So I started American Horror Story, fell down the hellhole that is Tate x Violet (or, actually, Evan x Taissa in general), and have been experiencing major writer's block on 'What The Water Gave Me'. What I do? Start a new story, because apparently I have yet to learn my lesson. This is going to be quite AU, as you guessed by the summary. In the beginning, Tate's only going to be interested in Violet to fulfill his promise to Nora, but that changes kind of quickly once he actually starts talking to her.

I'm trying to get at least a chapter or two ahead before posting the next one to hopefully avoid falling into the pit I usually do for stories where it's a year or more between updates. I'm also DESPERATELY looking for someone to Beta this if they're interested.

Chapter 1:

A knock on the door broke through the sound of Nirvana blaring in her ears. Violet entertained the idea of feigning ignorance and letting her dad - or whoever it was - bang on the door a little longer.

"Violet." So it was her dad. "We need to talk."

She let the song finish before pulling the ear buds out and walking to the door. Throwing it open she found her dad had his hand raised to knock again.

"Can you come downstairs?" He asked. "There's something your mom and I need to tell you."

"Let's me guess: you two are getting a divorce," she replied, crossing her arms. The teen had known this was coming - no matter how hard her parents tried to move past her dad's infidelity, they kept relapsing back into fights and arguments.

Ben Harmon opened his mouth and closed it. Violet knew she was right.

She moved to close the door but the man wedged his foot in between. "We need to talk about custody," he said quickly.

"Easy. I'm living with mom."

"Vio-"

The door cut off the rest of her dad's reply.

Violet sat in the passenger seat, staring darkly at the passing California landscape. The divorce, custody, everything had been decided a month ago. And unfortunately, because neither parent was willing to give up custody rights, she was being forced to spend the school year with her dad and summers with her mom. Holidays and school breaks would alternate.

As if that wasn't bad enough, her dad bought some house across the country and were moving the two of them there for "a chance to start over".

She kept her headphones in the entire ride from Boston to LA, turning the music up when her dad tried to speak to her. Eventually the man gave up trying.

They pulled off the highway and drove down a few streets until they pulled up outside a large Victorian-esque house.

A car - presumably belonging to the realtor, who had some things to tell them about their new home- was already parked.

Her dad got out first and immediately went to greet the realtor. Violet followed more slowly, pulling her earbuds out finally and shutting her iPod off.

She took in the house as she walked up the walkway. It was nice - way too nice for her dad to be able to afford it without some severe drawback. That piqued her curiosity, and she hurried to catch up with her dad and the realtor.

Inside was just as fancy looking as the outside, and the teen felt an immediate dislike for it.

"Before I officially put this sold sign out," the realtor began after shutting the door behind them. "I'm required to give full disclosure of any deaths within the past three years." She paused to take a deep breath. "The previous owners died in this house - murder suicide, according to the autopsies."

Violet found herself liking the house suddenly. Her dad had chosen it because it would give the illusion of a semi perfect family - yet the house's history was far from it.

For the first time since they left Boston, she spoke. "I like it." Not that she had a feeling her opinion held any weight - her dad had already put practically everything into this move, this house, already.

Though he looked wary, he told the realtor they would still take the place.

She helped unpack the car before she went to check out the rooms and find one she liked.

The rest of the house had the same clean, ornate furnishing - except for one room on the third floor.

The walls were a dull green color and the only ornate type of things were the brass bed and the chalkboard on the opposite wall.

Immediately she knew that this was the room she was choosing.

"I found my room," she announced as she headed back downstairs. She grabbed the first few boxes with her name on it and hauled them upstairs.

She should have known her cold shoulder treatment was going to end the first opportunity her dad got. Which, of course, came up over dinner.

Because they hadn't had a chance to stock the fridge yet, they had ordered pizza. Violet had been hoping she could at least grab her slices before the man broached the subject, but as her hands were reaching for the box, the lid slammed shut.

"I'm not opening this until we talk," Ben said firmly. "It's not healthy for you to keep all of this bottled up inside you, Violet."

Violet let her hand drop. "What is there to talk about? How all of this is your fault because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants?"

The elder Harmon sighed in exasperation. "I made a mistake, Violet, I know. And I'm sorry. But I want to move past that - we have a chance to start over here. The two of us."

The part of her that was still a little girl that trusted her dad with everything in her being - they used to be so close before shit hit the fan - reared up at that, urging her to accept the olive branch he was offering her. But then she remembered the past few months and shoved that desire far down inside.

"I'm not hungry," she said, turning to head upstairs.

She couldn't completely stop the twinge of guilt though.

A new family had moved in. A father and daughter, this time. After years, there was finally going to be fresh blood in the house. It made the occupants restless - most of them, anyway. For his part, Tate chose to stay in the dark corner of the basement he'd claimed as "his" over the years.

His only interest in the family would be to fulfill his promise to Nora- otherwise, he found he didn't care much. He gave them a few weeks before they left - no one stayed long lately.

"Spending so much time down here isn't a good thing," a voice said.

He turned to face Moira. Him and the redhead maid had an...interesting relationship. They both absolutely despised Constance, and that had originally been the basis of their relationship - bonding over mutual hate.

Now, over a decade later, the relationship had evolved to something resembling mother-son. Or so he assumed- he didn't really know what that felt like.

"They're not going to last long," he replied, shrugging.

"They might," the older woman countered. "The daughter's around your age," she added.

He looked up. "I thought you didn't approve of my promise."

"I don't," Moira told him. "But if you have to do it, better someone closer to your age. You teens are so damn horny consent will be easy."

Tate thought it over. It did make sense - get close to the girl, seduce her, screw her, then take the baby.

"Ok," the blonde answered.

He missed the satisfied look on Moira's face as she turned away.

Violet did her best to continue avoiding her dad the rest of the weekend. She succeeded for the most part. Apparently he had gotten the message she still needed space and let her be.

She was currently outside, puffing on a cigarette, lost in her own head when a voice brought her back to reality.

"You're going to die in there, you know."

She whirled around to find a girl staring at her. The girl was shorter than her, with dark hair.

"What?" She asked.

The girl opened her mouth but was cut off by another voice.

"Addy? Addy, there you are!"

An older woman came into view - the girl's mother Violet was assuming. Unlike her daughter though she had blonde hair and an accent that sounded southern.

"I put Dora on for you," she told the girl. She turned to Violet. "I'm sorry, she has a habit of wandering over here. This house has been unoccupied for a few years now."

"It's fine," the teen replied. Creepy first words aside, she doubted the girl posed too much threat.

"I'm Constance Langdon, by the way. This is my daughter Adelaide. We live next door."

"Violet."

"Well, Violet, it was nice to meet you. We should let you guys get settled," Constance said, grabbing Adelaide's shoulder and turning presumably in the direction of their house.

She sat out there long enough to finish her cigarette and went back inside.

Inside she found her dad standing in the kitchen with a redheaded older woman in a maid uniform.

Her first thought was that this was some weird, kinky thing her dad was into and that he knew no bounds - way too young or way too old, he didn't care.

As if reading her mind the man quickly spoke up.

"Violet, this is Moira. She's going to be helping around the house. Moira, this is my daughter Violet."

So her dad wasn't screwing her. Thank god, she thought.

The redhead extended her hand. Violet took it. "It's nice to meet you," the woman said.

"Likewise," the girl replied. Turning to her dad, she added, "I'll be upstairs."

It turns out the man was a doctor - some sort of psychiatrist. Perfect. No one would deny Tate needed to talk to someone about his...tendencies. And through the doctor he'd get access to the girl.

Not immediately though. He needed to establish something with the man before he went "poking around". Though he knew the house inside and out and was already plotting on how to "run into" the girl.

The girl would be at school currently, and he had to feel a stab of sympathy for her. High school sucked - especially Westfield. From what he'd observed of the girl, it wouldn't be easy for her.

He fed the man some bullshit story about preparing for a "noble war" that turned into a slight rant about how much he despised the world. The session ended soon after that, with the doctor barely blinking an eye at the things he said.

Tate let the door closed behind him before he phased into the basement. He figured he'd go through one more session before approaching the girl.

Bored, he decided to search for Moira...only to find her in the process of attempting to seduce Ben Harmon. He'd give the man credit - he was doing a good job of resisting.

The blonde quickly left them to it, and decided to explore the girl's room. On the way though he noticed the adjacent bathroom door was open and the girl was inside.

He decided he could start his plan ahead of schedule - the sooner he got started, the sooner his promise would be fulfilled. As he got closer - still keeping himself invisible - he noticed she dragged something across her wrist. Bright red blood followed, dripping onto the counter.

Well, that was different. She hadn't been in this house long enough for it to start messing with her psyche, meaning she was fully in control of her actions. As far as he knew, she was the first "damaged" person to move in in years. He suddenly was more interested in going through with the plan.

"You're doing it wrong. If you're trying to kill yourself, cut vertically. They can't stitch that up," he said, becoming visible and leaning against the doorway. She spun around, one hand reaching to cover her wrist, a mixture of fear and surprise crossing her face.

"How'd you get in here?" She asked, confused and slightly embarrassed.

He ignored her question, just smirking at her and stepping back, pulling the door with him. "One more thing: if you're trying to kill yourself, try locking the door next time."

The door shut.

Violet stared at the door for awhile after it shut. Some stranger had spied on her as she cut - and they hadn't tried to stop her. Instead, they'd actually given her advice - how fucked up was that? Never mind the fact that she had no idea how the boy had gotten into her house. Or what he was doing here in the first place.

She knew it was stupid leaving the door open - normally she made sure it was at least shut while she was doing it - but school had been hell. Like she'd anticipated. Of course the queen bitch of the school had zeroed in on her to target as soon as she'd showed up, a cigarette in her mouth.

Her only thought when she had gotten home was to find some relief - something she'd been doing more often after her dad's infidelity was revealed - and that single-minded thought had led to her getting caught.

The teen wouldn't lie - the strange boy piqued her curiosity. Most people, upon seeing another human being self-mutilating, would try to stop the person - not stand by, much less tell them how to do it.

It seems there might still be some things to spark her interest after all these months.