details), one of her full outfit- the grey turtleneck, skirt, shawl, necklace, and heels (though you would draw the red one later), one of her to the side- making a sandwich- a memory of that day she saw the first drawing, and for the fun of it, you also drew one of Hedwig in a more cartoonish art style in a little superhero pose.

So much time passed as you drew, the only sound (now that the other girls were gone) was your pencil scratching the paper you were given. You took bites of your food while drawing, loosing track of the hours, and eventually, the door gave its telltale cream of opening once more.

By now, you had filled about a page and a half of sketches with them- mostly of Patricia. Some meant to be stills from real life, some meant to capture her aura- or of her with things she expressed interest in: large felines, flowers, or prayer, being the main ones (though that last one was a bit loose. Those drawings seemed more like depicting her as a divine figure, not holy perse but something close.)

And they were all on the floor for Patricia to see when she walked in. She was in a different outfit this time- you would be sure to record it in a sketch later- it was a deep green shawl, like the orange before, and a sage green turtleneck with her black skirt.

“Oh, dear, I am flattered really. I figured this might happen…I step away for one day and Dennis lets Hedwig do whatever he wishes.” She sighs, shaking her head. Though, despite the words, she seems- almost distraught, concerned maybe.

“I have to confess, I don’t particularly understand your fascination with drawing us. Or, me, in particular.” She says, glancing down at the drawings that littered the papers, clasping her hands together in front of her.

It was rather obvious they were meant to be her, the outfits were giveaways- being the only woman you’ve seen in Kevin’s system. She just didn’t understand why. They weren’t all of her of course, she almost smiled at the one miniature drawing of Hedwig once she spotted it. But there were enough for her to be cautious.

“I do hope this is not reminiscent of, Dennis’ nature, let’s say. I would be very upset to find something like that among the drawings, dear.” Patricia nearly spat out.

You would have choked on your food had you not finished eating earlier. “What? I wouldn’t- I would never do that!”

“Of course, you wouldn’t find it fitting to get back at your kidnappers in the only way you have control over in this place, right?” She supplied, with a vicious sarcasm, a furrowed brow and tight smile.

“No. I wouldn’t.” This was the most confident you’d been since you’ve been here, “and I would ask you not insult me as an artist, that I would even think to do that to a person without their consent.” You dragged out, anger and fear mixing together now, causing your sentence to fade slightly at the end.

“Mm, then you won’t mind me taking these. Will you, dear?” Patricia asked, bending down to grab them.

You slid the drawings away from her slightly,

“I-I worked hard on these. Please, you won’t throw them away, right miss?”

“It doesn’t matter what I do with them, you never should have had this paper in the first place.” She grabbed the edge of one of the papers.

“Patricia, please.” You begged. You were proud of these sketches. And, she was right, it’s all you have here. So maybe you’re a bit protective over them.

You locked gazes for the first time since you’ve saw her in the kitchen. And she replied, “…I won’t throw them away, dear.”

Only then did you let the paper go. And you reluctantly handed her the other sketch paper as well. She reached for it, and your hands brushed- not unlike you brushing your hand along her shoulder that past day. But now, she jerked her hand away like she was stung.

Holding the papers close to her chest, Patricia gave you one last glance, and walked out of the room- closing the door.

…She left the food tray on the floor with you- so you’ll be seeing them again soon when they retrieve it. Maybe you can ask one of the others what she did with the drawings? Or maybe she’ll come for the tray? ‘Wishful thinking…’

————————

Patricia POV:

She walked away from the door at a quickened pace, clutching the papers with fully detailed sketches on it- sketches of- of her. There was some sort of feeling she couldn’t shake.

Only when she reached her bed and placed the sketches on her nightstand, next to a post it note, did she realize something she had forgotten,

She sighed, thinking about the encounter, ‘I left the food tray in that room didn’t I?’

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Scary? My God You’re Divine (Pt. 1)

(But also scary, yes)

TW: mentioned kidnapping, mentioned Dennis (his uh, desires or whatever)

Gender-neutral

Patricia x artist!reader

Reader is imagined to be 20-27: taking the place of Casey, was kidnapped in the same car as Marcia and Claire

————————————

“I understand this must all seem so unsatisfactory for you, but we are doing the best we can.” Patricia explained, leading you to the kitchen.

“…and I- appreciate the effort.” You stumbled out, following her. Her wrist was around your own, and it was all you could focus on besides the lingering fear of being kidnapped.

There had to be something wrong with you, deep down.

“Hm, well, it is nice to see that at least one of you is grateful, despite the obvious circumstances.” She hummed, glancing back at you and Marcia.

Your shoulders tensed a bit, as you blushed lightly. Maybe whatever was wrong was closer to the surface than you initially thought. You were an artist at your core, and Patricia- she would be a perfect muse. She was stunning, in a dark way.

You felt Marcia trembling behind you.

The three of you made it to the kitchen, where Patricia began to make an additional meal. Playing music through the radio, she began telling facts about animals- the great felines, tigers, lions, carcass feeding. Marcia and you both felt a chill down your spine at the last one, albeit for different reasons.

SLAM!

“It’s crooked.” Patricia sighed, “I- forgive me, I’ll have to make a new one.” Her back turned to you both, her shawl highlighting her subtle muscle movements along her back. It reminded you of the tigers she was waxing poetic about earlier.

Then, you saw Marcia gesture to the door, and back at you. Another escape attempt? After what happened with Claire? You think you’ll pass…the strength Dennis had shown, with his inclinations, you’d rather not be on their bad side. Though, Marcia didn’t seem to get that message.

Standing up, Marcia grabbed the chair and turned towards Patricia. It was a useless attempt, and if she was going to try it alone anyways…if you both were splitting ways-

“Patricia!”

She whirled around, knife in hand and eyes widened slightly, just as Marcia brought the chair down. “Gh!” Her arm caught most of the force, but twisted slightly downwards regardless from the impact. You stepped forward, out of your chair and towards the enraged woman, reaching out to help her.

She stands the same time you reach closer, and you only lightly brush her shoulder. Her eyes flick quickly towards yours, face tightened in anger- and something unreadable. Then, it was gone.

“Thank you for the warning darling. Please, stay here. Do not touch anything.”

She rushes out of the room, hurrying after the raven-haired girl. And you’re left to your own devices.

…She told you not to touch anything.

So you shouldn’t touch anything.

But it couldn’t hurt to find a pencil and paper, would it? Practically harmless, you doubt you would get punished too severely for it. You could always return it if they asked. Obviously, trying to reach electronics of any sort would put you in a bad light- but simple drawing supplies? You had been itching to make a basic sketch of some of the alters since you woke up here.

You ignored the distant clamoring in the next room. Opening some drawers in the kitchen, you surprisingly find a pen and some loose post-it notes. There are some with old grocery lists written down but a few blank ones as well. ‘Good enough for now’.

You just needed to get a sketch down of Patricia. God, she was just- beautiful. In an unorthodox way perhaps, since many were sure to see her as a blight on humankind (bigotry and all that), but she was stunning. You’ve wanted to draw her every time she’s greeted you and the others.

By the time Patricia got back, ‘without Marcia’ you noted, you had gotten the lower half of her face, a slight smile and jawline, and her turtleneck and shawl down to her golden locket. You had to choose where to cut off since the sticky note was so small. You were just adding shading when she strode over and took the two out of your hands. She was furious.

“I believe I was quite clear about not touching anything, dear. What could you even be doing with a pen and- …oh.”

You were wide-eyed now, holding your breath. You knew she would be upset at seeing her orders disobeyed but…it was up to what she thought of the drawing.

“Is this, supposed to be me?” Patricia’s eyes flicked to the drawing, and back to you. She brought the hand not holding the pen and drawing up to her locket, clearly- something. Surprised? Confused?

“I, I’ve wanted to draw you since I got here. I couldn’t help it.”

Her gaze locked onto yours, unspeaking, drawing up to her full height. Her eyes narrowed, still suspicious.

“I’m sorry, I went against your order. I was going to return-“ You stammered.

“I suppose it is understandable, dear. Do not think too much on it.” Patricia whispered. It was clear she was still a bit confused, but she wouldn’t ask questions. She was the one in charge, no weakness would show here, not even if this strange person seemed to take a- what, a fascination? With them? Or just with her? She would figure it out later.

“Just go back to your room, do it now.”

“Can I have the pen and some-“

“No.”

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Opening a writing blog for “x readers” (platonic or romantic)

Characters I Will Write For:

Patricia (Split)

Hedwig (Split) (only platonic, duh)

Dennis (Split)

Lore (Star Trek)

Other characters may be added as I think of them

I prefer to write Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Headcannons