#the shapeshifting detective

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Shapeshifting Detective - Part 9 (Final Part)

cw: parental death, grief

male shapeshifter x fem character

word count: 2k

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 (Final Part)

She woke up tucked into her bed. Quite literally, actually. The blankets were pushed under her on all sides, so tight she almost felt like she was being held down. 

Vincent was at her side, looking down at her nervously as she took stock of her situation. 

She squirmed a little bit, freeing the covers from her enough that she managed to sit up, head spinning as she did. 

Immediately there was a cup of water being thrust at her, his eyes flitting nervously across her face as he handed it to her.

“I didn’t know how often humans needed to drink,” he blurted out. “You normally do it a lot but you’ve been passed out for a day and Evelyn said you’d be fine but you looked so pale.”

She took the water gratefully, just now noticing how dry her mouth felt. 

It took her too long to realize he still looked like Harvey.

He gave her a sheepish laugh when she pointed it out with a quiet, “You’re still him,” before she took a sip from the glass.

“Yeah, maybe that was a bad decision. I think it was the face I had that I thought would be least upsetting to you? Not that his face isn’t upsetting to you, I just don’t really have the best options. Other than using a stranger, and I imagine that would also be upsetting to you when you woke up. A stranger at your bedside, I mean.”

She shrugged. “I think I would’ve known. It’s getting easier to tell.”

He didn’t manage to fight back the grin that broke out across his face, though she watched him try. “Right, of course you would have.”

A silence fell for a moment as Vincent fought to regain a mostly neutral expression and Kate looked aimlessly around the room, taking stock of the place she’d lived in for all her life. 

“Where’s Anne?” she asked, eyes lingering on her dresser, with the items atop it laid slightly awry. 

He gave her a pitying look and her heart sunk at the sight. She knew what it meant. 

“She left,” he said. “She said it wasn’t the right place for her anymore. I tried to convince her to stay, to at least say goodbye, but she seemed set on it.”

So she finally did it. She ran off, just forgot about all of this and left her behind. 

Kate nodded. “As she should. She’d got a good head on her.”

“She shouldn’t have left you,” Vincent said quietly. 

“And there’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have done either. Sometimes that’s how things go, it seems.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but knew he shouldn’t, knew it would only make things worse. 

Offhandedly, watching the discontent on his face, she whispered, “I think I loved her.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “I think you did too.”

After a moment's contemplation, he spoke again, this time more tentatively. “I could try to help, you know. I could be her, let you say goodbye, maybe get some closure.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to be anyone else. Just stay.”

She watched his face flush and then watched him become embarrassed at the fact that he’d blushed, burying his head in his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “This is a horrible situation and I don’t think I’m helping.”

“You are helping,” she insisted. 

He looked dubious but he took her at her word, pushing onwards. “Do you want to go see your mother? I can arrange it so they’ll let you.”

She shook her head, steadfast and firm. “No. I need to be done with this. I can’t see her, at least not now. Maybe not ever. I don’t know.”

He nodded, moving as if to reach for her hand before stopping and pulling it back towards himself. “You don’t have to know. If you ever want to, she’ll be there.”

And then a knock echoed through the house and they both started at the sudden noise, a little of the water she was still clutching in her hands spilling onto the sheets as she did. 

Vincent scrambled to find something to clean it with, the door clearly not being his first priority. 

Kate, on the other hand, couldn’t help but wonder who would want to see her. She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who would. Maybe it was someone to see about the family’s state of affairs, or to handle a further investigation in regards to her mother. 

As she thought and Vincent looked for a loose handkerchief she knew he was unlikely to find, another knock sounded, this time right outside of her door. 

Vincent’s eyes widened and he stumbled backward, throwing a regretful look her way. 

He tucked himself away in some corner faster that she could mouth a silent, “It’s alright.” She’d have to tell him later, after she sent this mystery visitor away. 

In lieu of another knock, a familiar voice sounded from outside the door. “Katherine? Can I come in? I need to see you.”

And then Daniel opened the door and entered the room without waiting for a response and she got up from her bed with a huff, grateful that she was still in the clothes she’d passed out in and not in her nightgown.  

“You should not be here,” she said, her voice sharp as she did her best to leave no room for questioning. 

He ignored her, a frantic look in his eyes. 

“I think we should get married,” he announced, the words spoken too loudly, echoing off the walls, ringing in Katherine’s ears. 

“And I think you should leave.” She stood as she spoke, trying her best to look dignified. It was a difficult feat to achieve after having just woken up from being passed out for a day.

His brow furrowed. “No, we need to do this now, you do not have much time left. You should hear the rumors spreading about you already.”

“I do not care what they are saying,” she said, taking a firm step towards him, forcing him to move back towards the door. “And it is none of your concern.”

“I will bring you security,” he said, apparently attempting to bargain with her for her hand. 

She saw it in his eyes, saw how nervous he looked, and instantly recognized what he really meant. It was the other way around, of course it was. 

He was scared and he knew her. That’s all he needed, just anything safe and familiar. He needed something to go according to plan and she was his plan. 

But she couldn’t be that anymore. She couldn’t be someone’s security blanket, withering away after being chosen just because she was there. 

“I’ll think about it,” she spat as she turned and fled, feet kicking out in long steps as she ran to fight against tripping on her skirts. 

She ran and she ran, just trying to get away from the house. 

She’d have to live there. She hadn’t even thought that far, hadn’t considered what that would mean.

She’d be expected to move to the master bedroom. To sleep in her parents' bed, the bed they lay in as they loathed each other. The bed her mother had been brought to the brink in, forced to sleep aside the man she loathed. 

She wondered if her father had ever brought his mistress there. She wondered if her mother even would have cared. 

She doubted it. 

She was barely aware of where she was until she was looking out at the river. 

It felt like the last time she’d been here had been lifetimes ago. It was before any of this had really begun, before her father’s death had even fully occurred to her. Before she knew her mother’s heart, knew the fate that was slowly but surely closing in on her. 

It was before she’d known about Vincent, although he’d known her. Better than most ever had. 

Of course, he’d been Daniel at the time. And she’d still been angry. 

Maybe she still was angry. She wasn’t entirely sure she knew how to stop. 

The sound of footsteps crunching loose rocks underfoot filled her ears and she felt her shoulders sag, some of her tension bidding her farewell for a few moments. 

She knew who it was. She didn’t even have to look, not that looking would have helped. 

He was still wearing Harvey’s face when he found her by the river. 

She remembered the last time, when he was Daniel and she felt like someone cared for the first time in a long time. 

She supposed someone had. 

His voice was low and calm. Even if it hadn’t been, she knew it would have soothed her. “I could stay, you know,” he said, in that horrible cruel voice that he managed to turn kind as he borrowed it.  “If you wanted me to.”

“What about Harvey?”

“Evelyn has been trying to convince me to let her ship him off, put him on a boat where they’ll find him after they set sail and hope he never comes back. He probably would come back, eventually, but that’s a matter for later.”

She thought on it and knew that even with him there, this would still be a prison. “I don’t want you to stay.”

She watched him try and fail to hide the way he absolutely crumpled at her words. “Oh. Of course, whatever you’d like…”

“I don’t think I want to stay either,” she said, her words tinged with fear. 

She didn’t think it was fear of leaving, not anymore. The thing that sparked a primal fear inside of her was staying, of getting swept under by the same current that had taken her mother. She could brave a thousand unknown horizons if it meant never feeling that, never looking at a daughter she loved and knowing that she would be dragged under all the same. 

His head perked up. “What?”

“I’ve had enough of this place. Of these people. For years I’ve been talking about running off, it was about time I bucked up and did it. I will not become my mother.”

He almost seemed like he didn’t believe her. Like he was too scared to. 

A wry, disbelieving chuckle escaped him. “Anne left a day too early.”

She laughed, a real one, at the idea that this was anything like what she and Anne had pretended to actually want and at the hope that still wormed its way into his tone. “Anne never really meant it. Neither of us did. I think that’s part of what scared her off, I stopped being too frightened to do anything.”

It wasn’t true, not really. She hadn’t stopped being frightened. The other fears had just gotten bigger, the fear of leaving barely seeming like anything anymore. 

“Where are you going to go?” she asked, focusing on keeping her voice level, no expectation laced within it. 

He shrugged. “I think Evelyn is leaving again, I’ll probably just follow her. It’s what I usually do.”

“But you were gonna stay with me?”

“I could probably convince her to hang around for a while.”

“And when a while passed”

He always seemed so shy when pressed like this, eyes glancing up at her and then darting back away when their gazes met. “I don’t know. I always wanted to settle down, I think she’d understand. I’m not even sure she’d pretend to put up a fight if I told her you were coming with us, she knows how badly I’ve wanted this. Wanted someone.” she saw the hope shining in his eyes, even as they looked away from her. “Evelyn just wants to keep moving, I think without me to drag her down she’d never stop.”

“You don’t drag her down,” she insisted immediately. 

“Don’t I?”

“No,” she insisted, absolutely certain of it. “You anchor her, maybe, but you could never drag her down.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You’d never drag someone down. I don’t think you have it in you. I think you’d drown yourself trying to help someone else swim.”

“She says that too,” he said fondly. “She worries about me too much, I think. Maybe that’s what drags her down then, all that worry. That’s something I like about you. You don’t worry about me. You trust me to do things, trust that I won’t mess them all up.”

She stared at him, watched him refuse to meet her gaze, kicking at the rocks under his feet. It tended to take a couple of tries to move the rock how he wanted it, still unfamiliar limbs not quite cooperating with him. 

Somewhere in her, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. And yet still, the words, “I do worry about you,” escaped her mouth. 

He deflated as they did. “Right. Of course you do. That’s fine, I can prove myself. I don’t know what you guys talked about but it’s going to be different, I’m not going to mess up anything this time. I could be a really good human, I promise I could.”

“It’s not that,” she swore, and she could tell that he didn’t believe her. “I think it just comes with loving someone.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide and locked onto hers. 

He blinked, slowly and carefully, and part of her wished they weren’t Harvey’s eyes looking back at her. 

She wished she remembered what he truly looked like better, that her perception of him hadn’t been so colored by fear. 

She’d see him again, she decided, and she would meet him with softness. 

She wasn’t sure anyone had given him that before. 

“I worry about you too,” he said, his voice fragile. 

She smiled, blinking away tears as she leaned over and took his hand.

It shook slightly beneath hers, his palm warm and his fingers curled tentatively around hers. 

He squeezed her hand, trying to create some semblance of reassurance for her, despite his obvious nerves. 

And that proved to be too much. Tears escaped her suddenly, emotions overwhelming her as she looked up at someone she’d know in any body and watched him give himself to her. 

Her knees felt weak but before she could think to move, his arms were engulfing her, pulling her face into his chest, holding her up without her so much as asking. 

She felt the dampness in her hair of his own tears falling and held him harder, giving him all the comfort she could with weak arms. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, on that shore, holding one another up. All Kate knew was that when they left, they left together.

[patternedtape]

having a hyperfixation on games with small fandoms is actually the worst because what am i supposed to do when i've *literally* watched every playthrough of it that's on youtube and played it myself nineteen times and basically know more about it than the developers themselves ???????

[thejazzywaffles]

Video Game Poll VIII

As September begins, a looming shadow overtakes my gaming backlog... and the only light is the full moon. That's right, it's time for a SPOOKY game poll!

Unlike the previous polls, this poll will have multiple winners chosen. Lots of spookiness to go around!

After this poll, I will only be posting one more poll, which will be the poll for which game I play LAST this year. So leave your suggestions for what games you really really like that you want more people to play! I wanna end the year on a good note. To help folks narrow it down, I've also posted a sample from my backlog, which you can find here:

We're in the home stretch!

[super-shapeshifter-showdown]

[lesbiantvfish]

wth it’s hat in times 7th anniversary?? I almost missed it I don’t have anything planned..heres messy sketches uwaaaaaaaa!!! Happy anniversary!!!!!!!

[schro4444]

is this really worth the favor that toichi and yukiko owe you, sharon?

[perseidlion]

How the Cat King Got His Groove Back (Ongoing, soft E)

The sky over Port Townsend was slate gray as it often was for weeks on end in the winter. The air was damp and heavy, with the ocean breeze cutting right through even the warmest jackets. Winter was usually free of snow in the Pacific Northwest, but the endless stretch of gray and drizzle was just as depressing as any deep blanket of snow. Perhaps moreso, because at least in snowy climes, the sun occasionally came out to play. 

The Cat King’s cannery was drafty and cold. Even his loyal subjects had abandoned him for spots beneath houses and under staircases where they huddled together for warmth.

It had been about a month since the Dead Boy Detectives had come to town and stirred up everything like a whirlwind. Cat had felt more energized than he had in decades, and not just because one of said detectives was curiously handsome and fascinating. 

But in their wake, they’d left an eerie calm. Their time in town had been short, but they had a reputation for a reason. They’d solved nearly a dozen cases, small and large in their short time. Some of the cases had been outstanding for decades. They’d also vanquished Esther Finch, the powerful and vain witch who had been causing trouble in town longer than the Cat King had ruled. 

Esther was a scourge who crossed lines even some of the darkest creatures would not. Plus, she’d beaten him to death with her cane, taking one of his precious lives in the process. Which was just…so rude.  Cat would be lying if he said he didn’t miss her a little - if only for the chaos she brought. She was a piece of shit, but she was a piece of shit who kept life interesting. 

And things were just so…quiet without her particular brand of chaos. 

And without him.

Cat stretched his toes out and off the edge of the stack of palettes that served as his throne. He was draped in a heavy black fur coat to try and hold back the chill. When he exhaled a deep-chested sigh, his breath condensed like cigarette smoke. 

He felt numb. He knew he should get up and at least use his magic to kindle a fire in an oil drum or envelop himself in a protective haze of magic. But the cold that pricked his skin and the draft that trickled between the fur of his coat at least let him feel something. He’d been considering the possibility of moving for a good long while, but couldn’t will his limbs to do more than shift a bit to make sure his body was covered by his coat. 

Cat would swear up and down that he was an independent creature, one who went where he pleased and made love to whoever he liked. But the truth was, he was a profoundly lonely creature who covered up that loneliness with tricks and flirtations. 

He wasn’t fully a cat. When he transformed into his feline form to join the feral colony of Port Townsend, they all knew it was him. They treated him with deference and respect, but they also othered him. He could be human whenever he wanted, which set him apart even more than his position.

Cat wasn’t fully human, either. To the residents of Port Townsend, he was known as the town’s slutty weirdo who was always followed by feral cats. They were used to him by now, but just because they didn’t hassle him didn’t mean he was one of them. His dual form meant he was trapped between two worlds, only really at home with other creatures who had a foot in both worlds. And most of them, he’d already alienated or had some sort of beef with - or were just not creatures whose company he found entertaining. The result was, he didn’t really have any friends in town to speak of, which only added to his loneliness. 

Finally, Cat got up the energy to drag himself to his feet. He took a series of lazy, heavy steps down off the platform, his fur coat dragging along the dirty ground. As he walked aimlessly through the warehouse, he chased echoes of memories. 

First, he passed the stain of blood on the ground where his previous body had been beaten to death by Esther. The reminder of that pain made him wince involuntarily. But then he saw echoes of Edwin when he caught the first hints of lust in his eyes, followed by the indignant British snark of him protesting his punishment. He closed his eyes and remembered what a pair of ghostly lips brushing his cheeks felt like when Edwin came to say goodbye. 

Cat turned and caught his reflection in an old, half-broken mirror propped against one wall and partially covered by a dropcloth. Slowly, he turned to face the mirror head-on. He lifted a hand to summon his magic, paused, rethinking it for half a moment, then he swirled his wrist.

The purple fog that accompanied his transformations with an affectation - a magician’s trick to make the whole thing seem more impressive. His magic in its natural state was subtle and quiet, as befitted a creature of stealth. The shift to his body happened in a blink. 

Edwin’s reflection stared back at him from the mirror, one hand still held delicately in the air, clad in a brown leather glove that matched his brown overcoat. He was a perfect copy, save golden, slitted eyes. He stepped up to the mirror and swept the gloved hand across the surface to clear it of some of the dust. Then he tugged off his glove and caressed his own cheek. He closed his eyes and let his fingertips creep over his lips. He nuzzled his own palm and exhaled warm breath against his fingertips.

When Cat opened his eyes, it was Edwin’s green eyes gazing back at him. Edwin’s face full of sadness and longing. Edwin’s face aching with loneliness. He pulled off the other glove and held his own hand, tracing knuckles and fingertips. He held his own hand and squeezed it. 

Keep reading on Ao3

(This fic was originally a short called Ennui that just consisted of the first chapter. Now it's an ongoing fic with shapeshifting shenanigans and some light Catcrow elements, though the shapeshifting/identity swap stuff is the focus over the ship.)

[clefdesoll]

an itch hit me past midnight

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Shapeshifting Detective - Part 8

cw: parental death, grief, referenced murder, police brutality, slow burn, more tags will be added as the story continues

male shapeshifter x fem character

word count: 3k

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 (Final Part)

Kate had no idea how long she’d been in here or if the others had been taken into custody. She’d been waiting for hours, locked away in a room with no windows, no clock, no way of telling the time at all. 

Her wrists were sore. Her brain kept circling back to it over and over again. They were unbearably sore, both of them shackled to the table to prevent her from running off. They were irritating at first but after a while, she came to appreciate them, their unyielding weight helping to keep her present. 

She didn’t know what was happening or how long it had been or what would come of her but she knew her wrists were sore. 

Eventually, even they were not enough. She’d been able to stomach a lot in the last days, but sitting still and alone was not one of them. 

She had nothing to throw herself at, no justice to find. She was just here. Alone, in a room, waiting for the dust to settle. Waiting to see how she would come out of this. If she would come out of this. 

The creak of the door pulled her back to herself and her head jerked up to find whoever had come to break the infernal silence. 

When he entered the room she felt like she could breathe again. Her detective walked up to the table she was chained to and suddenly everything was going to be alright. 

“Harvey,” she said, a swell of relief filling her chest. 

When their eyes met she realized her mistake. “A bit familiar, don’t you think miss? Wonder where you picked up that habit?”

It wasn’t her detective at all. 

His dishevelment told a different story than the one she was used to. Gone was the man who just didn’t quite fit his clothes despite having shaped himself to belong in them, always sitting slightly askew with his wild hair and off-center tie. 

No, this man looked like he’d walked through hell, eyes bloodshot and his stubble growing unruly. 

She had no idea how much he knew about the situation, how much he’d been told about his mysterious doppelganger. The vitriol present on his face said he probably knew more than was good for her. 

He leaned over the table, looming over her, and Kate did her best to pull away with her hands chained, tethering her down. 

“I don’t know you,” she spat out, incapable of feigning demure answers despite knowing it was undeniably in her best interest. 

“Really? That’s odd, some people at the station say we’ve gotten quite close. Congratulated me on latching onto the killer so fast. Wasn’t that clever of me? How did I find you out so quickly, I wonder?”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Then why did you confess to it.”

Of course he believed her mother. She certainly hadn’t done much to earn any trust with him. It stung anyway. “I didn’t. She’s lying.”

“Now now. Your mother is an upstanding woman, I don’t think she would lie to me. And you…” He grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side, as if to inspect her. She reeled back, pulling herself from his grip, a movement he seemed to find amusing. “Well, I suppose what I think about you depends on how well we know each other. What do you say, Katherine, do we know each other or not?”

He spat her name at her like it was poison. It might as well have been. 

“You’ve questioned me a few times, that’s all.”

“Oh, just a few. I only remember us speaking once but perhaps I’m misremembering. Maybe I wrote it down somewhere. I did find some very interesting notes about you in my office. They were very complimentary, seemed like we’d spoken quite a lot. Can you remind me if that’s true?”

“It was a couple times. That’s all.”

“Consistent. Smart, you shouldn’t be changing your story.”

“You can’t do this,” she insisted. She knew he could, though. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He could do whatever he liked. Who would stop him?

“I promise you I can. You know what I find odd? The way you looked at me when I walked in here. You didn’t look at me like the prime suspect in a murder case who’d only spoken to me a few times. Who were those big, hopeful eyes for? Because I know one thing for damn sure, they weren’t meant for me.”

“You’re insane,” she hissed at him.

His hand snapped up faster than she could track and then her head was being slammed forward into the table in front of her, the world spinning as she pulled back. 

“I’m going to get the truth out of you one way or another,” he snarled. 

“I didn’t do anything,” she sobbed out.

“Maybe you didn’t. At this point, I don’t really give a shit. What was that thing? Are you one of them?”

“I don’t know anything,” she said through gritted teeth. There was no getting out of this, she could see that now. 

“Yes, you do. You’re on its side, the only thing I don’t know is if you’re a piece of shit turncoat human or one of those monsters.”

The door opened and a man you didn’t recognize walked in. Harvey snapped to look at him, snarling out an impatient, “What do you want?”

The newcomer was some other police officer, his hat not quite facing forwards properly and his jacket buttoned up just one button off. 

“Someone wants to see you,” the newcomer said.

“I’m a little fucking busy, actually.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, and faster than either of them could react, he slammed Harvey forward, throwing everything he had into banging his head into the table. 

It knocked him out cold, his body sliding unceremoniously to the floor as Vincent rushed over to her side, a frantic look in his eyes. 

“Evelyn is in the other room,” he said, speaking as fast as he could get the words out. “They started poking around and we couldn’t make them leave. They were gonna find them either way.” He gestured down at the unconscious man below him. “I just untied them and told them no one would believe them, seemed like the best option at the time.”

She tried to move forward, into his space, the shackles stopping her unbecoming display of desperate affection before it could even really begin. 

He seemed unaffected by Kate coming to her senses about the action, wrapping an arm around her and holding her tight to his side. “Let’s get you out of here,” he muttered, and she could feel his chest moving as he spoke. “I don’t want to- Oh my god, are you bleeding?”

He reached for her instantly, his hand cradling her cheek as the other rose to wipe at a drop of blood she hadn’t even noticed, the viscous liquid spreading across her skin. 

He immediately reached for his pockets, muttering angrily under his breath. 

Upon finding nothing he began rooting around in Harvey’s pockets, pulling out both a handkerchief and a key ring victoriously. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he promised, pressing the handkerchief gently to her wound, cleaning it as best he could before beginning to try the first of many keys. “Just hold on a minute.”

“What are we going to tell them?” she asked as he tried key after key, looking warily out towards the rest of the station. 

“You’ll see. I just have to wait for…”

Before he could finish his sentence, all hell broke loose, the sounds of yelling and rushing about filtering through the door. 

“What is that?”

“Our cue.” He said, trying keys as quickly as he could, a slight shake to his hands as he did. Finally, one clicked into place and the cuffs snapped open. 

Kate stood, rubbing her wrists and Vincent gave her a nervous look. “You may want to turn around.”

The words echoed in her ears and before she could really register them, he was changing. The horrible snapping of his bones accompanied itself with the creation of new angles where they shouldn’t be. 

The cracking and shifting noises were drowned out by the noises of chaos that were slowly filling the building, but it did nothing to stop them from reaching her ears. 

She wondered why he had to shift like this. Surely there were more efficient ways to travel from one body to another. Human bodies weren’t that different, seemingly creating a new set of bones and tissues for every one seemed horribly inefficient. 

She thought, perhaps belatedly, that she should be scared. Or at the very least, horrified. And yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to be. 

It hadn’t even really occurred to her, to be honest. Perhaps some of it was due to her current, exhausted, sluggish state. She just hadn’t thought of it, hadn’t considered being afraid. 

Why would she be, asked a little voice in the back of her head. It was just Vincent. 

Instead, bubbling up, slower than they should have, were other feelings. Relief, gratitude, but nothing resembling the revulsion she was sure should be present. 

As he transformed, she was lost in thought completely, busier mulling over the situation than actually watching the seemingly possible transformation. 

He winced at her as soon as he had enough of a face to wince with. “Sorry, you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

Vincent looked more scared than she did, staring at her as if at any moment she might scream and run, never to be seen again. 

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. It didn’t feel like one, like anything close to being either reassuring or a smile, but he seemed to understand the meaning, giving her a quiet, sweet smile back. 

And then he held out his hand, as if to escort her out of the room. She took it and he led her into the chaos. 

Evelyn seemed to be at the epicenter of it all, shouting and throwing things around the station. No one really seemed to know what to do with themselves, trying to calm her while simultaneously acting like if they got too close they might spontaneously combust. 

As she watched the chaos unfold, the comfortable weight at her side disappeared and suddenly she felt very exposed. 

She glanced around nervously and saw Daniel sitting in the corner, a distant look in his eyes. He seemed like he’d be less of a problem than Harvey had been. 

Evelyn drifted over to her and pulled Kate towards her. She went with little protest, leaning into the woman as she was guided to her side. She was the only other person left who didn’t want her locked up, now that Vincent had made himself scarce. There were worse people’s arms to be clinging to. 

As Evelyn argued and Kate stood, unlistening, at her side, she saw Vincent dart back into the interrogation room and she did her best to avoid looking at the door again, keeping as much attention away from there as much as possible. 

She heard the door creak once more but kept her eyes adamantly forward, tensing up even more at the noise. She imagined no one could tell, it was hard to look more tense than she’d already been. 

She heard Evelyn slam her hand down on the table beside her, hard, and guessed someone’s attention had drifted a little too far. 

Kate should be paying more attention, should be helping more with this plan she wasn’t privy to. She just couldn’t draw herself back into the present. It had been too much, she was too tired. 

And then, storming through the doors of the police station with a bang, was her mother. 

Now she was aware of everything, pulling away from her and further back toward Evelyn. 

An arm snaked around her waist and she was grateful for it, grateful for the reminder that at least someone here was on her side, even if it was more for Vincent’s sake than for hers. 

“Why is she free?” her mother asked, looking around frantically, looking more confused than angry, despite the way she’d entered. 

The policemen around her seemed just as confused as to why Kate was standing amongst them, looking around for someone with an explanation and finding no one. You hoped Vincent would be back soon. You had a feeling you’d be thrown right back into the interrogation room if he wasn’t. 

“She killed him,” Kate insisted quietly, sounding unconvincing even to herself. 

Her mother took a step forward and she couldn’t help but flinch. At that, her mother paused, shifting back once more and keeping her distance. 

“You can’t fool them. They know the truth, they believe me.” Her voice sounded strained and distant and Kate couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was just her mind going. Nothing seemed to quite make sense anymore. 

“They do,” she said, slumping further into Evelyn’s side. The woman took her weight without protest, giving her side a little squeeze that she couldn't make sense of. 

“Of course they do! I am a well-respected woman. And who are you? Unmarried, unsociable, why would they believe you?” The words were careful, intentional, but not how they normally were. There was no tact behind them, not really. 

As she yelled at Kate, restrained and unnoticing of the people watching, it occurred to her that this was not, in fact, her mother. Her mother would never make a scene like this and if she did, if she really snapped like she was supposedly doing right now, she would not keep her distance and try her best to avoid frightening Kate. 

Because that’s what she was doing, stepping away, keeping from shouting too loud, keeping the blame from Kate's shoulders as best she could. It was a show, one calculated to harm her as little as possible while revealing the truth to some closed-minded police officers. 

But Vincent was struggling, struggling to make it natural and believable, so she threw him a bone. 

“You can’t fool me,” Kate said loudly, having no problem making it believable. Maybe she should give Vincent some lessons when this was all over. “They’ll see it soon too. I know you killed him.”

“And I would’ve killed you too if I knew how much trouble you’d cause me,” she said with a scoff. 

And then her eyes widened, looking around at where she was, her breath catching in her chest before she turned tail and ran. 

Everyone was too shocked to stop her, quick orders to chase her down being shouted amidst the chaos. 

Most of the officers left, starting the search efforts. Those who remained didn’t seem to know what else to do with Kate, milling around her awkwardly. 

“What are you doing?” Evelyn snapped. “You heard the woman, she’s innocent, don’t you have better things to be doing than terrorizing this poor girl any further.”

They didn’t seem fully convinced but they seemed more frightened of Evelyn than they were wary of Kate. 

She wondered what it would take for them to fully be done with her, be entirely convinced of her innocence. She imagined there was very little at this point. She’d already messed up too badly, broken too many rules. That crime she was guilty of and so they were convinced that something must be wrong. 

She couldn’t bring herself to care any longer. There was no anger left in her. 

Evelyn began to pull her towards the door and she followed like a well-drilled pup. 

Harvey passed them as they attempted to flee and she knew instantly that it was her detective. She was so much better at seeing it now, at recognizing it, even as distant as she felt. 

He smiled at her and then turned towards the rest of the precinct. 

“And that concludes this case. My apologies for keeping this from you, but I felt the ruse was necessary to find the truth. The lovely Miss Katherine here was willing to help, once she heard my plan. Her intention, of course, was to clear her mother of any suspicion. When we cornered her, she told a different tale. I just needed time to settle the case. Fortunately, she seemed set on doing it for me,” he finished with a put-on laugh.

She heard Evelyn sigh beside her and mutter under her breath, just barely loud enough for Kate to hear, “He really is too much.”

Confused murmurs filled the precinct but Vincent did not seem like he wanted to stick around to clear anything up. 

That felt like it was best. She had no idea where the real Harvey had ended up in the chaos or how long they had until he returned. 

She let Vincent lead her off, Evelyn shifting Kate over to him, shouldering most of her weight as they walked. 

She stayed tucked carefully into his side. It felt safe there, secure in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Why didn’t you do that before freeing me?” she asked, much later than she should have, but at least she still had the sense to ask at all. 

He looked away, a sheepish air taking over him. “I didn’t want to keep you locked in there any longer than I had to. The plan was just to incapacitate Harvey but… it wasn’t right.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I got the job done though.”

“Hmm.” And then, perfectly patient, holding out just long enough to not inconvenience them too badly, she collapsed. 

[patternedtape]

thinking about this absolute gem of a video with aislinn and rupert

[samsayswhatever]

The Shapeshifter Glasses

I'm so interested in the glasses that can make ghosts seem like humans. I have so many questions.

Like are those real people's faces? Why wouldn't they wears them more, so Crystal seems less insane? Why not disguise yourself as teenagers? Why is Charles's one white? Why is Edwin's a woman? Did he learn to knit just for this, or is it the only time he gets to knit? Are these faces closer to how they feel inside, or are they random? Can they be different people, or just these people?

What happens if a human puts them on? Has anyone ever seen the human forms disappear when they take off the glasses? Are these more magic items they got in trade for doing a case, or did they hunt them down in order to do a case? Can they change the attire these people are wearing, or are they just stuck with those outfits?

Are they transformed when they are in these bodies? Like, are they seeing the world through taller/shorter eyes, or are they just like psychic appearances that can't be touched? Can they feel anything more in those glasses? Is it like iron that temporarily makes you solid? Is there a time limit to wearing them?

I can keep going, but maybe I shouldn't.

[vampiric-jester]

I recently finished dead boy detectives and I really liked it :D

So I drew the time the Cat King shapeshifted into Charles (with and without whiskers)

[puppyeared]

Pyew!!

[lesbiantvfish]

what if these two that didn’t make it into the final game and never interacted with each other were friends..

[shiocreator]

Redrew the one thing going around with my ocs 👍 ghvhvgj

Original