ᯓ★ a teenage musician
a sensitive boy
both kurt cobain fans
both helplessly pining for the other
ᯓ★ tate langdon and y/n l/n, both seniors in the class of 1994 at westfield high. things happen, the two cross paths, and darkness spreads from one to the other in what, on a surface level, seemed to be a silly adolescent relationship. tate truly did need an easy friend, and who other than y/n to fill that spot in his life?
ᯓ★ based on a shower thought i had, i was all like "oh em gee tate and musician reader?? how cutesy" and then i was like "woah i should turn this into a fic" soooo yeah!! i hope ygs enjoy!!
ᯓ★ characters are a mix of ocs and pre-existing characters. tate, constance, addy, kyle, stephanie, etc. etc., all belong to ryan murphy and fx. this is a pre death au of tate langdon from ahs murder house, though some major plot points from the show follow through in the fic.
NOTE: This is a somewhat AU story. Tate is not necessarily tied to just Murder House - it will be explained fairly early on why this is so be on the lookout. This may seem like your typical Tate story and it is at some parts but there is so much more to it as well especially later on).
Sixteen year old Jade Song and her mother move to Los Angeles to help with her elderly grandmother. She meets a young boy named Tate - who is dead unbeknownst to her - at the tag sale next door. Here, he sells her an antique necklace with a history supposedly tied to her house. As weird things begin to happen in the house and Tate seemingly follows her wherever, she begins to question if the necklace is involved somehow. Tate is seemingly sweet but secrets about him eventually begin to unravel as do many revelations about Jade herself and even her family. How will Jade handle the tumultuous events in the house hold? Will she and Tate be together forever, as promised? What role do the secrets play?
"I don't want you going near that girl, Tate." I felt my mother creep behind me in her silk robe as I watched Jade walking around her back yard, adorned in a white dress against the dark trees, casting even darker silhouettes on the ground.
"But - "
"No buts, Tate," my mother asserted, pointing a finger at me. "She's too pure. You will not bring Hell upon that house."