A/N: I do not own American Horror Story or the song this is named after, that belongs to Pierce The Veil. I just recently got really into American Horror Story. I immediately became fixated with Tate and Violet. I love the darkness within Tate and the volatile love story which unfolded between the young lovers. I knew I needed to write a fan fiction about, something dark and interesting. So here is my hard work splayed out for the world to read. I must admit my favorite AHS Violate authors are applythepressure and Lovely Helena. I hope to someday be as talented as those amazing writers. So, please enjoy my first AHS Violate fan fiction. Reviews make me happy as a clam too. Without further ado...enjoy!


"Time is what we want most,but what we use worst."
William Penn


Forever did not seem long at all when she took the time to consider she had already been dead for almost twenty years. Two decades had passed since she thought life was impossible to handle and took handful after handful of colorful pills. She did not remember how she died, she could only recall the weight of the tiny pills in her hand. They were tiny harbingers of death, waiting for her to gather the courage and swallow them all at one time. However, she took them two at a time until the world started to fade away. The darkness called to her, it taunted her so nicely with promises and wishes. But all she received was being trapped in this house for a lifetime –forever, to be exact – because when you died in this house, you were never allowed to leave.


She hadn't known she was dead until her parents tried to vacate her from the house. They told her to pack all of her belongings because they were going back home, LA had been a mistake. Her parents realized a move cross country would not repair their damaged marriage or bring back their stillborn child. The house had taken away all of the light from their small family and left behind gaping wound of darkness. Her mother held her by the waist and led her down the stairwell, promising the family would be much happier when they had returned to New England. She was so close to being free when the door opened and... she was standing back in her bedroom.

He stood there with a smirk plastered on his angelic face, blonde curls covering his big, brown eyes. "Were you thinking of going somewhere?" he asked, slowly taking steps towards her.

She tried to step back, but he matched her until he had her pinned against the door. He smiled in that way of his, tilting his head to look into her eyes.

"I am leaving," she whispered, afraid of what he would do if she looked into his eyes. She focused on her worn moccasins and waited for him to disappear the way he usually did. But he stayed, placing his hands on either side of her slender frame and waiting for her to elaborate. There was no anger in his eyes, only twisted amusement. It seemed as though he was in on a secret she didn't even know she had.

He laughed, his body shaking with glee. He had to steady himself with both hands to stop his laughter from causing him to topple both of them over. She had no idea because he had not told her. He had kept the secret hidden deep inside, hoping she would not have to find out this way.

"I couldn't save you," he finally spoke, the laughter diminished and solemness took its place. "I tried so hard...but it was too late. I didn't want to you find out this way. Because I didn't think you would ever want to leave me." He traced his fingers over the bare skin of her upper arm, hoping to distract her.

She shook her head vehemently, sinking to the floor with fear. He grabbed her with his strong arms and sat down with her. Her body shook with silent sobs as he cradled her, still shaking her head to deny what he had just told her.

"You're dead now. And you will never get to leave," he whispered. "I love you. Now we can stay together forever like we had always wanted.I tried to save you… I did. I tried to make you throw them threw up some, not enough. You took so many, Violet. You died crying. I held you. You were safe. You died… loved. "

Dead. Her suicide attempt had been a success, but she did not remember dying. She recalled the cold water and the way he made her vomit up the pills. It had not been enough though because she was dead. She would remain a perpetual fifteen year old, trapped inside this hell hole for all of eternity.

This was his fault. He had fucked with her mind so much, she had nowhere else to turn. She thought death would be her escape, but she would forced to see him forever.

Unless...

She pushed him away with her small hands, watching the hurt fill his eyes. With every ounce of strength left her body, she looked him in the eye.

Tears began to freely fall from his eyes, waiting for her to speak. He was terrified of what she would say, what she would do, and how he would handle the aftermath.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was different then," he pleaded.

"Yeah," she nodded, trying to fight back tears of her own. "I used to think you were like me. That you were attracted to the darkness. But Tate, you are the darkness."

"No," he shook his head and licked his lips. The tears had stopped and he tried to reach out to her. "Before you, that's all there was. You're the only light I've ever known. You've changed me, Violet."

She slowly exhaled and looked into his tear stained darkened eyes, wishing she could believe what he saying. "I believe that," she said, eliciting a small smile from him. She stroked his cheek gently. "I love you, Tate. But I cannot forgive you. You lied to me. I am dead."

"No!" he screamed, closing his eyes to fight back the reemerging tears.

"Yes! You need to pay for what you have done, all of the pain and sorrow you caused. My parents now have lost both of their children. How am I supposed to tell my mother I will never grow up and get married? This is all your fault. Stuck here forever because of you. As long as I am damned to roam this earth, I will never forgive you. Ever. I can't be with you. I can't look at you."

She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest to protect herself. With a deep breath, she stood up and walked towards the door. Her followed her, reaching his hand out as though he would be able to stop her. Each step she took, he followed.

"What are you saying?" he asked, not really wanting to hear her answer.

She looked at him with all the anger and hate she could muster, her body shook from the weight of the emotion. She tried to steady herself by wrapping her arms around herself. Suddenly, her woolen cardigan did not seem to keep the chill overwhelming her body. It was like the darkness was trying to force its way into her.

He looked so angelic with his blonde curls and sweet eyes, his tall frame clothed in a faded Nirvana tee and ripped jeans. His tears shattered the little pieces of her heart that were left, but she refused to let him manipulate her any longer.

"I'm saying, go away!" she hissed at him, placing her hand on the doorknob.

He blinked for a moment, tears streaming down his face. He did not want to believe what she was about to say. When he told her to make the ghosts who frightened her disappear, he never anticipated he would fall under the category.

He shook his head, pleading. "Please, no. Don't do this. I am sorry! I am. I never meant to hurt you. Don't fucking do this to me!"

"GO AWAY, TATE!" she screamed with everything she had.

He screamed back with his eyes closed in anger, feeling the darkness seeping into him and coursing through his veins. "You're all I want! You're all I have!"

She began to cry, but screamed, "Go away!"

Expecting him to be gone, she opened her eyes. Instead, she found him watching her with an amalgamation of hatred and hurt in his eyes.

"You can't make someone disappear if you don't really want them gone. Lesson one," he retorted, closing the gap between them. "And I promise you, you will pay for that dearly, my love."

With that, he vanished. She was left alone to wonder what to say to her parents and what he had in store for her.


Define psychopath, would you? Could it be considered the man who raped and sodomized a young girl, skinned her alive, and then consumed her flesh for his pleasure? Or it could it possibly be the young man with angelic blonde locks and longing eyes who murdered fifteen people who never even had the chance to live?

It is difficult to point the finger at someone and define them with medical terminology and confine them to some kind of stifling label. The term psychopath is not easy to define. The medical definitions delve into personality, environment, and other external and internal contributing factors. A psychopath is someone who has a personality disorder in which they have very cursory emotions, lack empathy, have coldheartedness, possess superficial charm, are highly manipulative, very erratic in behavior, show tendencies towards criminality and engage in anti social behaviors.

Both are now dead, but only one felt remorse. He could not live what he did. In the dark of the night, he would hear sobbing and see shadows looming out of the corner of his eye. He began to leave all of the lights on at night to prevent the shadows from creeping over his shoulders, but the sobbing would not go away. He would hear it while he slept, when he gazed through the slats of his old blinds to spy on his neighbors, and then the shadow came for him. It was the little girl with her skin all gone, telling him he would pay for his sins.

The other one? He knows what he did. He could even admit it if you asked him. But Tate Langdon never felt remorse. Not for the young people he killed. For the gay couple he murdered. In fact, he usually did not feel much of anything.

Violet Harmon changed him though. She made the psychopath feel there was light at the end of the winding tunnel. He thought she would his forever, but she told him to go away. She didn't mean it, but he knew Violet needed space so he vanished for awhile.

When you had forever, there was more than enough time to plan revenge. If you asked him, Tate would tell you revenge was one of his favorite games. Time to make a move, Tate smiled to himself. Violet Harmon would rue the day she ever tried to get rid of Tate Langdon.

Let the game begin.


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