i'd dream about her too, if i could dream.

Name's Tate. Father of two three four three. Been dead since 1994. Trapped in the Murderhouse. Everyone think's I'm crazy, even my girlfriend Violet. I'm trying to change, but it's so damn hard when we're basically a psychopath. I like guns and birds. Not much to do when you've got forever to fuck around...

Tate & Violet | Tainted Love 

wilted-violet:

“I’m my own problem, Tate. You don’t have to worry about me.” She murmured, her lips tracing the hallow of his neck. “If I do something I regret, that’s my issue. You just worry about yourself.” Her hands crept up the back of his shirt, feeling his silky flesh. A shiver ran down her spine.

“No one’s touched me in a month. I need you. I want you. Please.” Her voice was desperate and pleading as she pulled away from him. She looked into his eyes, hers widening and looking like a sad puppy. “No, I don’t know how you are about this.” She whispered, hurt. She slumped away, shaking her head. “I-I thought you wanted me… I thought you wanted to be with me. I’m throwing myself at you, and yet you still turn me down!” Her voice became ragged, her cheeks turning bright pink. “I don’t get it.”

He broke. “I do want to be with you! More than anything—you know that!” He went to her, his hands cradling the back of her skull—his fingers getting lost in her deep, honey locks. She was making him go insane. Go, stay. Civil, fucktoy. I want you. I need you. Please. I beg, I beg. He didn’t understand. He searched her eyes but found no answers.

“There’s nothing to get,” Tate’s voice broke a little bit as it softened an octave. “There’s nothing to get…” He couldn’t stand it any longer. She was right—she was giving him what he wanted: her. Throwing herself onto a silver platter and having herself served up like a fine dish. Like a starving man, he couldn’t turn it away. He would die. He could go angry no more.

With a tight grip on his reins, he kissed her with only the slightest hint of hesitation from his lips. He wanted more, needed more. The rope snapped and he was free. Tate’s lips moved with a greedy desire that he’d had caged up for weeks now. The bars were rusting and he was ready to ravish the object of his affection.

curious-volume-of-forgotten-lore:

” You heard me. ” she stated simply but there was a darkness behind her a tone along with that of total and utter concern.

Emma didn’t pretend for a single moment that she understood the strange ‘gifts’ that the Howard family possessed but all she felt she really needed to know was that the matriarch no doubt harnessed a deep and seething hatred for Tate Langdon and any who may care for him. That placed not only the seemingly angelic devil of a mass murderer in danger but also that of his family whom he cared so much for. Violet, Harlow, Michael, Adam, Tara and Emma - all of them were very tangibly accessible.

While she doubted that the woman who helped her would have turned to murder as a way of taking something from Tate like he had taken from her by murdering someone who was still alive, like Emma - that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have set her other-worldly sights on those who no longer were.

He thought of a moment, putting it together, but still, nothing came. No memory of who he could’ve killed that was Billie Dean’s beau. It was possible if they’d actually attending the same school at that time, but Tate’s brain wasn’t allowing the consideration.

A hand went to his forehead, the heel rubbing and twisting against the skin. “Look, Emma, I think you’re just a little tired. Maybe you should just go back to sleep…”

Tate & Violet | Tainted Love 

wilted-violet:

“Yes, you are.” She mumbled, pulling away. He didn’t want her. That was obvious. It stung and she wanted to curl into a ball and sob like she had before he’d come in. He was a statue. Maybe this could benefit her though. Maybe it meant she needed to fight harder. That’s what she would do then. 

“Of course I want you.” She whispered, pushing her body against his. Her eyes peered into his, looking for some sign of weakness, some sign that she could break him. Her hands ran through his blond curls, they ran down his chest and over his lips. “You’re not convincing me. I don’t believe you.” She whispered his his ear, kissing it lightly.

“I don’t…” He tried but the words seemed to be clogging up in his chest. “I don’t want you to do something…you might regret…” He swallowed, his hand twitching towards her. Pulling back, he flinched at his break in concentration. He prayed she wouldn’t notice. Notice him start to shake, to eat red, to break a sweat.

“You know how I am about this, Vi,” he warned softly, speaking into the locks of her hair. The color of honey with the scent of blooming flowers in spring—he inhaled it deep, twitching towards her again.

Tate & Violet | Tainted Love 

wilted-violet:

Violet’s heart faltered a little. She didn’t want him to be this way. She wanted him to want and need her just as much as she wanted and needed him. “Why are you so cold and distant Tate..?” She whispered, her hand pulling his to her cheek. “I thought this is what you wanted.” The hurt was thick in her voice. 

Violet kissed his hand, then his wrist. His elbow, his shoulder, the hollow of his throat. Violet stopped at the corner of his lips, her own burning as she touched him. “I thought you wanted me.” Her voice was alluring but weak. She was fragile despite the strength she reserved to play this game with him. She didn’t know if this was some twisted game, the need she felt to make him want her. Maybe it was. 

His body tensed a little. “I’m not,” was all he could say as a memory of her voice replayed in his head. What I wanted was you, her mouth formed each word, each syllable perfectly enough to break his murderous rage. You, him. It had been him, him of all people in the world. …I…wanted…you…She wanted him. That was all he heard now.

Every muscle in his body sank into itself, making him tight as a statue. Tate clenched his jaw tight, only moving his lips as he spoke. His words came out with a breath, sounding as if he was struggling to keep himself there, still as stone. “I do—” his voice was cracked and choked. He couldn’t move. His brain wasn’t working. She did enjoy it. She wanted to use and abuse him. He didn’t know what to do. His wild eyes went to hers and asked what his mouth could not, “Do you?” 

Tate & Violet | Tainted Love 

wilted-violet:

She nodded, though she’d never let someone put rum in her daughters mouth. But Violet’s mind was far from the topic of Harlow’s teeth. She was conflicted. She wanted him to leave. She wanted him to turn around and fight for her. She wanted to never see him again. She wanted to rip his clothes off and ravish him on that very spot. 

That’s why Violet didn’t even think before she whispered no. “Stay with me.” She whispered faintly, her finger tips lightly trailing down his arm as she reached for him. She tenderly took his hand. “Not just yet Tate.” She managed to whisper. She was worried how he’d react. She was worried he’d throw insults at her, call her a mind fuck. Violet was dizzy. She couldn’ even believe herself. She’d just told him to leave, and yet now here she stood, begging him to stay.

“Chad can take care of Harlow for a few more minutes…”

His eyes narrowed and a brow raised, watching her closely. He must be bi-polar or something. Her switch had gone on and off like three times in not even five minutes. It was crazy. It wasn’t normal, not even for her.

But he couldn’t deny her. Not now, not ever. No matter what it did to him or how much it would hurt him in the end. “Sure, okay.” Tate tried to seem indifferent. The arm connected to the hand she was holding went numb—he couldn’t even feel her warmth on his. He felt trapped and cornered. She was a total and complete mindfuck, and he was sure she knew it. And liked it.

curious-volume-of-forgotten-lore:

” I think it may have something to do with, oh I don’t know - a family of psychics moving into the house? Come on, Tate! You weren’t shot in the head - think! ” she sounded a bit irate for only a handful of moments before steeling herself once more.

Her eyes studied his for the longest time before she regained herself enough to not seem so hysterical. Dreams she could handle, she felt they were normal enough just as he was trying to convince her of now. They could have been caused by a multitude of reason but the ones she had been having were violent and vivid. She could smell the blood in the air, hear the screams echoing in every corner of her mind. She had more to lose than they did but death was something that even a girl from a family constantly touched by it would fear.

” Look, mama still has your old yearbooks. Apparently this Billie Dean woman who helped me find mama went to Westfield. Her tennis reputation is all over that damn place but what I also found out is that you, my trigger-happy big brother, off’ed her boyfriend and the father of one of her children. Seems motive enough for me, don’t you think? “

Tate choked—must’ve been air since there was nothing else in his throat as he breathed in—and his chest violently convulsed for a few moments. Water welled up at his eyes and he could feel his face get red and hot. Confused, he banged against his torso. “Ah—um, I-I’m sorry, I did what?”

Not understanding, he tried searching his brain. The faces of the fifteen he shot and killed that day were a complete blur to him. He didn’t know them, not even their names. They were just at the wrong place at the right time for him. He never knew Billie Dean was in his class. Or that a consort of hers had attended there as well. No answers came, so he looked up at Emma for something, anything. He was so lost and confused, like a child.

Tate & Violet | Tainted Love 

wilted-violet:

As he took her hand, Violet’s lips parted sightly. Her eyes widened as she looked at their hands. Something was blocking her throat. She gulped, a little pained sigh escaping her lips. She hated the feelings she got just from coming in contact with him. The tingling sensation she felt all over where he had touched. It made her needy, impulsive. Her body became greedy and she needed more.

That’s why she had to pull away as fast as she could. His lips on her fingers made it so much worse. Violet was fragile from their breakup and she only had so much self control. She couldn’t risk it. Now she knew she was stupid for sitting so close to him. She brought it on herself. “Not us Tate. I don’t… I don’t mean us. I know for a fact there is no fixing that. Never. Even an eternity can’t heal the wounds you’ve left in me.”

She rose fast, getting off the bed and walking to the trap door that led out of the attic. Her back faced him, the hand that he’d touched curled in a tight fist over her heart. “You should go now Tate. Spend some time with Harlow maybe.” She breathed, her voice hoarse. “She’s- She probably needs you. She’s been so fussy with that tooth growing in… It hurts her…” Her eyes were squeezed shut as tightly as she could. She needed the subject to change, she needed to be alone so she could compose herself. She needed to talk to Braxton or Moira. She needed someone to tell her she could pull through. She needed to be reassured that she was making a good choice to stay away from him.

She broke him in a second.

In a single second, his hope was shattered. Torn down completely, having it’s crumbling base yanked out from underneath it, it sank to the ground without a hint of a fight. He let it fall, he didn’t have the strength to build it back up again. It was demolished. It was dead. It was over.

Cold rushed over him, freezing him, hardening him. He felt hurt and betrayed. Angry even. Left hanging alone when he’d gone out on a limb—just like always. Shot down. Bullets hitting every pressure point. Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless.

But he didn’t show it. Tate never faltered. It was all just a second long and he never let it leak beyond his flesh. Instead he forced a smile and a nod. “Momma used to use rum when we started teething. It always helped a ton. And since she’s dead she won’t get tipsy…”

He rose to his feet, scratching the back of his head as he neared the door. But he couldn’t cross the threshold. Like a wall was stopping him, he had no choice but to turn around to her. “You sure you want me to go?” Hurt yet, he still neared the limb, readying himself to fall…

curious-volume-of-forgotten-lore:

Emma had turned a corner so suddenly and had been running so fast that she nearly collided right into him. Her breath came in quick and seemingly panicked gasps past her slightly parted tiers but it was unclear if it was due to the fact that she had been running or from whatever happened to send her into this frenzy. Now, the cornsilk blonde with the sharp tongue was hardly the sort to become easily excited and especially not easily frightened and yet whatever she had seen or was feeling must have been deeply disturbing to merit this sort of response. Drawing in several deep breaths in an attempt to regain herself she was just about to speak when a disbelieving and somewhat comical frown furrowed across her fine brows.

” Did I - wait, what the fuck? No! No, I didn’t - just, listen! ” she would quickly sputter out.

She knew that she wasn’t going to get anywhere if she didn’t calm down but it wasn’t just this single dream that had her heart and her mind racing so fast. It was the continuity of the sort of things she had been dreaming of and the worst part was that even when she wasn’t sleeping there were foreboding images claiming her mind for their own. Lightly she grasped both his hands in a further attempt to make him understand that what she was going to reveal to him was very serious.

” Tate… Something bad is going to happen. I’ve been having these dreams but they don’t feel like dreams, not anymore. They’re almost like, I don’t know - visions. The elements are always the same; you, Violet, Tara, mom… even Michael and Harlow. Mutilated, unmoving but not like seeing how you all died. ” she seemed to somewhat trail off as if the very thought troubled her.

” Ghosts can feel pain, some maybe even more subjected to it as penance for past sins. But… I think something is going to happen to one of you, all of you maybe - or me. “

Her sapphire hues gazed deeply up into his darker amber pools while hers were filled with something new to even her - fear.

Tate furrowed his brow, watching his sister freak before his eyes. He wasn’t used to this; someone flipping their shit over something as silly as a dream. Then again, he hadn’t had a dream in almost eighteen years, so he could’ve forgotten what they felt like, how real and consuming they could be.

Even then, he probably still wouldn’t be going as apeshit as Emma.

Nodding, he took her by the shoulders and led her to a couch, sitting her down across from him. Softly he hushed her, nodding with every word she said. “Okay, okay. Um. Okay. Death dreams are…normal, I guess? I mean, look where you are,” he chuckled slightly. “You’re in the goddamn Murderhouse.”

Clearing his throat, he hardened his exterior. Emma obviously didn’t think this was a lighthearted matter. “So, uh…what do you think is gonna happen? What could happen to us? I mean…we’re dead—except you, of course.”

//D’aw :3 Thank you, love!

I’m just waiting for you to replyyyy <3 :D

Tate & Violet | Tainted Love 

wilted-violet:

She grinned, the conversation peaceful. She’d missed this. Talking to someone. Not for any reason. No ulterior motives. It was just to talk and to enjoy someones company. Maybe having Tate there, next to her on her bed, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“I think your theory’s as close as we can get to the truth.” She said, softly smiling at him. She watched his eyes trace the ceiling, thankful they weren’t on her. She didn’t want him to see the way she looked at him. He didn’t need to see the sincere warmth in her eyes and smile that he’d caused. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them. “Yolo.” She laughed, thinking about the overused bullshit saying that Gabe and Leah threw around too often. “Translation: You only live once. It’s so stupid and overused. But.. I guess it’s true. Not in our case though.”

Violet bit her lip, playing with her thumbs. “Do you think we’ll ever get another crack at things Tate? A chance to actually… Not fuck up for once? I mean, there has to be… There can’t just be this. We can’t just be alone and unhappy forever. So far, everything in my life has turned to shit. That’s all I’m good for. The only good thing I’ve done is created Harlow. But… Is that it?”

He shrugged, squinting at the plaster-white sky above him. “Maybe. But is that really it, though? No big secret or mind blowing answer at the end? Just a big fat fucking nothing? That makes it all seem so…not worth it, y’know?” Turning his head, he glanced up at her, his own mind making himself curious. “Like, what’s the point then? I mean…to learn, to love, to grow, to see, to experience, yeah…but without a finish line and prize at the end, we’re all just…running robotically down an endless path of just bullshit.”

Tate exhaled, blinking his eyes. “We don’t count, though.” He grinned, nudging her knee. “We’re living only half alive. And we’re not even alive, yet we still exist. That puts a hole through everything! What if this is the only afterlife? Nothing beyond here? Everyone has their reasons for being “left behind” but…” His eyes full of questioning wonder looked deep into hers. “But what’s ours? Why us, why here?”

Hit out of nowhere, Tate swallowed so hard it pulled down the corner of his lips, pursing them. He nervously ran his tongue along them. Words and thoughts were getting caught in his throat, in a net in his mind. “Vi…” He had to lay it out. No lying, nothing. “We always will, so long as we both continue to exist. On and off, off and on…but somewhere in all that bullshit, there’ll be the last time. And it’ll be perfect and it’ll last until we fade away into…fucking whatever comes after this. Like I said, it’s you and me. Together for always.” Keeping his eyes on her, he grabbed her hand. “You’re good for all the gold in the world, Vi. Worth more than every treasure hidden in this shitfest.”

A hand went to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it gently. “I’m technically in my fucking thirties, but I’m still only seventeen. I’m a fuck up, you’re a fuck up and we’re both a fucked up match. Things will always go wrong—look at us. What and where we are. We just have to learn to make it work. To deal with all the shit. Even if it takes forever.” Aware again that he was holding her hand, he squeezed it and brought it to his lips, brushing them against the top skin as he smiled devilishly. “We’ve got that long anyways.”

//Using “us” means that you’re in this group, and yet you’re on anon. Why?

And I just got over what I’ve been going through and Misha’s been helping me, plus she already had that para planned. I’m still trying to get back into this shit, so calm your tits. It takes time. I’m trying. Our little group left and has since expanded and I don’t know any of these new people and while I may seem abrasive and what some would consider intimidating, I’m shy and really don’t like new people at first. So there’s that.

In the mean time, why not come off anon and plan something with Tate? He’s got a whole lot of nothing goin’ on right now. I’d love to get to know all the new people.

//Back.