Tumblr should never publicize follower counts, but they absolutely should publicize following counts. If it listed the total number of people a blog follows, we would Immediately be able to weed out bots who were THIIIIS close to passing the Turing Test. A new follower has a non-selfie photo for their pfp, a normal sounding bio, and a healthy feed of reblogs, but they follow 12,000 people? Bot. Maybe the empty blog with a default icon and no header image is brand new and the owner hasn't updated it yet, but they've followed 500 people in quick succession, so no, they're just a bot.
I've been on tumblr for a little over 3 years, and I follow like 70 people total, most of them are AFK, so more like 30 active follows. If you have more than 100, you probably just like having fresh content whenever you check, but if you have more than 1000, you will never convince me that you're anything but a bot.
@starsarebleeding put me onto the idea of getting an AI to write fanfic, and @thesedarkcafedays just reminded me, so I asked one to write a Chenford fic. It took some tweaks to make it realise 'Chenford' wasn't a town, and HERE YOU GO. Fan writers are still safe.
***
Tim and Lucy were two cops in the LAPD - two of the best, in fact. They had been partners for three years, but their relationship had always been strictly professional.
One day, Tim and Lucy were sent on a case to investigate a suspicious character. When they arrived at the location, they found a man who had been shot. Tim and Lucy worked together to save the man's life and were successful.
When the excitement of the moment subsided, Tim and Lucy found themselves looking into each other's eyes, and it was then that they both realized that they had fallen in love.
From that day on, Tim and Lucy spent every moment they could together, both on and off the job. They shared their deepest secrets and fears, and soon they were inseparable.
One night, while they were on patrol, Tim took Lucy to the beach and proposed. She said yes, and they were married soon after.
Now, five years later, Tim and Lucy are still madly in love. They still work together as partners in the LAPD, but their relationship has grown deeper and more meaningful over the years. They are a true example of how two people can come together in a partnership and fall in love.
I'm getting a little scared. It gets better when you feed it...
Sergeant Tim Bradford had been an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department for over 10 years. He loved his job, but he had been feeling a little jaded lately. He was starting to feel like he was in a rut and needed something new to keep him going.
Enter Officer Lucy Chen. She was new to the force, and she had a bright energy that seemed to light up the room when she walked in. Tim was immediately taken by her, but he tried to keep his feelings at bay.
One day, the two of them were assigned to go undercover as a couple in order to catch a criminal. They had to pretend to be in a relationship, and it was difficult for Tim to keep his feelings in check.
As the mission went on, Tim and Lucy began to develop real feelings for each other. They were able to let their guards down and just be themselves around each other.
The mission eventually ended, and Tim and Lucy were able to go back to their normal lives. However, the feelings that had grown between them had not gone away.
They decided to take a chance and start dating, and their relationship quickly blossomed. They were both happier than they had been in a long time, and it felt like a dream come true for both of them.
Tim and Lucy were eventually married, and they remain happily together to this day. The undercover mission that brought them together turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to them.
I’m saying fuck it, I have a lot of chapters done, and nearly just as many days until Halloween. So long as I can finish writing this before the end of the month, I can release one chapter a day. SO HERE WE GO!
(This was likely posted before under ‘Mercenary of the Night’ buuuut given the content change later in the story, I felt a different name would be more appropriate ;) )
This is the continuation from ‘Smoke and Blood’ which you can find HERE
Edited by @the-wild-ego
“Shhh, you won’t feel it. I promise.”
You lay in your bed, eyes locked on the white ceiling overhead. His voice continued to echo in your mind. His touch on your skin still lingering, and his red eyes burning into yours.
It had been a couple months since the nightmare in the garage. You’d never told anyone what it was you saw. Who would believe you anyway? A vampire and his clone made of smoke, duking it out. Yes, that would go over really well with the police. Your parents would be getting the call about your trip to the psyche hospital shortly after.
If it weren’t for what you knew, and what was still going on, you’d have let it all go by now.
Except you knew the answer to the ongoing problem in the city.
People were being found on the side of the road, in their homes, and at their jobs, in a coma and missing a large supply of their blood.
The police had put out a warning that anyone traveling at night should go in pairs. To only go out if they absolutely had to.
There seemed to be a new person found in a coma, every week, sometimes two.
“...When I’m done you’ll take a nice long nap, and then you'll wake up in a month… or a year…”
You were 100% certain, that the vampire you’d barely escaped from, was the cause for these comas. How he was doing it, you couldn’t figure out. Was it from how he drained their blood? His eyes had held you paralyzed, could he do more than that with his abilities?
The big picture in your mind had only the centerpieces, and you couldn’t help but want to finish the puzzle.
Did you really want to do that, though? Did you really want to throw yourself back into the dark, unknown, world that they belonged to?
You’d been asking yourself this every night since that garage had exploded. It was the question that made it impossible to sleep.
Which, unfortunately, was your answer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you hadn’t questioned your sanity before, you were certainly questioning it now.
Once you’d settled your resolve on investigating, you’d decided the best place to start was where you’d last seen them.
Which is why you stood on the edge of the abandoned, now destroyed, house’s property.
The small explosion had done a considerable amount of damage. Before, the house had simply been a mess, with boarded-over doors and windows, a lawn that was slowly becoming a jungle, and a collection of neighborhood graffiti art.
Now it was a charred mass with some of the structure still in place. The doorways were still distinct, a chimney and parts of the wall it was attached to were still standing, and the main floor wasn’t entirely collapsed into the small basement beneath.
There were absolutely no remains left of the garage, except for some pieces of glass, and the concrete floor with scorch marks nearly making it entirely black.
Hugging yourself for warmth, you stepped lightly over to where the garage used to be. It was unnerving to know you’d been mere minutes away from being blown to bits.
‘Or sent to the hospital in a coma.’
Between the two, you knew the explosion was the worst possible outcome. Except the explosion only happened because Smokey Twin had come along to interrupt Leather Fangs.
You shook your head at the childish names you were using for them. You’d heard the vampire address the other guy as NateMare. The name was so odd, but then, the guy could turn himself into a cloud of smoke. An odd name worked for an odd person.
Thinking about smoke, you could still smell it coming off the building remains. Even after a couple months in the open air, it was faintly there. Enough so to make your nose itch.
You sneezed.
“Gesundheit.”
“Thanks.”
You froze, suddenly recognizing the voice.
“Um-”
“Hold your breath.”
A thick cloud of smoke rose from the ground, blackening your vision as it encased you.
Doing as told, you pressed your lips together and plugged your nose. For good measure, you closed your eyes. Already they’d begun to sting and water.
Unable to see, and barely able to hear, you were awash in panic at the sensation of your feet leaving the ground. You were being moved, kidnapped.
You’d never timed yourself on holding your breath, now you wish you had. It couldn’t have been that long, yet your lungs were already screaming for more oxygen.
The smoke cloud must have sensed your breaking point, as you felt the movement become fast, forcing your body in a kind of slanted position.
Just as you opened your mouth, you were dropped onto a hard surface.
Gasping and coughing, you rubbed at your eyes to try and clear them of your tears.
As the bleariness cleared you began to recognize where you’d been dropped. A smooth plaster floor with leaves, a small dirty puddle, and a black, weather-beaten lawn chair.
This was an apartment balcony, set two floors above the building’s entrance.
This was your apartment balcony.
The last of the tears gone you looked higher and found your captor sitting in the lawn chair, “You should really keep your curtains closed more often.”
Awkwardly shuffling back from him, you croaked out, “Y-you’ve been stalking me?”
His dark-brown eyes rolled skyward, “No. Just keeping tabs. I was hoping that fanged freak would come back to finish his work.”
From his bitter tone, you could tell he meant it and was disappointed that his hopes had been unfounded.
Finally getting your limbs to coordinate, you stood and put your back to the balcony doors, “Gee, thanks for the consideration. What’s with the smoke trip? You couldn’t just talk to me out in the open? You know, as a normal person would?”
“I’m not normal, so why pretend to be normal? It’s not nearly as much fun.” His lips curled into a smirk as he rose from the chair.
There’d been a safe amount of distance between you and him, back when you’d first seen him in the garage. With him standing this close, you could feel the heat radiating off him. You could see the lightest smudges of soot at the corners of his eyes. You definitely smelled the layers of smoke that wafted from him, some smelling like a campfire, another inhale and it was the sickly scent of melted plastic.
You blinked and found your face being tilted up. A warm hand wrapped around your throat, and the ending notes of a hummed melody quieting.
You tugged against restraints that were just below burning against your skin, holding your arms against your body, “What are you doing?”
He didn’t even twitch at the high note of panic in your voice.
“I’m not just a pretty face that blows smoke. I have some other tricks. Unfortunately, none of them are helpful in vampire hunting. So I’m going to need your cooperation for a while.”
Where the skin of his hand touched your throat, a searing, burning sensation began to spread. You struggled harder against the restraints, gasping against the pain. A scream built up along with the heat of his hand. Beads of sweat rolled along your face, merging with your tears.
His lips were over yours, muffling your scream. From below anyone passing would see a couple brashly being intimate.
The blistering heat cooled, leaving you drenched in sweat and shivering from the wind that touched you.
Stepping back NateMare evaluated his handiwork, “Sorry about the burn, but I didn’t think you’d agree with my plan just by asking.”
The smoke restraining your arms dissipated. Able to move your hands you gingerly touched where his hand had been. You anticipated a hand shaped brand on your throat. Your fingers were only met with smooth skin.
“What was that? What did you do?” Drained of energy from your struggle, your hand shook as you pulled out your phone.
Switching it to the camera, you angled it towards yourself.
Around your throat was a band, shaped to resemble a chain. In the afternoon light, you thought you saw it shift with each of your movements. It moved as though it had the weight of a real chain, settling just at the base of your neck. When you held still, it could easily pass for a tattoo.
“That is to encourage your cooperation. Help me sniff out this bloodsucker, and I’ll get rid of it.” He shrugged while strolling over to the balcony banister.
You swallowed thickly, “And if I told you to go fuck yourself?”
This got him to grin. Smoke ebbed from his eyes, thickening the soot smudges, “Trust me, you don’t want me yanking on that leash. See you around.”
With a wink, his body broke into a cloud of smoke and took off.
I am SO SO SO SO CLOSE TO FINISHING THIS!!! If I’m correct, I have only two or three more chapters to write. I’ve been sitting on this for a YEAR, and the original concept was so simple!!!!! *wails in agony over my own procastination/lack of inspiration*
In other news, in this chapter, I thought I’d play around with NateMare and give him a...different...side. I was seriously excited about this, so I hope you all get a bit of thrill from it too ~
WARNING: Some of the descriptions are in the gore category.
Edited by @the-wild-ego
PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX
There was a tiny ‘POP’ and the rest of the world came back into focus.
The little bat clung to the front of your shirt, it’s claws lightly scraping against your skin. It’s ears twitched and swiveled, catching the noises all around it, even as its tiny black eyes peered up at you.
Disoriented, you reflexively rested a hand on its back and used your thumb to brush over its head. It gave a squeak, and raised its head to rub against your thumb, encouraging you to continue.
This lessened your unease as you looked around and took in your surroundings.
You had somehow managed to walk out of the garden, and right into a graveyard.
The hedge wall, and the opening you’d come through were just behind you. In front of you, were a collection of headstones and grave markers. None of them looked recent, and were well marked by age from the grass growing around their edges and the cracks that had formed. You guessed there to be at least 20 graves.
“Why, oh why, little friend, did you bring me here?” you couldn’t get yourself to speak louder than a whisper. With vampires and Phantom Sirens being a thing, you didn’t want to learn if zombies could be a reality too.
The bat squeaked, but gave nothing else in lieu of an answer.
Looking towards the opening you’d come through, you muttered, “I should probably head back and find NateMare, he’s going to be livid.” The thought of NateMare’s temper, and the heat that came with it, made you shudder.
If he was going to be mad, then why rush off to get punished?
“I’ll just, take a stroll and see if there’s any clues here first.”
That settled, you tiptoed towards the first row of graves.
-/-/-/-
He was enjoying himself.
In the past few centuries, he’d made minimal contact with other beings like himself. He’d found they were too troublesome, or worse, sentimental. Their prolonged exposure to humanity, or just the base of their creation, had made the newer generation softer.
There were four strong ones that held potential, but Mercer would leave them be.
One had a penchant for stabbing anything that moved.
One would want to dissect him at the first given opportunity.
One would enjoy nothing better than to fight him for the sake of the fight.
And the last one, well, he had a few too many tricks up his sleeve that Mercer didn’t feel enticed to learn about. Particularly not when he could send an entire army of deranged brethren to swarm him.
He couldn’t even bother with the two others of his generation. They’d forgone their base nature, deciding to befriend humans instead of feeding off them as the food source they were. The three had agreed to not interfere with each other’s business, so long as their boundaries were respected. Mercer had made it a point to know exactly where those boundary lines were, lest he have to deal with the headache that was a lecture and possibly a slap on the wrist.
He had almost thought his little brother, NateMare, to be one of a sentimental nature as well. Having interrupted his feeding, and nearly blowing them both up in that garage.
He’d been delighted when NateMare had proven him wrong.
Mercer had been keeping tabs on NateMare this past month. He’d watched as he kicked around the human he’d saved. Going even as far as putting a collar on them and forcing them to do his work for him.
Mercer had gotten a good laugh out of their discovery of his origins. He’d nearly forgotten that love letter he’d left on his host’s home. Oh the terror on their faces had been delicious.
Licking his lips, he allowed himself the quietest of chuckles.
NateMare didn’t hear the rustle from the tree behind him. He was too intent on scorching some sense into the oblivious human.
He could only blame himself for his carelessness.
He grunted from the force of the impact as he was smashed into a tree. The tree’s trunk splintered and broke, falling to the ground.
NateMare turned to smoke in order to break from Mercer’s grasp, before he rushed around to try and get behind Mercer. Unfortunately, his smoke form was dark enough that Mercer could track his movements.
Showing his elongated canines in a grin, Mercer laughed, “I was wondering if you were going to come sniffing around at some point. But I didn’t think it would take you this long.”
“It wasn’t like you left us a bunch of bright, neon arrows to point out which way to go.” NateMare quipped back as he reformed and made a swing for Mercer’s face.
Mercer danced out of the way, “That would have taken all the fun out of the hunt. I do appreciate that you brought a little snack for me, that was very considerate of you.”
Mercer dodged a few more punches, then took up the offensive. When NateMare didn’t turn to smoke, he managed to pepper in blows to his body. He didn’t hold back, making sure each connection was felt. With a particularly strong uppercut, Mercer sent NateMare sailing back again.
When he landed, Mercer listened to the air rush out of his lungs.
Barely touching on his speed, Mercer was beside him, his hand wrapped around NateMare's throat and squeezed to cut off his oxygen, “Really, little brother? Is this all you can manage to do? I was hoping for a good and proper sibling brawl.” Just to ignite NateMare’s ire, Mercer pouted down at him.
NateMare was certain he had at least two ribs broken that were trying to heal. He didn’t remember taking a hit to his face, but his nose was definitely broken. At least three of his teeth had cracked from that uppercut. He barely registered the taste of his blood as it trickled over his tongue and down his throat.
The term ‘little brother’ was a grater against his temper. Yes, this asshole was technically his elder in the chain of their creations, and yes, Mercer was winning so far, but he would be damned to give up and let this leech think he was the superior.
He didn’t touch on his source often, hating the recovery afterwards. It would be a lot of bed rest and aching muscles for days. Regardless, there was no better time than now to let loose.
Mercer’s brow furrowed, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the nape of his neck. Had it gotten warmer?
NateMare clamped his hands around Mercer’s wrist. The sound of sizzling and the stench of sour meat mixed with smoke filtered into the air.
Mercer had a high pain tolerance, and flames had never been an issue. Yet he could feel the sting of his skin blistering in NateMare’s grip. His lips drew back in a pained, irritated snarl.
NateMare finally forced Mercer’s hand loose. Drawing in air he grinned, “What’s wrong? Not bothered by a little Hell fire are you?”
Mercer cursed and ripped his hand free. Leaping back to keep some distance Mercer inspected his wrist. The skin was blackened, and blistered. Already his powers pulsed to the injury to repair it. Letting it fall to his side, Mercer tsked, “I’ll admit, I didn’t think your nature ran so deep. Here I was thinking you were all hot air and smoke, now I see. You’re a pretty little onion, with a shiny smooth skin concealing the rotten layers of darkness underneath. You call yourself a Phantom Siren, when in reality, you’re a Hell Banshee off it’s leash.”
NateMare grunted as his ribs snapped back into place. The cartilage in his nose returned to its original form, and his teeth filled themselves in. Rapid healing was always a bitch.
While his given injuries fixed themselves, the rest of his body began to burn away.
Fat from his right cheek bubbled, forcing the skin to rupture and allow it to melt freely to the ground. The muscles along his jaw cooked, dried, and flaked away from his skull. His eye made a sickening pop as it burst and emptied the socket.
Slowly NateMare got to his feet, leaving puddles of his liquified fat on the barren earth. Staggering a bit as his body adjusted to redistribution of his weight, he flexed his right hand and gave it a shake. This caused more skin, fat, and muscle to fall from his bones. Bones that were black, and reflected light from the moon.
His remaining eye burst into blue black flames, his empty socket smoked from within. Those same flames sparked and caught his hair. In an instant it was impossible to tell if his hair was on fire, or if the fire had become his hair.
NateMare rolled his shoulders, and breathed out a plume of smoke. His lips stretched into a grimacing smile, his voice was raspy and hollow as he spoke,“ I really shouldn’t be surprised that you know that name. I will admit to being a bit disappointed that you didn’t react more. Now how about a rematch, Big Brother.”
