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brutallycarnage · 7 months ago

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Tate Langdon x Reader

Payphone Memories (Episode 1)

TW: Gun violence, gore, Tate Langdon is a warning himself

Pair: Tate Langdon x Reader

Prologue

The payphone is where I remember spending a large portion of my high school career. It was separated from most of the school, off in a hallway that led to a dead end. In fact, there were two payphones. It was a big fancy L.A school after all. The more popular payphone was near the cafeteria. Of course, this one had its fair share of use.. But, during classes, nobody really showed up around here. Which made it prime for hiding from classes. Tate and I spent a lot of time on this payphone. His mother didn’t work so it was typical of her to use up all their hours on their personal line at Tate’s house. At mine, however, we didn’t exactly have the money to make phone calls all willy-nilly. We really liked to make prank calls. Nobody was safe, and we especially loved to mess with his mothers boyfriend, Larry. Sometimes, I feel myself really missing those times. Leaning against the tiles of the wall, cold to the touch. Tate, his beautiful eyes - the way they crinkled up and shined in the light when he laughed. The dimples of his cheeks, sitting in his room at night, blasting Nirvana or Blondie. Man, Tate hated listening to Blondie. He owned it on cassette for me though. That’s what worked about Tate and I; our abilities to adapt for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Nirvana! I’m just a sucker for punk music. As time went on though, we began to fight more. Tate got involved with some bad habits, so I tried to get him help. He didn’t want it though, he didn’t think anything was wrong. Eventually, he ended up just.. Snapping, at some point or another. I never wanted to break up with Tate Langdon, but after he changed from the sweet, innocent boy I grew up with, it wasn’t healthy for either of us to continue seeing each other. He grew more angrier, more hateful by the day. Of course, that was an effect of his addiction. He didn’t think I noticed the way his nose always ran now, and the rapid weight loss he exhibited. In part, I could understand why. His little sister Rose died from complications to her autoimmune disease a few years prior, and so did his little brother Bo. But obviously, it wasn’t an excuse for the way he treated me. Every little thing I did set him off. He screamed at me once for breathing too loudly. I try to push the fonder memories forward, like the time I caught him listening to Heart of Glass when I showed up to surprise him one evening. I never let him live it down.

Present Day

(Third Person)

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. Vivienne turned around to glance at the landline on the wall. The ringing interrupted her fruitful efforts to get the kitchen clean. ‘Strange’ She thought to herself. ‘We never paid for a landline. Maybe Ben did without telling me? I know Violet’s into all that nostalgic stuff.’ Vivienne’s hand meets with the cool sage green plastic. She pulls it off of the receiver, and holds the phone to her ear. “Hello..?” Vivienne says with confusion. “Oh, uh, hi! Sorry, I was sort of expecting someone else.” A soft voice spoke up over the phone, one of female origin. Vivienne assumed it may have been one of Violet’s school friends or Ben’s patients. She sounded quite young. The phone tone distorted her voice, making it sound crackly. “Oh, no worries sweetie! Who are you trying to reach? I can take a message.” Vivienne said, leaning against the wall. “Oh uh, an old friend used to live here. I was just calling to talk. Are you the new owners of their house?” “Uh, Yes! We just moved in a little while ago. Are you in the neighborhood? I think I have a daughter in your age range.” “You could say that. My parents are pretty strict, so I’m not allowed out of the house very often.” “Well, if you ever need a friend, my daughter Violet I’m sure would be happy to hang out with you!” “Thank you miss..?” “Call me Viv, Viv Harmon. And you?” “Y/N.” “Well, Y/N, it’s nice to informally meet you. I have to go now, but don’t be a stranger. Bye bye!” “Bye.” Click. Ben enters the kitchen, admiring his wife and the now clean counters and appliances. “Hey Viv, who were you talking to?” Ben says, wrapping his arms around Vivienne and looking over her shoulder to watch her wash the dishes. Vivienne gestures over to the landline, still paying attention to the dishes in the sink. “Oh, a girl from the neighborhood called. She was curious about who had moved in.” “Uh, the landline.. Works? Did you get it set up?” Vivienne turns around quickly, confused. “Uh, no. I thought you did? Yeah, she called it.” Ben walked over to the landline, pulling the phone off the receiver and test dialing on the keypads. Nothing. The line didn’t work. “Viv.. Are you.. Sure?” And thus, another argument broke out between the oldest members of the Harmon family.

Y/N leans against the cool tile once more, letting the phone hang off the receiver, listening to the ringing. She was desperate for some sort of mental stimulation that wasn’t the sealed-off school hall she currently sat in. Of course, it wasn’t actually 1994 anymore. Those memories she recalled have been rehearsed and repeated in her head for 17 years now, she wasn’t even sure if they were right at this point. Was Tate who she remembered him to be? Had he been that awful all along? Was she clinging onto something good to keep up hope? She wasn’t entirely convinced. Had she even ever existed at all? She hated when she felt like this. One more time, one more time she’d go over what happened. Then she’d stop, but she needed to do it one more time, just to make sure she still remembered all the details. Gunshot blasts, the smell of blood, Tate.. No.. No.. Tate, then gunshot blasts. Or was it blood first? She felt hopelessly lost as she anxiously picked at her blood caked cuticles. She inhaled, trying to calm herself. Tate.. Gunshots.. Blood.. Yeah, that feels right.

Trigger Warning: Gun Violence (will not impact the story if you skip it! Please keep yourself safe <3)

Y/N opens her eyes, she feels her heart hammer in her chest. She’s desperately loading change into the payphone, poking at the buttons. 9..1…1.. She feels a little bit of relief as the phone rings and picks up almost immediately. “911, what’s your emergency?” A feminine voice rumbles in her ear. Y/N keeps a hushed voice, eyes glued on the only entrance way into the hall. “Someone’s shooting in my school. We need the police-” The doors swing open. Tate. No, no.. Please, let him be okay. Why did he have blood on him? Did he get hurt?

Trigger Warning over!

Y/N feels a pair of hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently. A concerned looking Stephanie Boggs was greeting her gaze. “Hey, you okay? You were just.. Standing here?” Stephanie says, tilting her head. “Yeah.. Yeah.. It’s just.. The flashbacks are happening again. I called again, Steph. I don’t know why I did. Someone else lives in the house now.” She stammers, leaning into Stephanie’s firm hold. Stephanie kept her mouth shut. She didn’t know Tate before the massacre, she knew it was hard to deal with just dealing with being murdered in general. She couldn’t imagine it being someone she loved. Stephanie took a moment to take in her friend's appearance. Y/N had three visible gunshot wounds. The first being on the left side of her chest, second in her neck and third splitting open the side of her jawline. Her s/c was stained with dry blood, along with the ends of her h/c hair. “Everything is starting to get to me again. I thought I was okay with all of this now.” Y/N waved her arm in reference to the payphone, avoiding eye contact with Stephanie. “You always get antsy like this near halloween. Doesn’t help that you’re tethered to this fuck-ass phone 364 days out of the year. Just think, 4 more days and we can go do something fun during the day. Maybe this year is the year Langdon decides to speak up when we confront him. Closure, or whatever.” Stephanie tried distracting her, unsure if it was working. Y/N shook her head in a ‘no’ motion, “This is different, Steph. Something is going to happen. I haven’t felt this pull in a decade.” Stephanie frowned in response, letting go of Y/N and walking down the hall towards the exit. And just like that, alone again. Y/N remembers the first year the massacre had occurred. People she didn’t know stopped by a lot and left flowers and small trinkets as offerings. Each student that year got a vigil where they passed away on their birthdays. It was nice not to be alone. To see some life in these dark hallways. Of course, as the years went on, nobody visited much anymore. Just the occasional odd teenager looking to ghost hunt or write a history report. There was a plaque with her name on it next to the payphone now. With the rise of technology, she supposed there was no use for the payphone anymore anyways. She figured with the time she had to think until Halloween, she’d plan out what she’d say to Tate on Halloween.

A/N: Howdy! This is my first ever fic! I will be making the chapters longer as I get more practice. But I hope you liked it!

#tate langdon #american horror story #murder house #violet harmon #tate langdon x reader #dead dove do not eat

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