//i was thinking about ships and i just wanted to say that i dislike ninakate. the idea is nice but then most of the execution makes kate this masculine strong buff beast while nina is the frail feminine one. and then im like why is this so popular.
//the thing that makes me dislike ninakate the most is just the blatant mischaracterization of kate milens
This is a creepypasta drug den au; tw for graphic violence, domestic abuse, emetophobia, and sexual assault if you squint.
This one especially! ☝️ Is 18+!! Mdni please!
Cool light of a sunrise glazed the bed of sex and cheap polyester. The wooden floor carried a filth buried deep in the crevices between the grain that could never wash out, so it was covered in rugs and the walls with graffiti. One in particular, by the door, wore a full-fledged mural of a cabin with a tire swing out front. Beneath that mural was a sloppy painting of a bird Kate had spotted on a mission once, covering another mural of that same cabin. Beneath that was another mural, but it had been scribbled and spat over until it was unrecognizable. And beside the coats of paint that cobbled over each other like crabs in a bucket, was a pile of boxes that covered a portrait. Black and pink hair swung around the edges, identical to the way Nina’s hair splayed out around the pillow.
Kate rolled over with a groggy hum, following the warmth in a half-asleep, zombified daze. The blankets grazed her from above as she slid her hand down around Nina’s bare thigh and dipped crescent shaped dents into her skin. The subtle tang of salt hugged her lips as she pressed them into the heat of her neck.
Nina stirred. Just a subtle nudge of her hips before her fingernails curled themselves through Kate’s raggedy bed head. She mumbled something.
“Wazzat?” Kate asked.
Nina smiled, “G’morning.”
Kate coiled her arms around her lover’s waist, still buried in her neck. “Mornin’.”
“How’d you sleep?” Nina let out a pleasured groan as she stretched.
“Pretty good.”
“That’s good,” Nina smiled genuinely. Her voice was low with sleep, but still lilted like a songbird. “Can I smoke in here?”
Kate covered her mouth when she yawned. “Yeah,” She moaned, “I’d prefer if you did it by the window.”
Nina pouted, “It’s cold, though.”
“It’s even colder when you open the window,” Kate chuckled. She rubbed her eyes and slid her feet to the floor like it wasn’t already frigid. Nina took a moment to stare at Kate’s body like it was the first time. Her shoulders carried waves of firm muscle that followed down to her toes. A thick, pinkened gash carved the space between the top of her hip and her pubis, separate from the bouquet of others that lined her back and chest. Her breasts stretched with the movement of her arms as she reached for the sky with another tight yawn and carried herself around to Nina’s side. “You wanna smoke?”
“What?” Nina snapped back to Earth. “Oh! Yeah, I just don’t wanna get cold. I’ll live for a second.”
Kate crouched beside her and grinned. She pulled the hem of the blanket over Nina’s delicate shoulders and rolled her up like a sushi roll to a chorus of squealing laughter.
“Katie!” Nina cackled as she careened to the other side of the bed, jostling around in her new cocoon.
“What?” Kate’s frown lines were a faded photograph. She’d smiled more that morning than she had in the last decade. She bent over and scooped the burritoed Nina into her arms with a grunt, and Nina couldn’t help but gasp. Her cheeks burned with a creeping obsession when she laid her head against Kate’s collarbone. “There you are,” Kate cooed under her breath as she bounced Nina in her arms, tossing her into the crooks of her elbows.
A nearby wooden chair screamed in protest against the floor as Kate hooked her foot around the leg and dragged it closer to a perfect spot by the window, where she could hold Nina into her lap, and shoved the window open, almost choreographed. The breeze smelled like morning dew, crisp and fresh. So perfectly human to wake up to.
Nina fidgeted. She was still warm. She was in someone’s lap. She’d begged for so long to just feel the touch of another person. A familiar rush of endorphins engulfed her in her entirety in a way that horrified her to her core, but she couldn’t look away from Kate when she popped a crinkled marlboro between lips softened by Nina’s lip gloss and chapped by the juices she’d so eagerly lapped up the night before.
“You want one?” Kate’s voice was cocaine. Nina wrestled with her hand and almost reached through the top of her cocoon, but Kate didn’t let her, yet. A calloused hand, unfamiliar to delicate touch, flinched before it tucked another cigarette between her rose petal lips, and even lit it for her.
Nina upturned her eyes in worship, and Kate lowered hers the same. Her arm stiffened around Nina’s shoulders so she could relax like the royalty she felt like.
Nina finally shoved her hand through the top of the blanket burrito to pluck the smoke from her lips, just for a hint of fresh air. “You’re…gorgeous…in this light.”
Kate seemed to short circuit. “That’s a new one,” She smirked.
“No one’s ever called you gorgeous before?” Nina gasped. Kate looked at the ceiling, like it knew better than her. “Uh…” She crooked her lip and lolled her head side to side, “Maybe a guy in high school. Maybe my mom when I was a kid.”
“She doesn’t anymore?” Nina regretted asking the second it left her lips. Kate avoided eye contact for just a second longer. “Well,” She sighed light-heartedly, “You’ve seen where I live. I don’t think anyone here has parents to go home to.”
Nina smiled sadly. Mostly relieved. A pit in her stomach had opened and threatened to throw her inside if Kate didn’t react perfectly, but so far it was going great. So far she felt full.
Kate shot smoke from the corner of her mouth as she watched Nina through a static that faded the edges of her vision, just like the darkness takes over some poor sap’s eyes when a stranger buries her thumbs in their trachea.
There were rules to living in this hellhole. Kate and everyone else, served a purpose to a higher being. Physically, he took the form of a tall, faceless man. Tentacles protruded from his back, sharper than those of an octopus but too fleshy to be a cat of nine tails. He presented wearing a suit, as if what he’s doing is just business. When Kate was a teenager, she was given an offer she couldn’t refuse. Cause or endure suffering.
Most of the time, she pulled this off by hauling drugs. Whatever X-Virus cooked up, it was always highly addictive, and whatever happened afterwards was none of Kate’s business as long as her vision cleared and her head stopped hurting. Because that meant The Operator was fed for at least a few days. Her body was taut and hardened with muscle, because she rarely had a chance to just sit down.
Now, she’d been on cloud nine with this beautiful woman for two days now. Day three is usually when people start self-mutilating.
“So, you have a podcast?” Kate asked just to ward off the silence. Nina tripped over her pulse. “Yeah,” She giggled sheepishly, “It’s called Nina the Killer. You ever heard of it?”
“Can’t say I have,” Kate lied, “Tell me about it.”
“Basically,” Nina eagerly began, “I’m a journalist. Well, I like to think I’m a journalist. I’ve never been to school, but you can hear how much better I’ve gotten over the years at investigating people. Well, I can, anyway, cuz I’ve listened to all my episodes. I Interview family members and friends of the deceased, usually, but now I’ve been able to pick the brains of some of the killers, themselves…”
Kate loved the sound of her voice; it’d be a crime to deny that. But Kate’s head thrummed with war drums. Nina’s head was leaned back in her left arm and Kate’s cigarette was burning with a napalm cherry in the other hand, far away from each other. She needed to reconcile that real quick.
“...My two year anniversary is coming up, actually, so I’m really happy I got to meet all these guys!” Nina squealed, “I’ve been wanting to revisit the Jeffrey Alan Woods case forever! He’s my favorite one. Well--not my favorite, obviously. I mean, more like, I find his case really fascinating, what with his brother following in his footsteps and--” Nina gasped apologetically as she spilled ash on the sheets, “I’m so sorry--"
Both of Kate’s hands cupped either side of Nina’s face, thumbs under her jaw, and she pulled her against her face in a fantastic, deep kiss that shook Nina to her core. Kate twirled her fingers just enough to press the cherry against Nina’s delicate skin and pulled her even closer to muffle the precursor to a scream. She couldn’t stop. Every second that the skin spent searing and parting around the cherry, the pressure in her head eased. Her brain was bursting, boiling over in her skull, and this small slice of cruelty moved her from the burner. Her vision, though her eyes were closed, cleared from a broken TV to a glitchy VCR. She sighed into Nina’s screams.
Nina shoved away, palm to her collarbone, and only then did Kate jerk her hand away. “Oh my god!” Kate gasped, “I’m so sorry!”
Nina cut her shriek off with a whimper and clutched the fresh wound. “It’s okay!”
“Holy shit, no it isn’t!” Kate gingerly turned Nina’s head by her chin. “Let me see it.”
Nina lowered her hand. A bloody worm in a browning apple the size of a dime stared at Kate. A miniscule flap of skin dangled from around the wound did its best to cover up the damage.
“I am so sorry!” Kate slammed her cigarette into the ashtray and pushed a strand of hair behind Nina’s ear, shaky but cautious.
“It’s okay!” Nina repeated, and her eyes scrunched in a grimace.
“I’ll go get the first aid kit,” Kate hoisted Nina back into her arms and laid her on the bed. She didn’t know anything about treating burn wounds. She was immortal. Everyone in the manor was immortal. It never occurred to her to even have a first aid kit. But someone might.
“It’s okay!”
“It’s not,” Kate threw a ratty hoodie and a pair of boyshorts over herself, “I’ll be right back.”
The blankets fell from Nina like petals of a flower, spreading in full bloom, before the door had closed, but Kate didn’t see. Her eyes were on the ground, slicing at the floor with every blink.
There was nothing like a bandaid in the bathroom. She found athletic tape, dried on the edges with dust bunnies and grime from the caulk between the toilet and the tub. Running water didn’t save it, so she left it there.
“Hey!” A voice boomed from behind. Kate spun around and came face to face with the eyeless mountain of what once was a man. His hand made the backpack he coiled his claws around look like a handbag. “You’ve got a batch.”
“Sure,” Kate waved him away, “Give me a second.”
“No.”
Kate’s eyes blasted open as fresh bullet wounds. “Why?”
“You’re past the deadline,” Jack said flatly.
“There’s no deadline,” Kate argued. Jack shoved the bag against her chest, and she had no fucking choice. Her legs were tense with purpose, already, and her hands curled around the straps like a begrudging handshake. “Fuck you,” She growled.
Jack stepped away, heavy down the hall. No shoes, just power and mass. Kate gritted her teeth, but the static was already creeping in. Again.
“Fuck you,” She whispered to the floor. Her hair, tangled from its time around Nina’s fingers, hung like the countless nooses of hung prisoners over her face. She’d come so close to bloodletting this horrid exhaustion from her veins, but it was still there. Specks of it reddened her vision. The brief respite made straining her forearm to haul the heavy load burn. She dragged her feet. Her hand stiffened around the doorknob as she pushed inside and found Nina, dressed as beautifully as ever, pulling the sheets taut over the mattress in a way they hadn’t been for years.
Kate had seen Nina’s bedroom. She was the same way; filthy and cluttered with years of apathetic isolation, dust untouched anywhere but the bed and the few surfaces her pipes and bottles laid. Still, she tidied this space.
“Thanks, babe,” Kate’s lips tugged into a smile as she giggled with awe. She dragged a hand across her face, fingers and thumb massaging the sides of her eyes. “I…need to leave.”
“I do, too,” Nina said quickly. She stood like wood, eyes wider than usual. Prey-like.
“I’m sorry,” Kate offered and Nina shook her head, “No, don’t be--”
“I hurt you--”
“It’s okay!” Nina felt ready to burst, “I’m not mad, I promise!” She ran across the room and laid her hands against Kate’s sternum, warm with a racing heart. “Are you?”
“Why would I be mad?” Kate plucked one of Nina’s hands and lifted it to her lips like the sweetest berry, “You should be mad.”
“I don’t know,” Nina chuckled. Kate shook her head, “I’m really just being sent on a mission.”
“Mission for what?”
Kate blinked. “It’s, uh…”
“None of my business,” Nina nodded, her gaze anywhere else, “Sorry.”
“Nothing interesting,” Kate forced a smile that she couldn’t bring to her eyes, “I’ll be back.”
“I have to work, too,” Nina’s whine flickered with dread.
“We’ll see each other later,” Kate pleaded. Nina nodded and forced a smile of her own, clouded with hope she really didn’t need to cling to. Kate was already looking at her like a starving stray dog when Nina bent over to tie her shoes and her skirt rode up her thighs.
Kate led the way through the manor, now crowded over with celebrities and nobodies that would look at home in the seventh circle of hell, and held her hand tightly as they stepped out into those rotten woods that curved in on themselves. Kate saw no fear or pain in Nina’s eyes, and Nina saw no danger or lust in Kate’s. They separated surgically at the end of the two mile road where an Uber driver let out the biggest sigh of relief of her life when she saw Nina get in and not Kate. In fact, Kate had already disappeared before they’d driven away. She was a phantom to the world, but her skull felt too small. Her vision shuddered and glitched with an unreal analog filter. She could barely see. But she could run, and so she did. She always remembered how to run.
The moon was high in the sky when Kate arrived with an empty backpack and a stolen bouquet of roses at Nina’s second floor apartment. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes glazed over with the powdered grogginess she’d smoked on the way down. Anything to calm the merciless demands of The Operator. No one had been hurt as a result of the batch she’d delivered, yet, and when Nina answered the door with an arm draped up the side of the doorway and nothing but a tight tank top and panties, Kate didn’t have a chance to soften her shoulders before a startled gasp escaped painted lips. “Oh my god!”
Blood trailed down the side of Kate’s palm, through the crease in her pinkie finger, and onto her shoes. Kate might have mistook her shock for the joyful kind if Nina didn’t rush to pry the bouquet from her frigid hands. “Baby, those have thorns!” She whined. Kate tugged her hand away to assess the damage. Stigmata stared back at her. She’d driven a thorn so deeply into her hand that the capillaries wept.
“Come inside,” Nina rushed to the bathroom where she actually had a first aid kit. Mostly clean. She didn’t have to know it wasn't necessary, and she meticulously fussed through the kit with her long nails like chopsticks, picking around for the best bandaid. “I can’t believe you did that!”
Kate’s eyes darted around with a fear she couldn’t pinpoint. A ragged growl was all that could escape her. Her fists clenched and unclenched. “Rough day.”
“I’ll say.” Nina finally wrapped her fingers around Kate’s to splay out her palm and wiped the wound down with a wet paper towel.
Kate’s head throbbed. She needed to feed Him. She couldn’t be here. Images of her lover battered and bruised against the floor flashed across her vision like a movie screen. Nina spoke calmly again, that same lilt that made the walls sing, but Kate didn’t hear what she said. She just nodded.
Nina spread a pink bandaid across Kate’s palm and cupped it in both hands. Her strawberry chapstick blessed the wound.
“All better,” She said.
Kate breathed. They shared what Nina felt was a comfortable silence.
An identical pink bandaid clung to Nina’s neck where she'd been attacked. Kate wanted to touch it. She wanted to wrap her hands around it. Drive her finger inside, tear at the flesh inside and tear out her jugular like a fucking ape. Her hand curled around Nina’s with the tenderness of a cornered animal. The bandaid peeled off when her skin folded tighter around her fingers. Then tighter. Nina whimpered something. Kate clamped tighter with an uncaring iron fist. Not painful enough. Not enough. Not enough.
Nina cried something and tried to tear her hand away in vain. Whatever she said, it started with “Baby,” and ended in “Stop.”
“Sorry,” Kate giggled. Nina slammed her fist down on Kate’s hand but only hurt herself further. She winced, lips parted in a timid, pleading breath as Kate’s eyes shone with nothing. Her gaze was nothing short of merciless. A mindless machine.
“Stop!” Nina screamed. Kate didn’t respond. She might have loosened her grip ever so slightly--she would’ve loved to do that--but she met Nina with silence and nothing more than empty orbs behind her shaggy hair. Agonizingly slowly, each thrum of her heart hurt just a little less. Her bones felt like molasses rather than crude oil. Her legs burned like a campfire instead of an inferno. Nina’s fingers threatened to break. She prayed they wouldn’t. She prayed they would.
The walls shook. Not with a scream--some enraged fist was beating the front door like it owed him money. Kate jolted awake. Nina paled. Finally, she released her.
Red marks rose across Nina’s fingers as she yanked them against her sternum, and her buggy eyes shone with tears. That voice behind the door was familiar to her, whatever he was saying. Kate was too fucked up to hear the words. She turned in her seat, ratty sneakers against the legs of the chair and slumped over like she was ready to nod off on the business end of a gun. The door flew open, a scorned customer appeared in the doorway armed, and that’s exactly what happened. Kate’s eyes didn’t even flutter open before her forehead burst open in a blaze of crimson glory.
It wasn’t a clean shot. Her skull brushed the side of the fridge and left a bloody stamp on its way down the hall. The force of the bullet threw her against the counter, where she ragdolled onto the linoleum floor and died, gurgling long after she was gone.
Nina almost vomited a scream, but nothing more than a ragged squeak dribbled out. The man’s shoe splashed against the evergrowing puddle of Kate’s blood as he stormed up to Nina, cursing every crease and curve of her body, and Nina couldn’t do anything but stare ahead at everything.
Her first steps, alone in the yard. That kid on the playground that kicked her in the shins over a toy. Her first heartbreak in middle school. Her first psych ward visit. Her brother’s battered body tumbling out of a moving van onto the sidewalk. Her second psych ward visit. Her eighteenth birthday, ending with everything she owned in garbage bags on the front lawn. Her fourth meetup with a stranger on Tindr and the motel room she almost died in; the youth shelter where her friend was sexually assaulted right next to her while she slept, and her sagging, hopeless face in the aftermath. Even in a life or death situation her mind couldn’t conjure up a single positive memory, but the emotions were somehow different. Bittersweet, maybe. She didn’t have time to put it to words as she felt the sight of the pistol stab into her forehead, while the word “whore” painted the air with toxic waste.
The screeched “Stop!” was about as effective as it always was. He gripped a fistful of her hair and threw her to the ground next to the mutilated corpse. Her thrumming heartbeat drowned out the sickening squelch and clicks of bone clipping together beside her. Brain matter regenerated like it was just business. Kate moved.
One hand in her hair, the man tried to touch Nina again, but Kate’s hand moved quicker. Face down on the damp linoleum, she grabbed his ankle and he met the floor with a splash. Finally, victoriously, she lifted her head, damp and crimson, but otherwise sturdy as if nothing happened. Face contorted in something Nina couldn’t quite parse.
“Can we just…” Kate muttered and held her head in one dripping palm, “Can we get along, or something?”
“What the fuck?!” The man screamed in that way Kate had heard a million times before, elbow crooked defensively in front of his face while he watched the zombie push herself to her knees. His gun shuddered against the floor like a cold, abandoned child until he jerked awake, and Kate jerked back with another bullet wound in her shoulder.
“Son of a bitch!” She grabbed his ankle again and dragged him closer. The gun stayed where his hand didn’t. Face to face, the man looked hell in the eyes. Kate shook the walls. Glass shattered. “PUT THE PEASHOOTER AWAY!!!”
Nina finally jumped into action and scrambled to her knees, cupping both hands around the live gun. She aimed it, but didn’t shoot. Hands clammy. She didn’t trust herself to aim.
Kate straddled the intruder. Knees at his hips, she only took a second to wade through her thoughts through a mind foggy with withdrawal. Oscillating between different sicknesses was a surefire way to drive anyone’s fingers into a stranger’s mouth and tear his jaw from its socket with strength no human should have. His tongue jerked away in a godfearing scream after the pop. A spring of relief trickled from the back of Kate’s skull and down her spine. She shuddered. Her fingers turned to spiders that crawled to the back of his throat and reveled in the uneven pulse of the walls of his esophagus, squeezing her hand like an orgasm. A quiet “Thank fuck,” dribbled from her lips when he started to flail, red like a newborn as he fought for air. Her gaze flitted to Nina. Knuckles deep in a dying man, her only thought was how horrified she looked.
Her dainty hand shivered around the gun, finger tense over the trigger guard. Her perfect bottom lip trembled. She inched back but couldn't look away.
The face below Kate faded to a bright red. He shook his head in a plea like the one he’d ignored seconds before, and Kate couldn’t help but let out one minute shrug of a laugh. “‘Kay.”
She tore her hand away, nails curled, undoubtedly drawing blood from the softest parts of his tongue, and clocked him in his agonizing, broken jaw with a fist covered in his own slime. Teeth flew as his mouth split from itself, held together by skin alone. He couldn’t scream through the bile that had risen halfway through his throat with the abuse of his gag reflex, but his hands rose to cradle his injuries. Something like begging curdled in him while Kate stood up.
Her toes were steel. She kicked him with enough force to shatter his sternum, just below his ribcage where it electrocuted him in a way his biology was designed to protect against. His stomach convulsed and finally emptied itself in a violent explosion, and his eyes yellowed as vomit splattered back down his face, crawling across his irises like insects.
Kate stumbled back. Finally, she could feel rage. Rage that this worthless sack had dared to lay a goddamn hand on Nina. She kicked him again, just in the side, though it made him grunt with the last of his air all the same. “Get the fuck out!” She screamed.
He turned to balance himself on both hands for a split second and looked up at Kate like a scared puppy. Like he was somehow surprised that he’d come in, guns blazing, and faced violence.
“I said get the fuck out,” Kate ordered again, grave as a drill sergeant, “I don’t want to clean up your body.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. The wounded animal scrambled out the open door before he could even stand up straight. He slammed into a wall with a pained whimper, cradling what used to be his face, and wasn’t coming back.
And as the apartment finally fell into silence, Nina’s shuddered breathing finally broke through the thickness, and her cheeks stained with trails of ruined mascara. Kate closed the door. Locked it this time. Refused to look. “I’ll clean up and go,” The offer was napalm in her chest.
“Please don’t,” Nina said for the fiftieth time. The thousandth in her life. Millionth, maybe. Kate perked up and finally turned, frozen. Awaiting orders. Nina met her gaze with a shaky set of breaths that took centuries to gasp and release. “Please?”
“Why?” Kate didn’t want to ask, but it was already out there.
“What do you mean, why?” Nina lowered the gun to the floor like it would fire again at any second. “You saved me.”
Kate’s eyes darted to the filth on the floor. It’d be a miracle if it was ever clean again, but, she supposed, a lot of things never truly disappear.
“I’ll clean up,” She said again.
“And you’ll stay?” Nina pleaded.
“Yeah,” Kate would've cried if she could; and for once, she could barely whisper, “I'll stay.”
It's summer, Nina's doing her yearly tan as the only Creepypasta still able of getting one
She gets the usual sunscreen tats, some flowers and suns on her legs, a playboy bunny on her hip
Kate asks if she can also add a doodle, and Nina agrees, half-asleep and thinking nothing of it. Kate's her girlfriend, and she's responsible. She'll probably do something cute, like a palm tree or school of fish.
And Nina keeps that thought untul she wakes up when the sun is set and goes to take a cold shower. But then she passes the mirror.
Do you guys fuck with Ninakate but instead of them being happy it’s Kate yearning for Nina while Nina lies to herself that she’s soooo in love with Jeff and she definitely isn’t in love with her best friend Kate
What do you mean am I listening to Good Luck, Babe! right now how did you know that
