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Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

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Kitte's writing account (mostly COD)! | 28 | she/her | MDNI | pfp by @rowanartist.bsky.social
#pricegaz #kittewrites

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Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

#kittewrites
Ok couldn't resist, have some more of Emile and Laurent. Aftermath of feeding... cw for some suggestive language

Laurent glances over at Emile who is staring at the ground intensely. He sits there on the ground, deep in thought, his dark brows furrowed – he doesn't seem perturbed by the blood slowly seeping through the bandage. Laurent is a little worried about that, but he'll monitor it.

"You back with me?" he asks then, tucking the rest of the bandages in his satchel. Emile doesn't react and Laurent sighs, walking over and crouching in front of him. "Emile?"

"Yeah," comes the curt reply. Emile still won't meet his eyes, and his lips barely move around the reply.

"You feeling alright?" Laurent asks, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah."

"Dizzy? Pain in the arm? Nausea?"

"I'm fine," Emile grunts, and then puts his hand over his forehead. "Or… No. None of that, but I feel… weird." He holds out his arm, staring at his bandaged forearm. "Definitely weird."

Laurent bites the inside of his cheek. "How was it for you? Feel anything?"

Emile's cheeks flush. Laurent drags a hand over his face and stands up again. He walks over to the satchel and gets his flask out, taking a swig of the bitter drink, the herbal aftertaste burning in his throat, and then hands it to Emile.

"There," he says, his voice gruff, and Emile takes the flask with some hesitation. "It's not poisoned."

"My blood is still on your lips," Emile grumbles back, clearly checking the flask for remnants of his own blood, but then raises it to his lips. He barely holds back a sputter as he drinks, and then hands it back without taking a second sip. "I'm fine. It was just a strange experience."

"I told you," Laurent crosses his arms. "It's an invasive thing. I wouldn't blame if you didn't want to do it again."

Emile ducks his head, eyes fixed firmly on the floor as his cheeks stay a reddish hue. "I didn't mind. I'm just embarrassed."

Laurent frowns and then it dawns on him – the quiet moans, Emile's fingers in his hair, his squirming… and as he looks between Emile's legs, his suspicions are confirmed.

"Well," he says, and then can't think of anything else to say.

January 15, 2026 at 6:12 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

#kittewrites
WIP wednesday and introducing some OCs of mine!

Laurent is a freshly turned vampire and Emile his... well, it's complicated. Human ward. Ex-boss. With his vampire instincts developing, Laurent finds himself in hot waters...

CW: blood and aftermath of graphic violence

The haze cleared slowly, his head clearing from the madness that overwhelmed him just moments before. His chest was heaving and something was sticking to his skin and clothes, and his hands were dripping with…

Laurent raised his hands. They were covered in blood, the long claws slowly retracting with a sting. He blinked, once, twice, and then he finally looked around him.

Bodies, surrounding him, their chests and throats torn open. The bandits from earlier, all of them slaughtered on this forest floor, and the taste of iron on his tongue and the blood on his hands left no question what exactly happened here. What killed them.

"Laurent…?" came a voice to his left, and as he looked to its direction, he found Emile there, leaning against a tree and holding his bleeding arm. Laurent's nostrils flared at the sight and he could feel his fangs and claws growing again, red haze rising again at the thought of Emile hurt.

"Who?" he growled and Emile… flinched.

Laurent stopped, his fangs retracting, taking in Emile's shaken state. Was it… Could it be that he…?

"They're dead," Emile whispered. "Just like everyone else." He swallowed thickly, swayed in place and took one shaky step forward. "Are you… are you with me? Laurent?"

His head was spinning. He looked around him, took in the carnage as it slowly dawned on him what exactly he had done. No wonder Emile looked so frightened. He felt nauseous.

Instead of answering, Laurent stumbled over to the nearest tree and vomited blood on its roots.

January 14, 2026 at 4:18 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

This is lovely!! Thank you for the tag

Show your art/writing at the start of 2025 VS your art/writing at the end of 2025

The first is from my first fic of the year, 'inevitability', and the second from an unpublished fic still in the works, work title 'tent fic'

The moment the sergeant is done with his first cigarette, he takes out another one. John follows as he digs into his pockets again, finds his lighter, and then fumbles with the light. The fire eludes him, a flicker appearing every now and then as his finger slips on the ignition.

John doesn’t know what prompts him to open his mouth: “Can I help?”

The sergeant startles and nearly drops his lighter. “I’m sorry, sir?”

“Let me,” John reaches out his hand, “I’ll light it for you.”

The man’s cheeks flush. It’s a cute look. “Thank you, sir.” He hands John the lighter and then leans forward, letting John light the cigarette. The red glow of it fits in, somehow, with the gloomy atmosphere. John gives the lighter back, and their hands brush at the exchange.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name before,” John says. The sergeant clears his throat.

“Sergeant Garrick.” He meets John’s eyes. “Kyle Garrick.”

“Captain John Price,” John offers his hand and Garrick shakes it firmly with his free hand.

“Wish we could have met under better circumstances,” Garrick says and John can’t help but agree. Their handshake lingers just a moment, and some other day John might have taken that as some kind of invitation. Today is not that kind of day, and Garrick doesn’t seem like the kind of person.

"Have you ever been hunting?"

Price's words cut through the silence of the safehouse. Gaz looks up from his tattered novel to where Price is sitting in a dingy armchair, smoking. He probably shouldn't be, but who's going to stop him? Not Gaz.

Gaz frowns. "What, like animals?"

Price grunts, "Yes, animals, Gaz."

"I haven't," Gaz shakes his head. He lowers his book to his lap. "Have you?"

Price gives him a half-shrug. "Every now and then. Good skill to keep up, you never know when you need it."

Gaz shifts, leans forward in his own chair. "Is it fun?"

Price takes a long drag from his cigar. "Jolly."

"Right." Gaz truly feels his city boy roots showing, he can't tell if Price is being serious or not.

"It's good exercise," Price muses. "You reconnect with some nature, it connects with you—"

"With dinner?"

December 29, 2025 at 6:36 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

WIP Wednesday yay, some pricegaz again

He glances at Price and finds him already looking, and they stop in unison as they observe movement in the bushes. They raise their weapons in unison, pointing at the twitching foliage, and Price nods to him.

Gaz brings his finger to the trigger. He stands stock still, waiting for the creature to move, and then—

A grey-brown bird bursts from the bushes and takes to the air. Gaz's trigger finger twitches, but no shot rings out as he lowers his rifle. He glances at Price again who is looking at him with a mischievous kind of grin.

Gaz glares at him. Did you know it wasn't a target?

Price shrugs. Bastard.

December 3, 2025 at 3:34 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Tumblr tags offer some important context i think

it's not dubcon situation but not very ethical either; gaz very much wants to be there but doesn't care for price's endless pining; why would he commit to a man who can't love him like he wants to be loved? this man only knows sex and violence as tools to show his feelings. he doesn't need that. fuck that old man both literally and metaphorically.

November 26, 2025 at 11:46 AM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

My humble offering to the #hucklerobby fandom

November 15, 2025 at 3:52 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Wip Wednesday! I have a new fic tormenting Price coming to theaters near you (in like a week or two or three)

"Soap, would you come with me for a bit?"

"Yes, sir."

Gaz and Ghost don't even look up from their card game as Soap gets up from the table and walks to the hallway with Price.

Price finds them a quiet nook and then stops, turns to the Sergeant.

"Did you mean it?"

Soap blinks. "Mean what, sir?"

"Does it seem to you like Gaz is 'my favourite'?"

"Well, I mean—"

"I'm asking this seriously. Does it feel like to you that I'm treating Sergeant Garrick favourably or differently to you?"

Soap looks stunned by the question. "No, sir. It was just banter."

November 12, 2025 at 3:37 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Just dug up this abandoned pricegaz wip, an AU set in 6th century Byzantine empire between monks Kyle and John (Kyriakos and Iohannes, respectively, but I "translated" the names to English like a hagiography). Never finished this but i'm still fond of it

#kittewrites

November 10, 2025 at 4:11 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Help

November 9, 2025 at 5:38 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Wip Wednesday! Some Price angst from Dragon Age AU

A shell of himself, he drags himself from one day to another, and pretends that he isn’t a dead man walking.

Or so it feels. Perhaps he’s being a little dramatic – but it’s hard not to be, within pain like this. Each night he procrastinates sleep, fears his own dreams. That they’ll take him to that morning – or worse, to the night. To all the nights before. To the memory of a kiss. A dagger pressed in a lethal hand. A secret shared in the darkness. In the morning he wakes with tears in his eyes, gasping for breath and shaking; other mornings he wakes up warm and forgetful, until the morning light shines in his eyes and he remembers where he is, and that it's summer. That spring rains have gone and only thing left is the sweltering heat that only burns him within, not offering the respite of a breeze.

Memory is a funny thing – sometimes it runs fickle, like a forest stream sprinting over mossy rocks, finding a way through the smallest cracks and running away; other times it crashes over heavy like ocean waves. These memories feel like the sea, rolling and relentless, the tide rising as if to drown him, and then retreating and leaving but dry land. How he longs for the days when looking at them wasn’t like drowning.

November 5, 2025 at 6:53 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

#kittewrites #pricegaz
NSFW, hurt/comfort, 1,5k words

Rewrote the Price crying fic. Bon appetit.

archiveofourown.org/works/73684016

November 4, 2025 at 4:53 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Alright let's do this too, thank you Chz for making this!

October 31, 2025 at 10:13 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

WIP whatever. Tent fic is slowly coming along.

October 31, 2025 at 10:02 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

You know when you really love a fic and you just. Yeah.
(this fic was posted yesterday)

Screenshot from archive of our own with the text "visited 13 times"

October 31, 2025 at 7:23 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Stolen from TL... i would like to answer some questions hello :)

October 31, 2025 at 10:37 AM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

#pricegaz #kittewrites
Take My Violent Hands chapter 2 is out now!

Soap is introduced to the story and the pining begins :)

archiveofourown.org/works/711602...

September 25, 2025 at 2:44 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

Hey also guess what made me feel like i'm a thousand years old. Where's superwholock.

September 21, 2025 at 4:14 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

HEY. WHAT'S THIS. This is Wrong. And Secondly. No i'm Not.

September 21, 2025 at 4:13 PM

Kitte (writes)

@kittewrites.bsky.social

#pricegaz #kittewrites

Take My Violent Hands

- Dragon Age AU
- 1/15 chapters, rated E
- Enemies to lovers, explicit sexual content, canon-typical violence (applies to both COD and DA), the usual pricegaz insanity

archiveofourown.org/works/711602...