I just had this idea and was wondering if I could request it to you in the form of a fic / oneshot
Goes like this: reader (female) is also a patient in the briarcliff asylum and has some sort of rivalry with kit walker, pretty much one-sided in fact. And she frames him for something just to get him in trouble, and of course sister jude makes her watch kit being caned for it. But the thing is that she thought she would feel good seeing her "rival" suffering, and thought that he would retaliate on her for it later, but when she truly sees his pain and how he still did not hold any revengeful feelings towards her about it, she finally understands that kit walker is not a rival of hers at all.
Anyway, tysm. I hope you can accept this.
Hello angel! Thank you so so much for this request! I must say, I really love this idea. I hope you will like it babes ^^
El <3
Kit Walker- reflections
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
FEM reader
<3 (SFW)
TW- sad-comfort, mentions of punishing (HAPPY END)
Kit Walker
RIVALS! at first (wait till the end :3 )
Sister Jude mentioned
Kit Walker
The white walls of Briarcliff Asylum loom above you, cold and oppressive, as they echo the whispered secrets of its inhabitants.
The air is thick with the scent of disinfectant and the ever-present stench of fear. You pace your small, sterile cell, a sense of unease coursing through you.
Outside, the oppressive quiet of Briarcliff is broken only by the occasional murmur of orderlies or the distant wail of a patient—unrestrained, desperate.
Your thoughts often drift to him—Kit Walker. He occupies your thoughts even when you wish he wouldn’t. Kit, with his tousled hair and penetrating brown eyes, both a source of intrigue and your greatest annoyance.
You had always been rivals, in a way: he was the golden boy, the misunderstood’s hero, while you were the comparatively placid girl seeking solace in the asylum’s walls. But lately, the rivalry had taken a dark turn.
“I swear, they’ll believe anything I tell them...”
You had muttered to yourself, an idea forming that twisted with every pulse of your heart. The day you decided to frame Kit felt electric. He rarely fought back under Sister Jude’s reign—a marked flaw in your eyes—and you couldn’t resist the chance to see him writhing a little in the painful light of her attention.
You felt smug; this time, you would be the victor.
Later that evening, the dim lights of the hallway flickered ominously as you smiled inwardly at your plan’s fruition.
You watched from the shadows as Sister Jude entered the common room, her dark habit a shadow that brought dread. She swept her gaze across the room, finally honing in on Kit, who sat isolated, a look of solemn determination on his face.
Sister Jude seemed terribly angry- somebody stole medicine earlier and she was trying to find who to blame. Her eyes were red with fury.
You watched the scene unfold, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction as you moved forward.
“Kit Walker,”
you called out, feigning innocence,
“isn’t it true that you were near the storage room when the medicine went missing?”
Sister Jude’s eyes glinted with interest. Kit looked up, confusion and then shock flitting across his features.
“I didn’t—”
“Silence! You! Behind me, now!”
Sister Jude bellowed, slicing through his protest. The room shrank in the wake of her command, and with finality, she motioned Kit to follow her towards the punishment room.
Your heart raced with adrenaline as you felt the weight of your deception settle in.
You thought you would relish in his suffering, but as Kit was led away, the sudden clarity of his confusion and hurt twisted your stomach into knots. You had crossed a line that you couldn’t uncross.
You simply looked away as you heard loud slaps and Kit yelping. The happy feeling of framing your enemy didn't last long. Not as long as Kit's cries.
Time felt fluid as you paced back and forth in your room, waiting for Sister Jude to bring Kit back, anxious and guilty.
When he finally returned hours later, it was on an isolated noise—a sound that was dissimilar to the din of the asylum. It was a haunting silence, the kind that wrapped you like a shroud.
The aftermath was far worse than you anticipated. You could see the marks left on him—the limp walk and bruising even on his face, the hollow look in his eyes.
You expected to feel triumphant, but in that moment, you could only see pain. Kit didn’t look at you with hatred; he didn’t give you that satisfaction. Instead, he wore an expression of bewilderment—confused and scarred, yet still undeniably strong.
Weakness washed over you. You had wanted revenge, but the guilt unfurled like shadows.
The reality hit you like a cold slap—this person you had tormented, you now recognized as not just your rival, but an innocent soul caught up in the chaos of Briarcliff’s existence.
“What have I done?”
You whispered to yourself, feeling your heartache as you approached him.
“Kit?”
He flinched at the sound of your voice, a minute ripple of tension in his body.
“What do you want?”
He replied, his tone flat. He wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fixed somewhere far away.
“I—I'm sorry-”
You stammered, your resolve shaking.
“I thought—it was just a.... I didn’t understand.”
“Just a what? A game?”
He exclaimed bitterly, finally meeting your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, you saw the fire of his anger flare before dimming into something deeper. The hurt that transcended rage swept across his expression.
“You’ve no idea what it was like—the pain. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
You stepped closer, your heart racing for different reasons now.
“I know. I misunderstood. I thought-”
“Thought what?”
He interrupted, bitterness twisting his voice.
“That hurting someone would make you feel better? That I deserved this?”
“No... of course not I just, uh-"
You said, pain clouding your voice.
“I thought I was hurting my ‘rival.’ I didn’t see you. I couldn’t understand. I’m so sorry.”
Kit’s anguish slowly melted away, and in its place, a muted understanding began to take root. He remained silent for a long time- thinking how he was kind of an asshole to you, and you fought to keep your gaze steady.
Finally, Kit sighed, emotion thick in the air between the two of you.
“You thought I was your rival?”
He said softly,
"But I never saw you that way. You were just…someone I recognized among the madness.”
The cloak of misunderstanding began to lift, revealing the fragility of your shared experience. Slowly, you inched closer until you sat at his feet, lowering your head until it rested on his knee.
“Let me help you, Kit. Please.”
You murmured, the lump in your throat tight.
He remained still for a moment before his hand found its place atop your head, a gesture so gentle that it shattered the last remnants of the barrier between you.
“It’s hard to forgive,” he admitted softly, “but I see you now, too.”
As he lifted your chin to meet his gaze, the understanding washed over you both—a fragile connection, mending the wounds that had opened between you.
There, amidst the darkness of Briarcliff, what had once been a rivalry transformed into something resembling hope. Together, you sat in shared silence, understanding threading its way into the very fabric of your entangled lives.
In the heart of despair, you found an ally in Kit, a companion forged through the anonymity of suffering.
And as you leaned into him, seeking comfort and mutual understanding, you realized that the chains of your misinterpretations had slowly begun to fall away. Instead of rivals, you were nothing less than wounded souls seeking solace amidst the madness. Together, the redemption had begun.
Phew, i think this might be the longest fanfic I ever did! I really liked this one (at the end where bby is better). I guess I'm a sucker for hurt-comfort!
Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!
This reaction is for season 11, third episode "Smoke Signals" which originally aired on October 26, 2022. The episode was written by Brad Falchuk and Manny Coto and directed by John J. Gray. Spoilers ahead!
SMOKE SIGNALS ...
Last week we got two killer episodes of American Horror Story: NYC and I'm still feeling pretty good about the direction of this season. Adam and Gino continue to be my favorite characters thus far, but Russell Tovey's Patrick is starting to grow on me as well. Before I launch into my reaction to episode number three, I must say, I was initially skeptical about most of this cast being newcomers to American Horror Stories. All those doubts are officially gone because Charlie Carver, Joe Mantello, and Russell Tovey are definitely holding their own acting alongside AHS vets like Leslie Grossman, Denis O'Hare, and Billie Lourd.
Okay, let's talk about the episode. We start off with Fran (Sandra Bernhard) and Dr. Hannah Wells (Billie Lourd) at a diner after the latter's run-in with Big Daddy in Central Park. At the end of last episode, Fran told Hannah the government is responsible for the virus she is currently studying. She further elaborates by mentioning something called Operation Paperclip. Apparently, back in the 1952, the United States used Nazi scientists to create new viruses made from both human and animal diseases to use against the Russians during the Red Scare. They did manage to come up with a good virus but it was too big to be airborne. However, it could be transmitted via mucous membranes.
Naturally, Hannah pushes back against this and asks Fran why the government would wait nearly thirty years later to release the virus. Fran tells her that the Cold War is heating up, so the United States is bringing back the virus that was created back in 1952 and testing it out on people who are considered undesirable, i.e., drug addicts, homeless people, and prisoners. They also used ticks to help transmit the virus but the virus broke free of the island and it's now starting to spread amongst the gay population in New York City. Hannah asks Fran what she's supposed to do with this information. Fran tells Hannah that she believes some of her patients are infected with the virus and she should go to the press about it. Hannah tells Fran that in order to do that she will need proof. Fran tells her she needs to think of something and think of something fast because the government is on to her.
Meanwhile, Stewart (Taylor Bloom) escapes the cage he is being imprisoned in and flees Sam's apartment. It should be noted that when Stewart heads out into the hallway, Big Daddy is standing sentry by Sam's apartment door. Stewart acknowledges Big Daddy's presence, and my theory is that we know Sam has the same virus that several of Dr. Hannah Wells' patients have and if he hooked up with Stewart, chances are he passed on the virus to Stewart. I believe Big Daddy is a manifestation of the virus that will become known as AIDS and those who have the disease are able to see Big Daddy while those who don't have the virus can't see him.
Stewart goes to the police station and Patrick takes his story. Stewart tells Patrick that he answered a payphone outside of a leather bar which is how he ended up at Sam's apartment. Patrick is a wee bit judgmental, but he does go to Sam's apartment to investigate. Sam (Zachary Quinto) is having a party and when confronted by Patrick, they head down to his basement where his sex dungeon is kept. Sam knows that he can't be arrested because according to him, what transpired between him and Stewart was consensual. Patrick insists that something unsavory did take place and he tells Sam that Stewart is worried about his reputation. Sam throws this back in Patrick's face and strongly insinuates that he is well aware of Patrick's own vices and how they could affect his reputation. Patrick backs off because he doesn't want to risk getting outed at work.
Patrick talks to Gino about his encounter with Sam and Gino speculates that perhaps Sam is the one who held him prisoner. Patrick assures Gino that Sam is not the guy. Gino shows Patrick a sketch of the man he believes abducted him but Patrick seems unconvinced. Gino justifiably gets frustrated because he believes this is Patrick yet again not wanting to lead the charge towards finding the person responsible for recent rash of murders. Gino also is having a difficult time trusting Patrick because Patrick lied about his leather fetish. Patrick admits to liking leather bars and tells Gino he used to go to leather bars before they got together. These two could benefit from some couple's counseling. Patrick needs to be more open about what he's thinking and feeling and as much as I love Gino, he needs to be a little less judgmental. It's the classic case of someone having to come to terms with their sexuality early on and not allowing others to have their own journey towards self-discovery. Gino tells Patrick that he should check out the payphone outside the leather bar but Patrick reminds him he's not a private detective and therefore he has to have cause for doing such things and he doesn't think he can rationalize to his coworkers why he needs to stake out a payphone. Gino, in order to motivate Patrick, appeals to his desire to be dangerous and reckless which surprisingly works because the next scene we get is Patrick standing next to the payphone.
Patrick continues to wait by the payphone for what feels like hours until he gets a phone call from Whitley (Jeff Hiller). Whitley gives Patrick an address to go to and Patrick is led to an underground party. We see Hans (Casey Thomas Brown) giving a performance. Patrick wanders further into the venue and heads into a darkened passageway. He sees an unmasked patron (played by Zach Meiser) wearing the same kind of leather gear that Daddy wears. This is clearly not Big Daddy because even though this guy is quite muscular, he is not hulking like Big Daddy. Patrick aggressively confronts the bespectacled man and finds a switchblade on him. Rather than further interrogate him in regard to all recent murders, Patrick starts kissing him. He then turns the guy against a wall and uses a cat-o-nine tails to beat him. I believe this scene is here to show us just how deep Patrick's leather kink runs. It's important to point out that it does appear that his behavior is consensual.
We then see the performer Hans heading into a very empty subway. He sees an older, unkempt, heavyset woman standing on the other side of the platform and for some reason he decides to follow her.
Over at the Native, Adam asks Gino if he knows why his captor let him go instead of killing him. Gino tells Adam that the guy saw his United States Marine Corps tattoo on his chest and then thanked him for his service. He then shows Adam the drawing he had made of what the guy looks like. Adam speculates that there are two killers - the guy who abducted Gino and Big Daddy. Adam tells Gino he has a date at a bar and Gino tells him to be careful, especially if he's going around inquiring about the Mai Tai killer. Gino doesn't want Adam to become the next victim. He then asks Adam who he's seeing, and Adam tells him it's Theo. Gino tells him that he's heard some pretty dark stuff about Theo's partner, Sam.
Gino goes to The Ditch and talks with Alana (Rebecca Dayan) who is busy cleaning blood off the sidewalk outside the bar. He shows her the drawing of the man who abducted him, and she confirms that he's been at the bar. She mentions that when she encountered him, he had a dark aura about him. She suggests that maybe he was in Vietnam. Gino tells her that he needs to be captured and begs her to let him put some flyers up in the bar. Alana does acquiesce and she tells him that if he's going to hang up flyers, to be careful not to tear the paint off the walls.
Adam arrives at another local bar called Ascension and is greeted by the hostess, Dunaway (Sis). She tells him it's a member's only establishment, but Adam tells her that he's with Theo Graves (Isaac Powell) and she immediately ushers him inside. Adam asks if he can put up some flyers, and Dunaway tells him 'no'. He asks her if she's heard of Big Daddy, and she answers back that she hasn't but if he ever finds him to send him her way. I love Dunaway! I hope we get more of her this season!
Theo arrives at Ascension and Dunaway takes him to Adam. We do see Big Daddy standing behind Theo in the doorway but neither Dunaway nor Theo acknowledges his presence. There is some flirtatious banter between Adam and Theo. Adam is quite taken by Theo and the feeling seems mutual even though Theo is currently in a relationship with Sam. Adam shows Theo the drawing of the man who abducted Gino. Meanwhile, Gino is at the Brownstone talking to Henry (Denis O'Hare), showing him the same drawing.
Henry recognizes the man in Gino's drawing and tells Gino that he was at the Brownstone the night before. Gino asks him why he didn't call the police and Henry insinuates that the police wouldn't have been much of a help. I loved Henry's story about how he ran away from home at age 13 and ended up in New York City. He talks about how he was nearly murdered three times and how he's lost so many friends, acquaintances, and lovers over the years to violence. He tells Gino that if he had tried to figure out what happened to each of those men, he would've ended up dead himself. I find this story so important because people like Gino tend to see inaction as laziness. For men like Henry, inaction, not getting involved, is a matter of survival.
Gino tells Henry that the last night they spoke, he ended up being drugged, kidnapped, and tortured, but Henry remains unphased by his story. Gino gives up and leaves the bar. Meanwhile, back at their apartment, Patrick goes into his closet and puts on his leather gear. it should be noted in this scene, while Patrick is flexing in front of the mirror, he notices some sores on his shoulder.
Back at Ascension, Adam interrogates Theo about Sam and Big Daddy. Theo assures Adam that Big Daddy is dead. While the two of them continue to talk, a man in leather gear, who looks a lot like Big Daddy, locks the main doors preventing anyone inside from getting out. What follows is an exciting sequence where Adam is given a Mai Tai by an unknown patron at the bar. He looks up and sees that the guy at the bar is the same man in Gino's drawing. At the same time, Dunaway discovers they are locked in and while Adam tries to go after Whitley, Theo manages to kick open the front door. At that moment, the man in leather gear tosses a Molotov cocktail inside the bar setting the whole place ablaze. The man then adjusts the chains and locks on the door and walks off leaving those inside to burn to death.
Hannah meets with an official at the local hospital and her request to draw blood from patients exhibiting signs of the virus she's been studying are denied. As she is leaving the hospital, she sees several patients arrive from Ascension. Hearing that the patients are coming from a gay bar, Hannah springs into action.
Adam and Theo manage to escape from the inferno with minimal injury. Adam suffers from smoke inhalation while Theo has some burns on his extremities. Other patrons like Dunaway, aren't so fortunate. I felt so bad for Dunaway who appeared to have third degree burns all over her body. When a nurse tries to check out Adam who is suffering from respiratory distress, he starts to freak out. After he is restrained, he begs Theo to call Gino.
Theo calls Gino, and Gino shows up with Patrick in tow. Adam tells Gino that the Mai Tai Killer was at the same bar he and Theo were at before the fire and tells him that he needs to find him. Gino shows a nurse the drawing of Whitley and she tells him that she saw him in one of the triage rooms. When Gino and Patrick arrive at the room, they discover that Whitley is gone. Gino suggests that he and Patrick split up so they can find him.
Hannah talks with Dunaway who tells her that she saw the man who started the fire and that he is not only coming for the gay men, but he’s also coming for everyone. This piece of dialogue stood out to me because it further confirmed my theory about Big Daddy being a manifestation of the AIDS virus which has yet to be named.
The biggest twist of the episode came when Hannah went to see Adam and we learn that they already know each other. We don't get much insight into their relationship, but Adam tells her that he feels good about what he and Hannah did. Now that I know that these two characters have a history, it sort of changes how I feel about Adam. He knows more than he's letting on but a part of me still believes that he is the good guy and whatever he and Hannah are working on is something good.
Hannah goes to Whitley's room and draws a sample of his blood. Whitely is paranoid and immediately leaves. He heads out the front door and is confronted by Gino. Whitely pushes Gino down and runs back into the hospital. Without waiting for Patrick, Gino pursues him and is led to the morgue. Gino is subdued by Whitley and locked inside one of the freezer drawers. What is it with American Horror Story and burying people alive? We saw it with Madame LaLaurie and Misty Day in "Coven" and then we saw that poor couple in "Cult" get locked inside twin coffins. The episode ends with Gino screaming and begging to be let out while Whitley gets away.
At this point, I'm sitting on the edge of my seat waiting to see what happens next. Thankfully, I don't have to wait long because while I find it odd that FX is releasing episodes of American Horror Story two at a time, I'm also grateful because there's no way I could have waited an entire week to see if whether or not Gino would be okay.
This episode, like our first two episodes, was pretty amazing. I love the dark tone of this season and I can't say this enough - I'm so happy they chose to go super grounded this season rather than venture into the over-the-top campiness that has been prevalent in the last several seasons of the show. Adam and Gino continue to be my favorite characters, but Hannah and Theo are not too far behind them. The verdict is still out on Patrick and as far as I'm concerned, Sam can go. He's nasty and vile and I don't think he's going to make it out of this season alive. Our OGs - Leslie Grossman, Denis O'Hare, Patti LuPone - aren't given much to do thus far and perhaps that's by design. For the longest time Jessica Lange, Sarah Paulson, Lily Rabe, and Evan Peters were the faces of this series and they've gone on to do other projects for Ryan Murphy. New blood (no pun intended) is exactly what this series needed, and we are getting it in spades with top notch performances from Charlie Carver, Joe Mantello, Russell Tovey, and Isaac Powell. After episode four we will officially be halfway through this season. I am still feeling pretty confident about where this season is headed. Stay tuned for my reaction to episode four. Until next time ...
Could you do a Tate x Male reader fic. Where the reader is like super alternative (gothhhh). And Tate and him somehow became best friends and the reader’s just giving him a make over, maybe some kissing near the end?
Hello sweetie! Thank you so so much for a request! Also I'm so biased, goths are one of the most amazing groups of people :O So let's give Tate a makeover!
El <3
Tate Langdon- baby bat
*ੈ𑁍༘⋆
MALE reader
<3 (SFW)
TW!- none
Tate and reader are besties :3
Tate gets a goth makeover!!
Tate Langdon
(Tate is purple in this fic so lines don't get mixed up <3)
The sun began to set behind the dilapidated dark house, casting shadows that danced across the wooden floorboards of Tate Langdon's bedroom.
The room, with its peeling walls and vintage horror posters, was a sanctuary for two misfits: you and Tate. It always had felt more like a refuge from a mundane world that never understood you both.
You flopped onto the worn-out beanbag chair while Tate sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with a dark gray hoodie that clung to his slender frame. There was a distinct gloominess about him that you had grown accustomed to; his brooding demeanor was an alluring kind of darkness, fitting with your own dark colored alternative style.
You took pride in your appearance: today's makeup was a mix of deep purples and blacks that enhanced your pale complexion, your eyes lined with sparkly eyeliner that caught the last rays of sunlight filtering through the dusty windows.
“You know, you’re way too invested in this."
He mumbled, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you set up your makeup products across the floor.
“Just trust me, Tate. You’re going to love it.”
You laughed, a soft, playful sound that filled the otherwise silent room. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as you pulled out your arsenal of lipsticks, eyeshadows, and brushes.
“Makeovers and all that- it's not really my thing, you know.”
He pouted, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair, which fell just above those hauntingly beautiful eyes.
“Doesn't matter. You’re going to look hot. Plus, it'll be fun.”
You said, your voice dripping with enthusiasm as you leaned closer. The scent of his cologne mingled with the stale aroma of the old house, grounding you in this moment.
With an exaggerated sigh, Tate finally relented, rolling his eyes in that endearing way that made your heart race.
“Fine. But if I don't like it, you owe me.”
You immersed yourself in the task, gliding a foundation brush across his pale skin, trying to hide the scattered freckles that dotted his face like constellations. You teased him about being a vampire, given the way light seemed to avoid him.
“See? You look great already.”
You said, trying to lighten the mood as you started on his eyes with a dark, smoky shadow.
Tate looked skeptical, inspecting his reflection in the mirror.
“I feel like I'm about to perform some dark ritual or something.”
He chuckled, but the sound was more serious than light-hearted.
“Trust me! You’re just channeling your inner goth prince!”
You quipped, adding a dab of silver to accentuate the darkness surrounding his dark brown eyes. As you pinched his cheeks for a light blush, he swatted your hands away, gently, but a smile crept onto his lips.
“Okay, okay! Maybe it’s not so bad.”
He muttered, pretending to focus on anything but you. You loved how he always softened for you, gradually letting down the walls he built against the world.
As the makeover progressed, you smeared a dark eye pencil over his lids, stepping back to admire your handiwork. He caught your gaze in the reflection of the mirror- confused, bold, and distinctly… Tate.
“I look like a hot mess.”
He teased.
You smirked, leaning closer, whispering conspiratorially.
“Tell me you don’t love it!”
Right then, he turned his head to meet your eyes, a flicker of something deeper passing between you. You could suddenly feel the air thicken with tension. Without hesitation, you absentmindedly brushed a hair from his face, lingering just a moment too long. It felt right.
“Yeah, I don’t love it.”
He replied, lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite match his words,
“I love you.”
His tone was playful yet serious, sending a jolt through your heart.
You felt warmth rush to your cheeks.
"What?"
You managed to get out, the sudden vulnerability making your heart stumble.
“Maybe I meant it, maybe I don't.”
He said quietly, the smile fading into something more earnest. But before you could respond, he leaned forward, brushing his lips against yours, barely a whisper of a kiss that sent shockwaves through your body.
It was surreal. In that electrifying moment, the glossy red of your lipstick stained his lips and mingled with the taste of something more profound- a thousand unspoken confessions laid bare in the soft graze of connection.
You didn't pull away; you pressed into it, your hearts mutual in that shared moment stolen from time.
As you pulled back- only slightly- you were greeted with a curious arch of his brow.
“What was that for?”
You fumbled for words, excitement and confusion knotted in your throat.
“I don't know. It felt right.”
He said simply, the sincerity in his eyes causing your breath to hitch.
“More than friends then?”
You whispered, half afraid of the answer.
“Maybe?”
He replied, his breath warm against your lips.
“Maybe we’ve always been.”
You were both gleaming with that newfound clarity as laughter mingled with a deeper understanding of what was simmering between you.
You broke the silence first, your voice teasing.
“You DO look like a hot mess, but at least now you have the confidence to own it.”
Tate chuckled, the tension ebbing away as if it had never been there. He raised a finger to his lips, as though contemplating something profound.
“Tell me I don't look stupid like this, and I might just agree to more makeovers.”
His playful demeanor returned, the laughter echoing in the room, clearing out the tiptoeing emotions that had filled it moments before.
“Only if you’re willing to kiss me again.”
You replied, heart racing from the challenge, a smile creeping back across your face.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the darkened room was lit by flickering candlelight, igniting shadows that danced across the walls within the painted confines of comfort. Tate stared at you- hauntingly beautiful.
In that faded horror house, surrounded by the remnants of forgotten lives, you found truth in each other's fleeting touches, weaving together the essence of two souls that shunned the world but found solace in one another.
This was great request! I loved working on ths one! I can write anything for any character babes and don’t forget- requests are always open and welcome <33
since it's cold here I got myself the famous "Tate Langdon" sweater and I decided to ask for female reader x Tate. Like, when he's alive and you're hanging out but it's cold so he gives you his sweater pls
Hello dear!! Awww I love this so muchh! And also, I have the same sweater, we're matchy now ^^. Let's get writing (also I wanna say, I'm so so proud of this banner, I'm getting good at designs TwT)
El <3
Tate Langdon- lovely threads
*ੈ𑁍༘⋆
FEM reader
<3 (SFW)
TW!- none
Cozy but chilly spring night with Tate
Tate is alive in this one <3
Tate Langdon
The chilly spring night wrapped around you like a soft reminder of the world beyond your thoughts. As you laid on the grass outside the infamous murder house, you could feel the cool earth beneath you, the cold air prickling your skin.
It felt peaceful, though — surreal in a way that made every moment seem like an echo of a distant memory.
You hazily gazed up at the stars, wondering how many others had watched them shimmer over this haunted terrain. But it wasn't the sky that captivated your thoughts; it was the presence beside you, one that turned a spooky night into something warm and thrilling.
Tate Langdon glanced sideways at you, a smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth, eyebrows raised like he was in on a fantastic secret.
"Isn't it just beautiful?"
You finally turned to him.
He didn’t even pretend to look at the sky. Instead, he lifted a cigarette to his lips and took a slow drag. His eyes glimmered with amusement.
“Not as beautiful as you are."
He said, exhaling a cloud of smoke that vanished into the night. A rogue breeze caught your hair and ruffled it, and you rolled your eyes, hiding your smile behind your hands.
Tate had a way of disarming you, of making reality feel less like a tangible burden. You could see he had that effect on others—his charm like smoke, intoxicating and invisible, leaving a lingering warmth. But you knew him; you understood that beneath that staggeringly flirty demeanor lay a heart shadowed with darkness.
“Flirt all you want. It’s still freezing out here."
You replied, shivering ever so slightly.
He chuckled, an intoxicating sound that made your heart race.
“You need a sweater?”
Before you could respond, he undid the loose strings of his black and green striped sweater and pulled it over your head, pulling you closer to ensure it fit snugly around your form.
“There. You look better in it than I do, anyway.”
It was slightly oversized, wrapping you in Tate's scent—a heady mix of cigarettes and something distinctly him. It made you feel warm in more ways than one, and you bit your lip, trying to suppress the grin that threatened to spill over.
“God, I must look ridiculous.”
“Not even a little. It’s kind of cute.”
He winked, moving to lay back on the grass again, arms folded behind his head.
“You got that whole ‘lost wandering girl’ vibe going on, and I dig it.”
“Lost girl?”
You propped yourself up on an elbow instead, shaking your head in disbelief.
“You’re the one who’s lost, Tate. Half the time, you don’t even know what you want.”
His gaze shifted to you, curiosity shimmering in his brown eyes.
“Maybe I know exactly what I want, and it’s just sketchy around the edges.”
He took another drag, his focus unwavering as he studied you under the dim starlight.
“You’re not like the others. It’s like you can see through the bullshit.”
Your heart stuttered at his unexpectedly earnest admission.
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“It is.”
He turned onto his side, propping his head into his palm, and the intensity of his gaze almost made you forget about the haunted house behind him.
“You care. You’re real. Plus, it makes you cute when you blush like that.”
You felt heat creep across your cheeks, and you attempted to deflect his attention with a laugh.
“You just like corrupting innocent girls, Tate.”
“Who said you were innocent?”
He feigned innocence itself, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Maybe I'm just a sucker for messy girls who light up in dim places.”
You raised your eyebrows.
“That sounds ominous.”
“Guess it depends on the situation.”
He shifted closer, his hand brushing against yours, and the touch sent jolts spiraling through your entire being.
“Honestly? I just like being around you. Everybody else? They don’t get it.”
In that moment, the world faded, the murder house, the chilly air—it all dissipated, leaving just the electric connection crackling between you. Your breath caught in your throat.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re here, and it feels normal. For once, everything doesn’t seem so...”
He paused, searching for the right word,
“dangerous.”
His sudden vulnerability caught you off guard, and you weren't sure how to respond. You didn’t want to ruin the moment by recalling the very real darkness that surrounded him, that tried to seep into you every time you were together. Instead, you felt the urge to lean in closer, to let the suffocating anxiety drown in the warmth between you.
“Are you always like this?”
You asked, your voice almost a whisper, as if raising it would break the magic of the moment.
“Only with you.”
The honesty in his expression glimmered like the stars above. With a boldness that surprised you, you leaned in, close enough to see the way the moonlight danced in his eyes.
“I think you’re pretty damn perfect.”
“Perfectly messed up.”
He corrected, his expression playful but laced with truth.
Your laughter was light but came from a place of understanding—a recognition that neither of you was perfect, but still found something extraordinary in your connection.
“So, if we’re both messed up, where does that leave us?”
“Right here..”
He said, the distance between you nonexistent now. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles, leaving a soft trail of warmth you wished would last forever.
“Together in our own little world. What could be more perfect than that?”
You didn’t look back at the house, didn’t dwell on what horrors lived within it or what doom awaited beyond this fleeting moment. You focused on Tate, the way he effortlessly flipped the ordinary into the extraordinary. The chill of the night faded, leaving only the warmth of stolen glances, the gentle touch of friendships steeped in something deeper—something hopeful.
“Maybe this is exactly where we need to be."
You whispered, allowing your heart to speak in a way that your mind never could.
He leaned in, and as the world transformed around you, you surrendered to the feeling of promise hanging in the air—an intoxicating truth sealed with just an electric spark beneath the stars.
This was great for upcomming spooky season! I can write anything for any character babes and don’t forget- requests are always open and welcome <33
The corridor of Briarcliff Manor felt unearthly, its walls peeling with age and its shadows stretched long and menacing. You had ventured into the depths of the asylum under the pretense of an investigative journalist.
In truth, the overriding motive was curiosity and something akin to an internal pull. The rumors about Kit Walker circulated like wisps of ghost stories, and despite warnings etched in the eyes of those who knew him, you found yourself drawn to his tale.
The air was stale, infused with a scent of damp plaster and remnants of despair. You crept quietly past rows of heavy doors, each locking away some piece of tragic history.
As you walked, the echo of your footsteps felt like an intrusion—a reminder to the souls trapped inside their own private hells.
Then you heard it—a muffled sound, a plea lost in the void. It was haunting, resonating deep within you. You pressed your ear against one of the heavy doors.
That sound, a vulnerable whimper, ricocheted off the walls.
"Kit..."
You whispered to yourself, heart racing. The name was practically a spell, summoning you forward.
To your astonishment, the door to his cell creaked open, seemingly of its own accord. It wasn’t locked.
Everything inside you screamed for caution, but curiosity proved too strong a force. Stepping inside, you were greeted by the dim light filtering through the iron-barred window.
The atmosphere was suffocating—heavy with unspoken secrets and regret.
Kit lay thrashing on the small bed, trapped in the claws of a nightmare.
"No! Don’t—"
He shouted, voice laced with terror. Sweat glistened on his pale forehead, his disheveled hair sticking to his face. He looked tormented, and your heart broke at the sight.
You stepped closer, an overwhelming instinct to comfort washing over you.
"Kit. It’s me. It’s okay-"
You said softly, hoping the sound of your voice would pierce through the shadows suffocating him. But as you approached, the nightmare morphed into reality. His eyes snapped open, glassy and wild.
In that moment, it felt as if everything was suspended in time. Kit surged up from the bed, wide-eyed, ready to attack, driven by that primal fear he often portrayed—a fear triggered by the memories of violence that haunted him.
"No!"
You exclaimed, raising your hands in a gesture of peace.
“I’m not here to hurt you!”
He hesitated, eyes searching for a threat that wasn’t there. Recognition washed over him when he realized it was you, the faceless stranger who had dared to enter his world.
All at once, the feral edge faded from his expression. Kit crumpled back onto the bed, hands tangling in his hair, and you could hear the tremors of his despair.
“I… I thought it was her,.."
He whispered, voice breaking, despair pouring from him like a river’s overflow.
“I thought it was the thing that took her from me!”
You rushed to his side, instinct driving you to comfort him. This man, burdened by a weight no one else could understand, needed a lifeline.
“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Your voice was soothing, like a balm against the wounds of his past.
It felt surreal, kneeling beside him on the cold stone floor, torn between fear for your own safety and the instinct to hold him close. He looked so small, so lost. The bravado of his earlier fight drained from him, leaving behind a hollow shell wrapped in grief.
"I didn’t do it… I swear to you. I loved her.."
He murmured, desperation painting his words.
“They don’t believe me. Not anywhere.”
You could feel the tears pricking at your own eyes.
"I believe you, Kit. I believe you."
You said, leaning in closer, your heart aching at the fear displayed on his face. You rested a gentle hand on his back, and he flinched initially, but your touch seemed to diffuse some of the chaos swirling around him.
His body shook, and you watched helplessly as he broke down, tears finally spilling over.
This stricken man—the one rumored to be a killer, the one the world had turned its back on—was just a boy who had lost everything.
You wrapped your arms around him, allowing him to melt against you, creating a fragile sanctuary in the midst of madness.
“Why didn’t I save her?”
He gasped, voice muffled against your shoulder.
“Why didn’t I see it coming?”
You didn’t have the answers—to do so would be to delve into the realm of the unspeakable. But you held him tighter, sharing your warmth, a flicker of hope amid the despair of Briarcliff.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Kit. You’re not a monster. The world is monstrous sometimes.”
His breath slowed, and silence wrapped around you both, a quiet comfort amidst the cacophony of the asylum.
The weight of your roles—journalist and accused—faded away in that moment, leaving only two souls navigating through the darkness together.
“What if I am?”
He murmured, a hint of vulnerability shivering through his voice.
You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze.
“You’re not. You’re kind and frightened… just like the rest of us. This place makes it hard to be anything else.”
The words hung between you, tender and raw, and you could see a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
Time slipped away as you both remained there, cocooned in shared solace amidst the chaos.
It may have been a fleeting moment, a fragile connection in a cruel environment, but it shimmered with possibility—a promise to find truth, to heal, and perhaps, amid the shadows of a forsaken asylum, to find love.
In the depths of despair, a new chapter began, one that seemed impossible just moments before.
Together, you would confront the darkness, and perhaps, together, you would emerge into the light.
Whenever I watch AHS Asylum I just want to comfort Kit TwT I hope you liked it anyway <3
Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!
~Spoilers For American Horror Story Episode 6: Piggy Piggy~
I can't get over the fact that Tate loved Violet so much that he brought her back, even when he drove her to attempt. It's really creepy what he did, and how he's not really alive, but I guess it's so amazing how strong he cares for her, even though it's borderline stalker-like.
