AHS x Reader

Tate Langdon 1 (❤️)

Tw: TALKS ABT A SCHOOL SHOOTER/SHOOTING.

Y/N was a normal girl who unknowingly moved into the Murder House with her family.

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POV: First person

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Whenever I walked into the strange house I knew something was wrong. My parents couldn't sense it though, it was as if the house had an aura, or was alive.

I crept around the hallways trying to find anything of evidence for my hypothesis. Sadly, I didn't find anything that was worth my while.

Once my parents decided to actually keep the house I highly frowned upon it since all the energy of it wasn't good to me. But my parents didn't listen.

I went inside my room to check it out but I felt a sense of someone watching me. I turned around to see if anyone was actually there but no one was.

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Time skip of a few days

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Whenever we got everything settled down I started hearing strange noises inside my bedroom. I looked all about and saw nothing. Until, I did a final check and saw a large boy. He had blond hair scattered everywhere, deep brown eyes that you could daze at forever, an oval shaped face, and a stripped sweater with jeans.

"Who are you?" I asked the strange man.

"Hi, I'm Tate," the man replied with.

"How did you get in my house?" I questioned him.

"Ehh, I have my ways," he said.

"Aren't you one of my dad's patients?" I asked him.

"Yes, I am. But how do you know?" He asked me.

"I've seen you before it just didn't process in my mind," I replied.

"Well... Do you want me to stay?" He paused as he said this, it seemed as if he forgot what he was going to say.

"Uhmmmm sure," I said.

I escorted him to my bed and started to question him.

"Sooooo, what school do you go to?"

"Westfield High," he responded.

"How come I haven't seen you at school?" I asked.

"Circumstance I guess," he said.

"That's kinda odd..." I said, mumbling to myself.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Nothing," I said.

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Time skip to later that night

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I decided to try and determine who Tate actually was. So, I googled his name. Luckily, I found out his last name was Langdon through Constance, our next door neighbor.

Once I looked him I up I saw something truly disturbing. Tate Langdon was the name of a dead school shooter at my highschool. (No wonder why I never saw him at school) and he apparently died in.... my bedroom. He killed 15 students at Westfield High.

I gasped when I saw this and immediately shut my computer.

Suddenly, Tate immerged in my room.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Tate. Why didn't you tell me who you were?" I completely ignored his question and asked my own.

"Oh. You found out? Huh?"

"Yeah. I did," I said.

Tate looked at me blankly for a minute and then said, "Look, Y/N, I don't want you to think about me differently just because I killed 15 people. Okay? I was a teen boy who didn't know any better and only wanted pain. Like how you know in '99 with Columbine? That's how I felt."

There was so much to comprehend with that sentence. Just because he was an angsty teenage boy doesn't mean he could get away with killing 15 kids. And how did he know about Columbine? Luckily, whenever I asked him about it he said that there were previous owners who talked about it.

BONUS:

Me and Tate have definitely talked a lot and I can now say that we're getting better. We have thorough conversations about his previous actions and we have talked through how sympathetic he is to them.

I believe he is getting better psychologically.