Leatherface is my babygirl no one loves him like I do. And I mean my dearest Bubba Sawyer!!!! Get the fuck away from me with this thomas hewitt fucker.
To know the worth of every life but your own can feel suffocating. After Y/N attempts to take her own life, she suddenly finds herself surrounded by other people just like her, tasked with keeping them compliant & happy by an eldritch being that acts more like a father than a monster. Does she listen & act as a therapist for these troubled souls? Or does she run off, and have fate bury its hands into her no-longer beating heart?
[Pt1] [Pt2] [Pt3] [Pt4]
(A/N)might just be the last chapter from me for a while😬
If you had the ability to speak as of now, you'd still be at a loss of words. Infront of you lay a mansion, tall, dark, old and intimidating. You're not sure how you got here, last you remember is agreeing to the deal from the strange entity and the static coming back, although in a much more calm & peaceful manner than before. The mansion had two stories and seem to go on for ages. Cobwebs and dust littered the windows, to the point you could hardly see inside them. There was a small, yet sad arrangement of flowers in a garden to the side of the house.
You seemed to be in the middle of a forest, the house was practically surrounded by trees & various greenery. The woods didn't seem too dissimilar to the one at home, where you died. Although, you must admit, you felt much more unsettled and watched than at home.
"My dear I must apologize" You had to crane your neck upwards to look at the tall man. "I have not yet properly introduced myself. I have gone by many names through the years, however many choose to call me Slenderman." How original, you thought. For a moment, the conventional name reminded you of the monster from Silent Hill, Pyramid Head, the creature that has a pyramid on its head. You chuckled at the thought.
"As you can guess, this is my home." A loud crash could be heard from the inside of the mansion. "...Alongside my followers." Taking another good look at the residence, you began to doubt yourself. Were you just a part of some cult now? Was this just some sort of crack house?
"Child, I can hear your worrying from here." I don't think I'm ever gonna get used to this whole mind reading thing. "Yes, it can be quite unsettling for the newer proxies. But, I assure you, you are doing good by helping these people. The state I've found most of them in are...undesirable, to say the least."
"While in my care, you will have access to food, a place to sleep and any other necessities to living. Although, I doubt you will need those." It took you an embarrassingly long moment to understand what he was referring to. "Come, I will have someone guide you to your room. Afterwards you may tour the mansion as long as you like, but I'd assume you need rest. Being resurrected can be exhausting for most."
Stepping closer to the mansion, you watch as a man steps through the doors. Upon further inspection, it's obvious that he's much older than you. Pale skin, tall & bulky frame, short brown hair, and holy shit those sideburns are epic-
"You new?" Southern. That was indeed a southern accent. A conversation was being held by Slenderman & this dude, but you opted to block it out in place of imagining him wearing the stereotypical cowboy outfit. What can you say? It was funny.
"Follow me" Breaking out of your trance, you scurry up the porch steps to catch up. "Name's Tim." You try your best at a response with your name, but it's practically a whisper. You're left to assume that Tim heard you, as he made a slight grunt noise before opening the doors.
The first thing you noticed when you stepped inside was the overall musky scent the house had. You could literally see the dust in the air. If you had to take a guess, this place probably hadn't been cleaned since you were born. There was a big staircase in the center of the room, with hallways leading off in various directions. Unfortunately, the entrance seemed to lead not only to the staircase, but to the living room as well. There was a worn down couch, and a shockingly modern tv.
The moment you stepped through the door, any previous chatter had come to a halt. You didn't want to look, but out of the corner of your eye you could see about four people in the living room. Two were sprawled out on the couch, one in a loveseat, and the last sitting on the floor against the table. You really tried not to think about how these people had their attention on you, that you'd just interrupted their conversation, but the longer they stayed silent, the further the stairs seemed to get.
Tim hadn't paid them any mind, continuing onwards towards the staircase. All you could do was follow with your head bowed.Every other step creaked under your weight. You didn't hold on to the rail, with how old this place is, you wouldn't be surprised if it gave you a splinter. At the top of the staircase, you & Tim headed left, rows of doors aligned the wall. Most of the doors had some sort of signage, typically just 'no girls' or 'no boys' . It was odd. A bunch of, what you assumed to be, cultists decorating their rooms in a childlike manner. Were any of them your age? Did they go to school? What are their favorite subjects?
You looked over the railing as you walked, your trail of questions never ending. You looked back to the group you'd seen before, accidentally making eye contact with one of the boys sitting on the couch. It was startling, to say the least. The others had already gone back to whatever conversation that was being held before, yet he was still staring straight at you. You made note of the pale skin, messy brown hair & baggy clothing before looking away in embarrassment. Even as you kept your head towards the floor, you could feel his gaze digging holes through the back of your skull.
You almost kept walking after Tim had stopped in front of a door. First impression and you're already making a fool of yourself. "This one's yours." He said.He said. The exterior seemed clean, no scratches or stains. The door was a dark-almost black-brown, not that far away from the staircase.
Your attempt at a "Thank you" was practically just an exhale, so in place, you put your very limited knowledge in ASL to use. Four fingers on your chin, then down & outwards, mouthing the words that eluded you. Tim seemed to take this as an adequate response and made a slight huffing sound.
"I'll be 'round the house today. Need anythin' just come lookin' for me." And with that, he left you be. At most, you had expected maybe a shoddy motel-like room, infested with maggots and every disease imaginable. So, your jaw practically dropped when you took a look around your new room. The walls were painted (f/c), with some posters & memorabilia from your old room. Before, when you said that Slenderman was stalking you, you'd meant it as a joke, but you weren't so sure he was joking anymore.
How the hell were you supposed to react to this? Happy that you still had your old stuff? Horrified that you were being targeted by some eldritch being for God knows how long? You were practically spinning in a circle trying to take it all in. The nail in the coffin however, was the cat bowl sitting adjacent to the door. Holy shit.
You practically tore your room apart looking for Bear. While incredibly similar, this was not your old room. You weren't sure if his regular hiding spots would have changed in this new environment. In the closet? Behind the mirror? Any box laying about? Just as you reached to pull the covers back on your bed, an all too familiar chirping sound accompanied Bear as he crawled out from underneath your bed. He rubbed against your leg as if nothing had happened, as if you never left him.
Two seconds. You were approximately two seconds away from bawling. Lifting him up, you carried the two of you onto the bed & under the covers. Immediately, he made himself at home beside your torso, occasionally kneading your stomach. Your baby was safe. He was okay. He was with you and he forgave you and still loved you. Breathless, hiccupping sobs left you. How could you have ever thought to leave him?
The night was spent with dry & aching eyes, a sore throat, and Bears purrs silencing your mind. Neither of you could speak, but you know, if Bear could say anything, it'd be I love you. You matter to me. It's okay. We're okay. And for a moment, just for the night, you let yourself believe it. Everything was okay.
To know the worth of every life but your own can feel suffocating. After Y/N attempts to take her own life, she suddenly finds herself surrounded by other people just like her, tasked with keeping them compliant & happy by an eldritch being that acts more like a father than a monster. Does she listen & act as a therapist for these troubled souls? Or does she run off, and have fate bury its hands into her no-longer beating heart?
[Pt1] [Pt2] [Pt3]
(A/N)My mind was kinda all over the place when writing this😗 but I did write this after receiving the lovely lovely tips you lot shared with me! Hope ya'll don't cringe too hard & remember to stay kind to yourselves🫶🫶
TW: suicide, suicidal ideation & thoughts
Suicide Hotline- 988
The days went by slowly, the clock ticking through every minute of your slow & sluggish classes. Eventually, everything began to blur together as if the weeks were made of watercolor. Your feelings blended together like they had been dumped on a canvas & left to dry. The anticipation & eagerness masking the underlying dread & guilt you had begun to feel. Everything will be alright, you keep telling yourself, this is for the best, it's what I want. While true, you began to worry. Were you being too selfish? What if there was an afterlife, and this was all for naught.
Your routine had yet to be broken, despite the calendar telling you that today was special. Friday, the 27th of February, circled in red. This was it. Perhaps you were too eager, perhaps you weren't eager enough, you didn't really take the time to consider. The tree line had been taunting you for the past few weeks. It knows what you plan, and yet, the forest can't decide if it supports you or not. Either way, your daydreams of walking in & never coming out became incessant.
Getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, picking out your outfit. Everything was mundane. Not that was something to complain about, though. To be comfortable enough to experience routine was a blessing in your eyes. However, the blessing didn't stop you from wishing there was something worth looking forward to everyday. Yes, there was Bear, but other than him the only thing there really was, was sleep.
You were in a daze. Spacing out & overall not paying attention to your surroundings started to become a big issue. But really, how could you help it? The decision to stop going to school altogether was becoming more enticing. Alas, it would feel infinitely more worth it if you held out for the last week or so, you realized.
The steady rhythm of your steps almost felt deafening. It was around 2 am, well past the time any person should be up, and walking in the forest, no less. Leaving the safety of your house felt nearly impossible, were you really going to do this? What about--well, I just mean, what if--was this actually happening? Your eyes stung a bit when you had to push Bear off of you. The dryness in your throat was practically suffocating when you reached for your doorknob, yet, those invisible hands weren't at your throat.
It was quiet, rightfully so. The moonlight was rather unhelpful through the tree tops. What you could make out through the lack of light was exactly as you expected: a pebble here, a stick there, a few twigs, what was the big difference between a twig & a stick? There's another rock, though. A few holes in the ground in which you deducted as being a rabbit or squirrel's home.
There was no rain, no sounds at all, really. Even as you climbed up the slight hill & sat against the trunk of a lone tree, you were the only disturbance. In one hand, an orange container with various pills prescribed to you had been tossed in. Muscle relaxers, sleeping aids, pain medication, Xanax. In the other hand, a bottle of vodka left behind from your parents. It's not like you had planned to drink, but it would help mess with the medication.
So, you drank and you laughed. You drank and you cried. Every swig & you were making less and less sense. Laughing at a joke told years ago, the swaying grass giggled with you. Sobbing over something long forgotten to the world, the trees wept alongside you. Minutes & hours spent with your own mind & your own body with nobody but nature to understand that.
With only a few more sips left, the pills slip into your hands and down your throat. The hour was unknown, but it was your time.
The world around you swayed. If you closed your eyes, you could've sworn that you were in the ocean being carried away by the tide. Slowly, your senses became lost to you. It wasn't a big bang, you didn't have the 7 minutes with your favorite memories, truthfully, you didn't even realize it was happening. A long, melancholic sleep guiding you under the ground & away from life.
Loud, constant & deafening buzzing shook you awake. For a second you believed you were swimming & your ears were flooded with water that had made its way up to your brain. For once, you couldn’t think. You’d forgotten how. All you could process was the buzzing. Who were you? What had happened? What was going to happen? At this moment, none of that was important.
Your eyes ached from inside your head. Had you been crying? No, no it was from this damn migraine. Maybe the pills hadn't worked and you really just fell asleep. Maybe you were in the afterlife. Either way, you sure as hell were awake now.
Slowly, you gained the courage-and the consciousness- to open your eyes. You were greeted with . . . nothing? All you could see was a blank white space, a sort of void for the in-between, you assumed. Had you gone blind? Reaching a hand out you note that your vision had not been affected, but you were in fact translucent. Almost as if you were made out of smoke.
What was this? Some kind of joke? You had not prepared for the afterlife to be an actual thing. Were you a ghost? Holy shit ghosts are real-or are you a spirit? Perhaps the embodiment of a soul. Now this just raises the question if the afterlife is supernatural or some sort of divine thing with the universe. This couldn't be Heaven, could it? There is a definite bright light, but no pearly gates- or stairs, for that matter.
Before you could continue your spiral of thought, you notice a figure off to your side. Tall. This thing was insanely tall. And it wore. . . a tuxedo? There's no way you're standing face to face with God. Why is God wearing a suit? And, come to think of it, why does his face just not exist. In any another situation, the pale, featureless face attached to an absolute giant of a man would have immensely freaked you out, but you had bigger problems right now.
Why was God in front of you & why did the buzzing go away the second you--
"Contrary to popular belief, I am not, in fact, a God. Although, many choose to worship me as one."
What.
Apparently, God could read minds.
"Again, not a god, more of an eldritch being, if you will,"
What What What What What What What What What What What-
"Please, allow me to explain, child."
Even if you could speak right now, words would be lost on you. You weren't sure if the monster of a being knew about your struggle with words, or if he simply took your silence as a que to begin his explanation.
"Before I begin, I would like to state that you are already dead. I have simply just. . . resurrected you for the time being." Off to a great start here. "You have stood out to me for a while, y/n, you interest me." Oh well that's just lovely. "You are a good friend, no? You understand the struggle of emotions and care for others?"
And immediately your attention has been caught. Have you been getting stalked by a monster or something? How on earth does this thing know about you? To be fair, if he can resurrect you, you don't even wanna know what else he's capable of.
"I suppose we both already know the answer to that. Y/n, I will be honest, I need help. Yours, specifically." Oh my God this isn't real. Somebody pinch me. "I have many followers, proxies, they call themselves." So I'm not dead & am just hallucinating, got it. "All very troubled. To the point that they cannot & refuse to do what I ask of them." Why's that kinda funny-
"Y/N." Sorry. "I would like to make a deal with you. I have seen the care you give to others, child, I feel it could benefit the productivity & willingness of my proxies. Work for me. Listen to the woes of my followers and give them a system of support." So, like a therapist, then? "Precisely." What do I get out of this? "You help those in need, is that not enough? These people need a safe environment and you are the only one able to supply that for them."
Oh god. This had to be a genuine nightmare. Yeah, it sucked that these people needed help, but so did you for Christ sake! You literally just killed yourself because you were tired of being a therapist!
"You'll have the ability to die again, once you finish your duties. I am aware of your troubles, I just ask for a bit of kindness from you. Y/n, if you hold on for a few more months, not only will you get your wish, but you'll have helped so many people. Don't you want that? To help others?"
Damn this eldritch being and damn it's manipulation tactics for working. The guilt was starting to get to you. You'd already used up your one chance for being selfish. . . Ahh frick, what's another couple of months?
"So you accept?" Taking as deep of a breath as you can manage, you open your mouth. The hands aren't here, they cannot decide your fate right now. "Yes."
To know the worth of every life but your own can feel suffocating. After Y/N attempts to take her own life, she suddenly finds herself surrounded by other people just like her, tasked with keeping them compliant & happy by an eldritch being that acts more like a father than a monster. Does she listen & act as a therapist for these troubled souls? Or does she run off, and have fate bury its hands into her no-longer beating heart?
(A/N) hiyaa I was rushing like crazy when I wrote these first few chapters, but my drafts are already looking much better I think!
TW: suicidal thoughts & ideation
[Pt1] [Pt2] [Pt3]
Walking has become one of your favorite pass times as of late. You can just turn your body on autopilot & ramble to yourself as much as you like. For the past couple of weeks, you've been walking a trail in the woods. Far enough from home for people to not see you, close enough for you to run back in case of trouble.
So far, you haven't deviated from the path. You may be clumsy, but you're not stupid, you know better than to risk getting lost just to look at the patch of moss off track. You're not familiar with the woods, nor anything in it. However, that doesn't mean you won't try to pet the squirrel that's been chatting to you for the past 15 minutes.
You reach your arm out slowly, in hopes of the squirrel, who you've already named Bucky, coming down and deeming you as trustworthy for scratches. The once chatty squirrel slowly, yet surely, makes its way down the tree towards your extended hand. No matter what sort of rabies or diseases you could possibly contract from befriending Bucky, you ultimately decide that it would be entirely worth it. Bucky, who still has yet to figure out that you're not going to eat him, has begun sniffing your hands. For someone who is mute half of the time, you're certainly struggling not to yell in response to your excitement. If standing here, waiting for animals to trust you like you're some kind of Disney princess takes all day, you best believe you'll be standing here all day.
The snap of a twig startles not just you, but the squirrel you had spend the better half of 10 minutes trying to befriend. Turning your head to see the cause of the noise, a deer stood, staring right back at you. Or perhaps an elk, you never bothered to learn the difference. You stood still, not daring to startle the stoic animal. While not much of a competition, you both stared at each other for longer than you'd like to admit. Whilst returning the gaze of the deer, you failed to notice Bucky coming down to stare with you.
You felt like you had been put on a spotlight, like time was slowing down to let you think before one of the animals ran off. You saw your reflection in the deer's dark, glossy eyes. It made you wonder what living as an animal must be like. Being on your own, without worrying about your own thoughts or appealing to others. Sure there'd be the occasional black sheep or ugly duckling, but animals don't judge. You might get eaten, sure, but you know it's not personal, it's just everyone trying to survive in their own way. Animals surely don't have to worry about social pressures or have to wonder why they exist. They just live. That must be nice, you thought.
The sound of your phone going off had brought you back to reality. You weren't going to check it at first, but both Bucky & the deer were already making their ways home. Begrudgingly, you took your phone out of your pocket to see what had happened.
It was a text from Parker. You'd known Parker most of your life. They were kind, at first, not to say that they were mean to you now. Its just that, now, it seems you're only friends with each other when it's convenient. You deeply care for your friends, so obviously you give them a shoulder to cry on & reassuring words. However, there seems to be a pattern. After a while, you start hearing from them less, until they don't even acknowledge you in school, but later when they have a problem, you're the first person they think to come to.
It's flattering to know that people see you as a source of comfort & stability, but it gets so tiring after a while. You don't mind helping others, it's what you're best at, but for people to see you as nothing but a therapist, it hurts.
You felt bad, horrible, even. The want to let them vent to you was steadily increasing, they said they need you, it would be cruel to not be there for them. The same words filtered through your head as you slowly turned off your phone and put it back in your pocket. Evil, cruel, heartless. You know they need you, yet you're being selfish.
Despite your self deprecation & your guilt, you couldn't handle this scenario again. Your feelings matter too...you think. Parker has lots of friends, people that can support them. It will be okay to put yourself first, for once. It's not like you can't talk when you get home, either.
Your cheek felt wet. Were you crying? Reaching a hand up to inspect your face, you came to the conclusion that your face was in fact wet, but you hadn't felt like you were crying. Feeling a sudden pressure on your head prompted you to look up towards the sky. A water droplet landed right on your forehead, helping you conclude that it had started raining.
You didn't want to leave, you enjoyed being outside, but you knew it wasn't smart to stay out while it was raining. Slowly, you began moving your feet back towards the trail, and back home. Along the way, you listened to your surroundings, the shuffling of leaves, a distant car, the rain slowly getting heavier & heavier.
For a moment, you didn't have to exist outside of this forest. You could just be. The patter of rain, like natures own metronome, sounded softly as you slowly went on autopilot.
one two three four....
one two three four...
one... two... three... four...
...
Your brain wandered from topic to topic, trivial things that served no relevance, until, eventually, it came back to Parker. Would they stop being your friend after this? Was the few minutes of silence really worth it? You didn't know. It was nice, though. It felt like sleeping, being able to just live with nothing bothering you. You'd like that, to sleep forever.
That's a topic you're familiar with, suicide, it's something you've been thinking about for years. It wouldn't really be that bad, dying is a natural & beautiful part of life, you'd just never wanted it quite as much as you had now. Would anybody notice? Hopefully not, or at least, hopefully they wouldn't mind too much. If you ended your life, it should be celebrated that you had life to begin with. Yes, yes that's true. It would be a good thing for you.
You had a newfound sense of hope in your walk home. This is exactly what you need, it will fix all your problems & grant you eternal peace! Sure, you'd miss Bear, quite a lot, actually. But you could finally have what you've wanted. He's a good & healthy cat, you're sure he'd get rehomed quickly. You've almost no friends, other than Parker & Tiff, but could you really even call them friends? Even your parents have been out of the picture for a while. You've been living on your own since the state thought you were old enough.
Your hair was soaking & sticking to your face, but you couldn't find it in yourself to be annoyed. This was it! This was going to your life. You'd say it was worth living, but to feel this hope & accomplishment from knowing it's going to end has been worth it in itself.
Unlocking your front door, you step inside sopping wet & giggling. You're smiling as if you've just won the lottery. Your clothes feel like they've been suction cupped to your body, creating that suffocating & uncomfortable feeling. You practically have to wrestle yourself out of your clothes while you struggle to get the shower at the perfect temperature. Bear parades around you, demanding attention despite the warm shower that's practically calling your name.
Getting ready for bed had never felt so refreshing. Doing your hair & skin care with your favorite songs softly humming from your phone, Bear staying planted right next to you throughout the entire night, and you even had some of your favorite leftovers in the fridge.
To know the worth of every life but your own can feel suffocating. After Y/N attempts to take her own life, she suddenly finds herself surrounded by other people just like her, tasked with keeping them compliant & happy by an eldritch being that acts more like a father than a monster. Does she listen & act as a therapist for these troubled souls? Or does she run off, and have fate bury its hands into her no-longer beating heart?
[Pt1] [Pt2] [Pt3]
(A/N)This is my first time writing EVERR pls be kind & note that I'm a noob at writing 😋🫶 also check out my ao3 if you like 😛
You always knew that there was something off, you were just never able to pinpoint what it was. If you had to guess, it could've been the fact that you hadn't seen that one fat cat on your walks to school recently. Or maybe how when you stare into the tree line of the forest for too long, it always felt like something was staring back. That last one was probably just your paranoia, though.
But, to be fair, no matter what the answer was, everybody seemed to know, except for you.
It's not like people went out of their way to be cruel to you, they were just never as kind to you as you were to them. It's like, if your life was a school play, everybody is having fun & dancing, and so are you, but you're the only one who was casted as a tree.
As your alarm to get up rang, you felt like strange, like you'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Mainly because you had, your feet were literally at your pillows. But also because you still felt so tired. That's something you'd noticed recently, you've been going to bed earlier & earlier yet you're still so tired all the time. Maybe school is just stressing you out.
With a grunt, you crawl out of bed & pad across your room to get ready for the day. After feeding your cat, Bear, his breakfast, you head out the door with your bag & pray that you remembered everything. You always sorta preferred morning walks. Not that you enjoy waking up early, at all. Like seriously, why any person would choose to wake up before 10 am baffles you, but you enjoy the quiet, foggy mornings such as today.
With about 20 minutes until class starts, you take your time walking along the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for that fat cat that's gone missing from your routine. His name's Dennis, you think. You've heard of a neighborhood cat named Dennis, you just haven't confirmed it's the same cat. You do know, however, that you miss that fat cat, who you're just gonna assume is Dennis. Maybe after school you can ask your neighbors about it, you're sure they wouldn't mind, they seem to like you and... what were you doing again?
Damn your brain & your incessant train of thought. While you were rambling to yourself, you had nearly stopped walking just to think. Picking up the pace, you continue on to your first class, making sure to not to get stuck on another tangent with yourself.
Plopping down into your seat, you've already begun to block out what your teacher was saying. You know it's rude, she's only trying to do her job & teach uninterested teens in a subject that will most likely be useful in their future, but your mind always wanders to whatever else is catching your interest at the moment.
Your current point of interest was the girl 2 rows in front of you, Tiff. A nice girl, really, she was just rather extroverted & had been trying to befriend you as of recently. Not that it was an issue, its just that you cringe thinking about your past interactions.
You had been making your way off campus, ready to head home & do a whole lot of nothing, when Tiff had stopped you. You still remember the way you froze up when she grabbed your shoulder. Her touch had felt like fire against your skin, even now, the pressure of her fingers felt like it had been burnt into your skin, no matter how much you wash your body, the phantom sense won't leave you. She had asked you some sort of question, you're not sure, all you remember is how suffocated you felt. Like even if you had an answer, there was a hand squeezing the inside of your throat, making it impossible for any semblance of a response to leave you.
Tiff was an understanding girl, though. Despite you just standing there like a deer caught in headlights, she didn't judge, didn't even give you a weird look. She simply apologized and walked off. Since then, you've been trying to understand her interests in hopes of befriending her.
Snapping back to reality, everyone had already left the class, leaving you scrambling to collect your things and go about your day.
Almost every class goes like this, you space out, think about somebody you have or haven't interacted with, until eventually the school day comes to an end.
I'm kind of tired of reading stories where the "reader" is always perfect, delicate, attractive, fitting perfectly into the mold. I want stories where the readers are strange, socially awkward, and outside the common norm. Normally, I always see the characters I love being the pervert, the weird one, the obsessive one.
Man, I'm weird, perverted, and obsessive. I genuinely want more Weird!Character x weird! reader fanfiction.
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