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Ahs Murder House - Blog Posts
☠︎✧˚༘⋆｡♡˚ ☠︎✧˚༘⋆｡♡˚ Tate Langdon ☠︎✧˚༘⋆｡♡˚ ☠︎✧˚༘⋆｡🫶🏻
✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ✩ ₊˚
American Horror Story | Murder House ˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚⛤ ㅤ
Violet and Tate 🖤
All my feminism goes out the window when I lay eyes on this man... Uff😬
made by me via instagram 😋
#be there or be square
NEED HIM SO BAD KNAWING AT THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE BACKDOOR OVER A TABLE ON SET IN HIS TRAILER WTF GIVE IT TO ME PETERS
girls get to a certain age realize that they are violet harmon 🍂☠️🖋️
I'm her but I'm also everyone with their boujee designer bullshit
"I hate it here. I hate everyone, all their boujee designer bullshit."
One of my favorite seasons, one of my favorite characters, one of my favorite actresses ︎
I was listening to Bang! by AJR and it just seemed to fit.
Happy birthday, Kurt Cobain 💔🎸
« I will move away from here
You won’t be afraid of fear
No thought was put into this
I always knew to come like this
Things have never been so swell
I have never failed to feel
Pain. »
🖤 Nirvana - You Know You're Right
TikTok | Instagram
I painted it black, I know how you don’t like normal things...🌹
HAPPY VALENTINE'S
DAY
Instagram | TikTok
ＡＭＥＲＩＣＡＮ
ＨＯＲＲＯＲ
ＳＴＯＲＹ
“𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐝, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.” - 𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘯
happy Halloween 🎃
Pretty Girls Make Graves - Tate Langdon
Multi Part Series
Dear America; From The Rubble to The Riches
Plot: Reader has just moved into the murder house and meets a certain character.
Warnings: Smoking, Drug use, Self Deprecation, Undiagnosed Dyslexia
When my mom told me we had to move, it didn't surprise me. The house we lived in cost too much, and there wasn't room for me, mom and my brothers. We moved house a lot to be honest. I was seventeen but had lived in over 20 different houses. It was the way mom lived. She had money and time, so she spent it being a nutcase, and we were along for the ride.
My mom was a bit of a hippy, and when I say a bit I mean a lot. She was living constantly in this "free love" dream where it was people's obligation to step away from society. Ever since I was tiny every house we've lived in has been filled with strangers. She lead a kind of open door lifestyle, with constant lodgers. They generally came along to coincide with whatever her new "calling" was.
I was the youngest child. I had two older brothers, Chris and Nathan. Chris was 23, but couldn't move out because he was too mentally unstable to keep a job. Nathan was 19, smart, with plans to go to college in New York if he could just stop messing about with drugs. I got on with Chris better, he was the one who bought me cigarettes.
The house we moved to was a large Victorian town house in L.A. It was exactly mom's kind of place, and was largely underpriced. She bought it instantly.
~•|•|•~
A week later we were bringing all our stuff into the house. I was carrying a box of CD's, ready to take them to the attic bedroom, which after several fights I had claimed as my room. I was currently paying for it, because as I walked in carrying boxes, Nathan kept kicking the backs of my ankles.
"(Y/n), just leave those there," mom instructed, gesturing the hall. "I need your help in the kitchen." I put the box down and walked through. She was in the process of putting mismatched plates into the cupboards.
"Nathan said he's going to piss on my bed if he doesn't get the attic room," I told her, starting to put away the cutlery.
"He won't. Look at this amazing cooker they have in here," she pointed out, distracted. It was a big eggshell range set against the wall. I rolled my eyes. I took a cigarette out the packet I carried and lit it. Mom turned round. "Hey!" she scolded. "Share."
I gave her one and we leant against the counter.
"I bet school is shit," I complained.
"I know, honey. But I've still got to send you, even if I'd rather not."
I turned back to grab a mug to use as an ashtray. Mom started putting plates away again. We chatted, until I turned around to see a teenage boy stood by the back door. I jumped, almost dropping the glass I was holding. Mom turned round and saw him too.
"Hello," she greeted him in a friendly voice. "You must be the new neighbor." He smiled at her.
"Yeah, I'm Tate. My mom lives next door."
"Well, feel free to come in here anytime, we run an open door system, don't we (n/n)?" she asked me. I shrugged.
"I was wondering if you needed any help moving things," he offered. I didn't entirely trust him. He was dressed grungey, battered converse, ripped jeans and a knitted sweater, but was giving this kind of American Boy charm to try impress my mom. If he thought it was working, he was wrong. He could have told her he was a drug addict with intent to steal money to pay for gear and he would have got the same welcome. Mom loved pretending to save people.
"That's would be amazing of you. (Y/n), Tate can help you take your stuff up to the top floor."
"Sure, whatever," I agreed, stubbing my cigarette out into the mug. I went through to the hall and Tate followed. Chris and Nathan had just brought the sofa in and were arguing about it. Nathan spotted me walk in.
"Hey, you got one last chance to give me the attic room before I piss on all your shit," he warned me. I pulled the middle finger at him, picking up a box.
"Tate, you can just grab that one," I told him, nodding my head towards it.
"It's a bit soon for mom to have her friends in isn't it?" Chris asked me.
"That's Tate, he lives next door." Tate grabbed the box. "You can also speak to him directly, his ears work."
"Smartass."
Tate and I took the boxes up the stairs.
"Are they your brothers?" Tate asked. I nodded, not bothering to respond properly. "Are you going to Westfield?" I nodded again. "Why are you not fucking talking to me?" he snapped. I kept walking, but responded.
"Cause you're asking dumb questions. Do you go to Westfield?"
"I used to, but they kicked me out."
We got to the top bedroom and put the boxes down.
"What did you do?" I asked him, grinning. He frowned.
"Nothing much, just caused a bit of trouble."
~•|•|•~
Tate helped us move in over the weekend. It was lucky that we didn't really own a lot of stuff. It was mainly furniture, pots and pans and then all of mom's hippy crap. On the Monday, I had school. Chris dropped me off, giving me a tap on the hand before I got out his car.
"Hey, don't let anyone get away with any shit," he told me reassuringly. "And brush your hair, it looks like ass." I smiled at him half heartedly.
The first class I was in was English. I hated it. The teacher seemed nice enough but it had never been my subject, not that any of them were. It was a new term. She suggested a spelling test. The rest of the class groaned.
"We're not babies," one of the girls complained. I felt dread. After I'd finished I looked down at the words.
1. Culor
2. Defense
3. Axidentally
4. Foren
5. Principel
6. Realize
7. Nessercery
8. Happened
9. Carecter
10. Lesure
None of the words looked right. I felt like an idiot, but letters made no sense to me. The teacher gathered in our tests, and then handed out the books. Wuthering Heights. I felt dread in the pit of my stomach. If we had to read this on our own I couldn't possibly do it in time.
"I want us to read this as a class, now we have a new student. (Y/n) Bone, would you care to start on the first chapter?"
"What?"
"Just read it aloud, the first couple of paragraphs."
"No."
"Sorry?"
"I don't want to," I desperately tried to explain. She frowned.
"You don't have a choice, now go on."
I took a deep breath, opening the first page. The words seemed to wriggle around as I tried to recognise them.
"I have... just... returned form..." I struggled, conscious of how slowly I read.
"It's from," she added in.
"Oh. From a vis- visit to my... landlord." I paused, feeling my ears turn red in embarrassment. I heard whispers behind me and clapped the book shut loudly, making everyone jump.
"Keep reading," the teacher instructed in a firm voice.
"No." I was mortified. My first day and it had been revealed to everyone that I could barely read.
"You will do as you're told, I looked through your test and your spelling is atrocious, now get back to reading the book, and I'm writing you up for detention." I stood up, receiving an incredulous look.
"Fuck off," I told her, grabbing my bag and walking straight to the door and walking out. When I was out in the hall I kicked a locker and kept walking till I was outside. I sat on a bench and lit a cigarette. I sat, chain smoking, trying to decide whether to go to my next lesson or to leave. I contemplated this until I was joined on the bench. The guy had long, dark hair and a Slayer t-shirt on, chain on his jeans and a leather jacket.
"You're in shit with the principal now," he told me, pointlessly.
"I don't care."
"Well done on having the balls to walk out of Mrs Parks class."
"Who are you?" I asked bluntly, not wanting to bother with small talk.
"Dev, Dev Khare." He offered his hand to me, a gesture I ignored. "Come on, this place is fucking hell already. It's gonna be a bit better if you have someone to hang out with."
"I like being on my own."
"Bullshit." He reached into to the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a joint and raising his eyebrow at me. I looked back at him, unable to help cracking a smile. "We can skip next period and come back after lunch break."
I followed him to his car, an old Honda Accord, hopping in the passenger seat.
"This is a really old car," I commented, running a hand over the dash.
"Yeah, it's my dad's old one," Dev told me proudly. "Do you like metal?"
"Not really," I replied, honestly.
"There's a Misfits tape in the glove box, put that one on."
I opened the glove box, looking over the tapes he had. TOOL, Deftones, Slayer and Rage Against the Machine were just some. I found the Misfits tape and put it in the cassette player. Heavy guitars started blaring through the stereo.
~•|•|•~
I ended up ditching the last two classes and getting Chris to pick me up. He dropped me outside the house before leaving to go apply for another job that wouldn't last the week. I walked into the living room to find Tate sat on the sofa with three randos. I assumed he had taken my mom's open door policy as an invitation to spend his time here instead of at home. Apparently her gang of hippies had already shown up. They were passing a spliff round the group.
"Hey," said a white man with matted dreadlocks, spotting me as a walked in. "And who are you, friend?"
"Someone who actually fucking lives here," I replied, irritated. School had been crap, I was hardly in the mood for hippy stoner crap from a random trustafarian. I turned round and stated walking up the stairs to my room. Tate stood up and followed me.
"How was school," he asked, trying to keep up with me.
"Why are you following me Tate?"
"'Cause you're pissed off. I like people when they're pissed off."
If I was less annoyed, I'd be impressed by his response.
"Following me is only gonna make me more pissed off," I snapped.
"Good," he replied. "I wanna see what being pissed off makes you do."
I reached my bedroom and walked in, immediately noticing a dark patch on my red bedsheets.
"For fucksake," I cursed, feeling utterly defeated.
"Is that... piss?" Tate asked.
"Yeah," I responded, my voice wobbling. I felt my eyes prick and hot tears running down my face. I tried to forcefully wipe them away before Tate noticed, but he was already looking at me, almost surprised.
"Are you crying?" he asked me, sounding almost concerned.
"No," I lied, sniffling. He was the last person I wanted to see me cry. I hardly ever did, but the whole day had left me feeling like the ground had been taken from beneath my feet, and all of Tate's persistence to not leave me alone had made me feel a lot weaker than I wanted to be.
"Hey," Tate said softly, cautiously moving close enough to carefully wrap his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. "Don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry." I let him give me a hug, wiping my eyes on the back of my sleeve.
"I don't cry normally," I apologised, ears feeling red and hot with my shame. "Especially not over stupid shit like this." He didn't let me go, just held me up next to his chest while I made my lame excuse.
"What made you so upset then? Was it the piss? I can help you get him back," Tate reassured, patting me on the back a little awkwardly. I shook my head, moving away from him.
"No, it was just school."
"Westfield is full of assholes."
"School makes me feel so goddamn stupid. Probably because I am," I complained, moving to the stereo on the floor. I never had a lot a furniture, not even a bed frame, just my mattress on the floor. It made it easier with all the moving house. I didn't mind. I put in a CD, one I made on a friends computer. Heaven Beside You by Alice In Chains started playing.
"I think you're smart," Tate told me. He was stood next to my bed, playing with the sleeve of his jumper.
"You don't know me Tate." I sighed. "I can barely fucking read, and that bitch made me do it in front of everyone."
"You can't read?"
"How shitty is your mom that you wanna be round here all the time?" I changed the subject.
"Very," he bristled. "She's a whore." I raised an eyebrow.
"Take it you don't get on with stepdads?"
"None of them. How'd you know it was stepdads?" he asked, looking from his shoes to meet my eye.
"Guessed. Kinda seemed like you were the kinda guy who's dad walked out and hasn't got over it."
"See. You are smart."
One Way Ticket
Tate Langdon x Reader | Angst |
Summary: Seven months worth of empty promises. Seven months of waiting for things to change yet somehow they always stay the same. Trying to change the outcome of an already released film, is just as pointless as trying to leave the Murder House.
Word Count: 865
——————————————————————————
Ten months ago, YN moved in into the famous house of horrors in Los Angeles, California.
Nine months ago, a strange yet compelling boy next door introduced himself to her as Tate Langdon, one of her neighbors from down the street.
Eight months ago, the pair shared their very first kiss.
Seven months ago, Tate had asked YN to be his girlfriend, to which she of course agreed.
At first everything was absolutely perfect, Tate would come over every day and since YN has been busy with finishing her last year of high school online, it was the ideal plan. She wouldn’t have to leave her house and could focus on her studies, and Tate could enjoy his “nature walks”, as he called them.
The two teens enjoyed spending time together and could confide in one another about different troubles.
However as summer approached, the honeymoon phase of their relationship seemed to end. They started getting into more and more fights, which would almost always end up in Tate begging for forgiveness.
At first the fights were about small things that piled up, but as time passed their problems only grew.
After finishing school, YN wanted to get out of the house more, maybe even book a trip for the summer. Tate however wanted nothing to do with those plans. He was set on sticking to their regular routine and would always insist on putting off her plans for different times.
One day after suggesting yet another fun summer activity and getting turned down yet again, the poor girl has had enough.
“Alright you know what.” Tate gave her a look but continued looking through her cd collection.
“Why do you always insist on always staying at my house? I there like a warrant for your arrest that I don’t know about?” She scoffed.
Tate simply mumbled something about privacy turned to look out the window. He knew he couldn’t tell her, she would think he was absolutely crazy and would kick him out. He was genuinely surprised that none of the other spirits showed themselves to her yet.
After deciding that silence wasn’t a good enough response, YN let out a sigh and moved towards the door.
“You need to go. Now.” At that Tate turned back to her, his eyes widened at her words. For six months of their relationship they hadn’t fought once. However after summer started they seemed to fight quite often.
“Wha-what? Please YN don’t.” He pleaded.
“No Tate, I’ve had enough. You’re always so secretive, you never wanna do anything outside my house. Speaking of, i’ve never even been to yours!” She exclaimed as her cheeks began to heat up from anger.
“I’ve tried to be understanding, I really did. But I can’t keep doing this anymore. Leave and don’t come back Tate.”
He couldn’t help but just stand there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. Tate knew he couldn’t just walk out because she would watch him leave. She would see how as soon as his foot steps over the property line he disappears.
“Fine since you wanna be difficult, i’ll leave. But you better be gone by the time I come back.” She stated as her pointed finger poked his chest.
Quickly YN grabbed her purse and phone making her way into the hallway. She carefully went down the stairs and reached for the door handle.
As the front door opened she felt a punch to the gut and let out a yelp as she fell to the floor. At first she thought she was getting robbed, but the attacker seemed to only be interested in her.
She received a few more punches to her abdomen, then a women’s face came into view. She had a blonde updo and strangely familiar facial features.
“Stay still dear, shouldn’t be long now.” The woman whispered as she gently whipped the tears off of YN’s face.
Before YN could comprehend what had happened the woman left. That’s when the girl moved her hands towards her stomach. As her fingers touched the fabric of her shirt, she realized it was soaked with unknown liquid.
At first she thought that maybe she had spilled something. However, as YN raised her hand to inspect the unfamiliar liquid, she quickly realized it was none other than blood.
Panic started to overtake YN as she figured out she was stabbed by the blonde. Her eyes darted across the foyer in an attempt to find her phone and call for help.
As she lay on the floor, unable to get up or even move, a few stray tears escaped her eyes.
She had only recently graduated, her life was only beginning. She should have gotten to live it to the fullest and enjoy all the joys of it. Instead she was robbed of that. YN would never graduate college, travel the world, or marry the love of her life.
While her mind was racing with thousands of thoughts, her eyelids slowly became heavier. Her breath became labored and her whole body continued to shiver.
After a few more minutes of agony, YN became yet another victim of the Murder House.
Another soul added to the collection.
——————————————————————————
Ps: Hi guys! I know i’ve kinda disappeared for a while but im back. I would really like to start writing more so here I am. Requests are open so please feel free to send them! <3
Kisses and hugs, Anna
Born in Flames |
Tate Langdon x Reader
Word Count: 1,012
synopsis: Can the devil himself find comfort in simple things? Or does he crave something more cynical..
We are born alone and we die alone, but what happens after?
The raindrops were flowing down the car window as houses passed me by in a frenzy of color. My parent’s car pulls at a stop next to the shiny black gates of the famous “Murder House.” The new residence of the Harmon family, the perfect home to start over.
“Alright girls, why don’t you head inside and pick out your bedrooms.” Says Vivian as she starts to gather her belongings.
The wooden floors creaked as Violet and I stepped through the threshold of the mansion. Walking up the grand staircase was like descending into the unknown yet familiar abyss. The smell of vinegar was overpowering to say the least, in an attempt to get away from it I stepped into the first room I could find.
It was a bedroom with cerulean colored walls, two windows next to each other and arcs decorating the ceiling. The room reminded me of my childhood, before my parent’s murder that is.
In 1994 both of my parents got invited to speak at a local high school. I was two years old when I received the news of my parents death. Turns out the day that they were visiting the school, some kid decided to play god. He shot and killed fifteen people that day, two of them being my parents.
Since Vivan knew my parents, she offered to adopt me. After a long plane ride from California to Massachusetts I finally met my step sister, Violet. During our childhood Vi and I got along quite well, but as high school came around we drifted apart.
Now because of Ben I was standing in a house a few blocks away from my family home. Finding out that you are moving to Los Angeles sounds like a dream right? Wrong, it felt more like a waking nightmare, but both Ben and Vivian were sure that this was the place to be.
——————————————————————————
“So, is this the room that you picked?” Questions Violet as she enters the azule bedroom.
“Um yeah I guess so.. it has a nice atmosphere.” I answer while giving the room one last look.
After our short exchange both Violet and I head back downstairs to help our parents with the boxes. The movers arrived shortly after to move in our furniture and the heavier items. Overall the day seemed to be going quite well, peaceful even. That is until one of our neighbors decided to pay us an unexpected visit.
Turns out that said neighbour was a middle aged woman who lived in the house next to ours. She spent most of her visit talking to Vivian, but of course after a while she came around to greet the entire family. After a quick “hello” in Ben’s direction and a brisk conversation with Violet, it was my turn to meet the blonde woman.
“Saving the best for last I see… you must be YN. I’m Constance, I live next door.” Said the blonde as she made her way to where I was standing.
“Yes ma’am that’s me, it’s lovely to meet you.” I tried my best to sound as genuine as possible, but it was hard to deny that Constance gave me the creeps. Something about her just didn’t sit right with me.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes… and so well mannered.” Said Constance as she studied me for a few more moments before moving on. By the time she said her goodbyes to Ben and Vivian, I was already heading up the grand staircase.
——————————————————————————
After a few more hours of unpacking, it was time to head off to bed. I grabbed my pajamas along with some hygiene products and headed off to the bathroom.
The cold water felt so refreshing against my flushed face, the LA heat was definitely no joke. As I continued splashing my face with the cooling liquid, I swear I felt a sudden gust of wind hit my bare legs.
Not bothering to wipe my face with the towel, I moved closer to the air conditioning duct. No matter how close my hand was to the vent, I couldn’t feel any of the frigid air from before. After a while I decided to forget about the incident and try to get some sleep.
My first night in the famous “Murder House” went by quickly and rather peacefully. For the first time in months I could truly say that I got a good night's rest. This was the first night in a long time that I didn’t have any nightmares, it felt as if someone scared them away.
——————————————————————————
The following morning went by in a blurry haze, and before I knew it the time on the clock read four pm. I decided to head downstairs and make myself some chamomile tea. As I was waiting for the tea kettle I heard a light knock on the front door. When I opened it I was expecting to see Constance or maybe the mailman, however both of those guesses were wrong.
It was a boy around my age, if not a bit older, he had blonde curly hair and wore a 90’s style outfit.
“Hello, I’m Tate. I uh live next door.”
“I’m YN, come on in.” I responded as I moved out of the way so that he could get in the house.
“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Tate commented on the decorations and furniture we put up the day prior.
“Oh um thanks, not to be rude but did you need something?” I questioned as the blonde looked at the picture frames hanging on the walls.
“Yeah actually here to see Ben Harmon.”
“You’re a patient of his?” I asked as my curiosity got the best of me.
Before Tate could answer, Ben came out of his office and introduced himself to the blonde. After a few minutes of small talk, Ben guided Tate towards the office and just like that both of them disappeared behind the closed doors.
——————————————————————————
PS. Im going to be taking a break soon but I will be back here in a few weeks. Requests are open so please feel free to send them! <3
OCTOBER IS HEREEEEE TIME FOR ME TO EXPERIENCE SOMETHING TRAUMATIC, ROMANTICIZE IT, AND WIND UP IN A MONTH LONG DEPRESSION RIGHT IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS SEASONN YASSSSSSS🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
tate langdon is the reason for my happiness
that’s all.
AMERICAN HORROR STORY
Tate Langdon:
Young Love: The sweetness of the rain allows for the feelings of love. Just some fluffy Tate :)
(Romance/Fluff)
Together Forever: Tate isn't letting you go now that he has you within his grasp. You're his and he'll do anything to remind you of that. Even if it means your death.
(Romance/Angst/Yandere)
Together Forever
Paring: Tate Langdon X Reader
⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a corpse, yandere behaviors on Tate's part, angst, threats made against people ⚠️
"You died crying. I held you. You were safe. You died loved."
Tate held you while your shoulders shook from sobbing. You had just caught a glimpse of the body that laid in the basement; limbs contorted and bent out of shape. It's mouth gaping open and eyes rolled into the back of it's head; maggots and worms crawling in and out of it's ears. The sight was entirely gruesome and you felt the sudden urge to vomit. That couldn't be you. There's no way that was you. You couldn't have overdosed on those pills you only took a couple!
Suddenly Tate's arms felt heavy and intrusive. They felt as though they were holding you down to the spot, forcing you to look at the sight below. Yes, that was it. It was Tate's fault since he was the one who dragged you down here!
You pushed Tate off of you and made a run for the stairs. He stayed for just a moment before he went after you shouting your name. You ignored him and turned the corner from the kitchen to the foyer without so much as giving him a second look. You tried to make it to your room but saw that Tate was blocking your way.
"(Y/N). Please, baby. Talk to me." He slowly tried to approach you, his hand out towards you like you were some wild animal.
"Stay the hell away from me! You're a psycho!"
Tate felt his heart jerk in his chest. He was used to people calling him crazy but the last person he expected it from was you. Sweet and innocent you that held his hand when you walked around the beach. Sweet and innocent you that played with his hair while he slept on your chest. Sweet and innocent you that just called him a psycho.
"(Y/N). I know you love me. Stop acting like you don't."
"You're crazy! I should've listened to them! You fucking killed me!" You took some steps back, tears running down your face and your hand twitching at your side in panic. This was the worst anxiety attack you've ever had and the person who you usually found comfort with in times like these was currently your reason for having one. God, you should've listened when everyone said he was bad news. But you were blinded with love at the time.
"(Y/N). I would never kill you. I held you as you died. I told you how much I loved you in your last moments and I was the last thing you saw. You overdosed on those pills to stay here with me. I know you did. Why else would you do it? You're not suicidal." Tate started to get angrier with every passing minute. You weren't used to being the source of his anger and after only seeing him as quiet and reserved, needless to say, you were terrified. Terrified of what he was capable of. Terrified of what you knew he was capable of.
You had to think of something to crush him. Something to get him to leave you alone forever. You hated what he did to you. You hated the person he brought out in you. Why did things have to end up this way?
"You don't love me. If you loved me you wouldn't let me die."
Tate's eyes went dark. "What the fuck did you just say?" He yelled and the lights flickered on and off; the lampshades shook and the furniture moved away from where you two were standing. You had never seen this side of your boyfriend before.
"Stop acting like you care! Go away Tate! Go away!"
"You're all I want! You're all I have!" His hands clenched at his sides and his hair stuck to his face. He wasn't going down without a fight. You didn't want him to leave you! Why would you want him to leave you? No one has ever loved you like he has. No one would die for you like him. No one would kill for you like him.
You tried to run for your room again but Tate caught you in his arms and held you there despite your struggling. After a couple minutes of squirming around you fell limp into his side. There was no way of getting out of this. You were damned to this house now. Your parents would never be able to leave. You were stuck.
"Just give up now!" Tate pulled you in closer so he could stop your movements entirely and hold you to his chest. "Baby, please just give up."
You stopped and you let him embrace you. What was the point anyways? He would just find you again. He wouldn't let you leave now that you were with him. You belonged to him in his eyes and that wouldn't change; dead or alive.
"You were the one who took the pills, (Y/N). That was all you. But now we'll be together forever."
Another tear rolled down your cheek.
"The way it was always supposed to be, love."
The two of you sat on the floor in the middle of the room; one of you excited for the future and the other wishing they could die again.
Y o u n g L o v e
Pairing: Tate Langdon X Reader
⚠️ Warnings: none ⚠️
Listen to this song while you read:
You slipped into the cold black sheets that adorned your mattress as you prepared yourself for sleep. It was an autumn night and you were ready to fall asleep listening to the rain patter against the glass of your bedroom window. The red panes cast an eerie glow over everything and made your room illuminated in the color. There was something soft and beautiful about it; something you couldn't put your finger on that made you feel as though you were safe and comfortable. Ironically, you were living in a house full of ghosts.
But they were not bad.
Your head hit the pillow and your eyes met the ceiling. It had only been a month since you've moved into the infamous Murder House, yet you were content. The house may have been old and the people may have been rude, but you found yourself here. And you were grateful.
"Hey."
You felt the bed dip next to you and you moved over to the left side to make room for Tate as you participated in your nightly routine. His hand met your back as your face met his chest, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. This is where you felt the safest. Surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and the cashmere of your boyfriend's sweater. The feeling of a now warm bed and the arms resting delicately over your frame. You wouldn't trade this for the world.
Tate kissed you softly on the head; the rain crashing against your window as the storm's intensity increased. Thunder rolled in and made the quiet house alive with the noise of the sky and the universe above. And amongst it all; you were holding your favorite part of the universe in your arms. His short breaths hitting the top of your head and the sound of his heartbeat resonating through his chest signifying that he was both comfortable and in love.
"Hey. Enjoying the rain?" You softly asked him.
He smiled and let out a short laugh. "Of course I am."
He moved your hair out of your face so that he could look you in the eyes. Tate has done a lot of bad in this world. He wasn't always the sweet and loving person you knew him as today. There was a time when his name brought people fear and pain instead of admiration and peace. You were lucky to know him now; you had gone most of your life thinking that people could never change but here he was. Living proof that people aren't always what they seem.
"I love you so much." He said as his gaze met yours. "And I wouldn't trade you for the world." He planted another kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you once more in his arms. In his mind, that's exactly where you belonged, even though there were times where he didn't believe he deserved to have you there. Times when he was alone and found his thoughts drifting to you as they usually did. Times when he saw you leave the house and remembered that you were very much alive. That you still had things to do and people to meet and experiences to have. He felt so selfish for keeping you to himself sometimes knowing that the house was all he could offer you besides from himself. And it crushed him.
As guilty as he felt, having you here tonight made all of his negative thoughts disperse. What had he been so nervous of? Why had he originally fought against the idea of loving you when he first saw you move in? Why had he tried to avoid every attempt of contact you made? Why did he try to convince you that your feelings for him were invalid because you didn't know the truth? It was only when you did find out and you agreed to continue loving him that he let his walls come crashing down.
You still loved him despite his past and the people he's hurt. You still offered to be here and to hold him on nights like these where the loneliness oftentimes took over. You still wore his sweaters and snuggled with him when he felt anxious. You still danced to Nirvana even though it wasn't your taste in music. You still wanted him. And that was more than he could ever ask for.
"Are you okay?" You asked, reaching up to touch his face.
"I'm absolutely perfect."
Lying there, you both fell asleep holding each other and letting the rain drown out the sound of your hearts beating for young love.
Cr: @ dirafames in Pinterest 📍
y’all tate girls can have him, js leave violet w me🙏
i ended up getting ahead of myself and writing a little bit for all the ideas in my notes
STOP
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