#smsn.snippets

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

The Long Halloween - Teaser #1

DC Event Week - announcement & fic list here

pairing: mermaid dick grayson x witch reader (gender neutral)

"The ships still come in and out," he'd said lowly, his arms crossed as he stared out towards the rolling waves. "But folks are getting antsy - scared. Some of the buyers want their shit moved other ways. You know, coming through the city on trucks instead."

"And does that work?" you'd asked absently, stacking money neatly as you half listened.

"Not really," he'd admitted. "It's all still taken to the docks, and… well, you know."

As the boat rocks and you shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the conversation, you can't help but let the mariner's words spin around your head just a bit more. You can't help but picture it in your head - dock workers, moving through the thick fog that filters through the night, wandering off the wooden edge and into the water like those sailors, pulled and pulled and tugged under by something monstrous. 

Droplets of rain begin to fall from the darkened, thunderous sky and you shiver as you stare down into the water for a moment before crouching. Slowly, carefully, you stick your arm through the railing of your boat and let your fingers dip just below the surface, feeling the icy waters for a moment before pulling back and inspecting your hand.

"Don't go in the water," people had said. "There's something wrong with it. There's something cursed about it." You hum in thought as you try to rub warmth back into your fingers, the freezing sensation from the water sticking to you and travelling up your arm as the rain begins to fall steadily. 

You've heard the stories, you know what Gotham is - a festering breeding ground for illegal magic, with its waters serving as a dumping ground for the pollution that comes with it. Years of it have turned the harbour into a magical chemical wasteland, and you shudder as the coldness seeps further into your skin and begins to turn your fingertips blue. 

"Don't go in the water," people had said, lest you find yourself developing a glowing blue-green tinge and struggling to breathe in air above water - lest you freeze over and stumble back in and fall down into the depths.

Don't go in the water - it will never let you out.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

The Long Halloween - Teaser #4

DC Event Week - announcement & fic list here

pairing: frankenstein's monster conner kent x reader (gender neutral)

Kon takes a step outside, moving past the threshold of the lab for the first time in his life. When he glances behind him, Tim's got his back turned and is thoroughly enamoured by whatever he's doing. He could leave, Kon thinks. Right now, right now, right now.

But then there's you, strolling down the street and looking at him like he's been caught.

"What are you doing out here, Kon?" you say quietly, not quite chastising, but wary nonetheless. He looks at you and frowns while you stand in front of him and block out the view of the city behind you. 

"I was just looking," he says with a huff, his voice scratchy and unused. He cranes his head to look past you out toward the freedom of the city and you cock your head to the side to follow his movement. 

"Mhm," you respond, disbelief clear in your voice. "Come inside with me, Kon. Come on, we'll talk about it." You brush past him, then, moving to duck under his arm where it grips onto the doorframe so that you can slip inside. He hears you say some sort of greeting to Tim and he listens for a response that he knows will never come. 

You've left him there, standing a single step away from the outside world. A bitterness begins to swirl in Kon's gut when he thinks that you must have done it because you're so sure that he'll follow, that he'll never step out of line. But then he glances back into the lab and sees you sitting on one of the tables, letting your legs swing back and forth as you watch him.

But maybe, he thinks as he loosens his grip on the doorframe, letting the door shut closed gently as he retreats back into the safety of the lab. Maybe you just trust him to make his own choice.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

The Long Halloween - Teaser #2

DC Event Week - announcement & fic list here

pairing: poltergeist jason todd x reader (gender neutral)

There's a part of you, you think, that died with him, that crumbled to dust and lays somewhere in a street hidden in a corner of this endless, cursed city.

You should've left, you know, but you couldn't, because the only pieces that you have left of Jason are Gotham - the Bowery and the streets of it, the bricks of the alleyways and the cracked concrete of the sidewalks. The apartment that you'd planned on getting with him, with its rickety fire escape and paint peeling from the walls. All these pieces, all these reasons to cling to and keep you here. It's like a curse, this place, and you were trapped before you ever even realized it.

You wonder sometimes if Jason knew that, even when you didn't. If he knew, all of those nights you spent crying and pleading with him to be safe, to be careful, to not go out there to die. You wonder if he knew that it was some kind of curse, that this city traps you and ensnares you and chokes the outside world.

Not that it matters, you think dully, now that he's dead.

"Is this because of the Red Hood?" your editor asks bluntly. You blink.

"Pardon?"

"The new novels, the - the horrors that you write now. Is it because of the phantom?" she clarifies. You straighten where you sit, shifting in your seat.

"They're just… ghost stories," you say slowly. "The Red Hood's not - he's not real."

"I'm not saying he is," she sighs. "I'm just… Jason died and that changed you and I get that. But these weird… these weird rumours start popping up all over the city and suddenly the only books you'll write are about… about -"

"Ghost stories?" you prompt.

"Dead people!" she exclaims before sighing and brushing a stray hair out of her face. "I just… I just don't want to see you get stuck in this is all."

"I think," you say pointedly, rolling your shoulders back and settling further into your chair, "that it's a bit too late for that."

Dead, sure, but not gone. Even after his death, it's like he's still here. It's an ever-heavy presence laying over your shoulders and wrapping around you. Sometimes you swear you can even feel his breath on your cheek.

But that's crazy, you tell yourself. It can't be real. He's gone, he's gone, he's gone.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

The Long Halloween - Teaser #3

DC Event Week - announcement & fic list here

pairing: mothman damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

"Go on, really," the officer's defeated sigh makes you snap your head back down to look at him. He arches a brow wearily and, after glancing around to confirm that most of the crowd is still gathered, you narrow your eyes at him. "Get lost."

"I'm just standing here," you press. "Just like everybody else."

"No," he crossed his arms. "I've seen you before. Anytime, anywhere some freak accident happens, anytime somebody dies, you're always here, nosing around." You take a step back at his words, pressing your lips together in annoyance. "Maybe," he says pointedly. "Maybe we should bring you in for questioning."

"For a freak accident?" you quip back. "Incredible use of police resources." You hope that he doesn't notice the way that you sweat at his comment, hope that he can't see the way that your heart hammers and lurches as you spin on your heel and march away, knocking shoulders with people in the crowd.

You hope that he can't see the flickering shadow overhead, and hear the faint sound of wings beating over the breeze.

The Mothman. 

If you ask anyone, he's a myth, a scary story that you tell when you're out in the dark with your friends and you want to give them a good scare.

He's the omen of death, it's believed, and if you see him, you're sure to die. When tragedy is about to strike, when death is about to reign down, the Mothman will appear on the scene, dark and wild and ready to see it through.

As you begin the long walk back to your apartment, you shove your hands into your pockets to ward off the oncoming chill of night, watching as your breath fogs out in front of your face. Flashes of the crime scene that you'd just left play over and over in your mind, the accident and the death and the Mothman, large and looming and deadly as he stares. 

You were so sure… you were so sure that this time, you'd get there quick enough, that this time you'd stop him from killing again.