#tmnt 07

(written for @yellowhollyhock's challenge)

--

Day 6: New York City Day 7: Monster

--

Raph hears it for the first time at home.

It’s an early Sunday morning after a long, long night, and he’s exhausted, heading back to his bedroom. His knuckles are bruised to hell and back, and his shoulder aches with each step; the giant flail he took to his right side is going to give him trouble for a few days.

Donnie’s in the living room, idly flicking through TV channels. He doesn’t even look up when Raph walks in, one eye still on the laptop screen on his lap.

“He’s—he’s like a monster!” A high-pitched voice exclaims through the speakers, and Raph pauses.

It’s a live interview, a reporter talking to a young teenager. They’re standing in front of a bank, the entrance sectioned off with yellow police tape and orange cones. Even through the shaky camera footage, Raph can see several starbursts of bullet holes on the brickwork, scattered in a familiar pattern.

The kid talking doesn’t look older than sixteen, dark eyebags stark on pale skin and baggy clothes hanging off his skinny frame. His eyes are wide and bloodshot while he gestures to the reporter, who has a mic diligently held to his mouth.

“He crawled into the building from the roof without a sound, and took out four guys in, like, five minutes! I think he might've killed them! And he’s been doing that every single night for months now, all over town. I saw him last week in the Heights taking down a mugger, and it was brutal.”

“Did he see you?” She asks.

“No, and thank fuck for that, dude!” He shivers hard. “He might kill me. Wait—shit, shit," he stops with genuine terror, "is he gonna come after me now? Can I—can I get into WitSec?”

The camera pans away from him, the reporter ignoring his panic and turning back to face the camera, a serious turn to her lips.

“Well, you heard it from the locals here, folks. The Nightwatcher is still actively and recklessly taking the law into his own hands. We urge the families to implement curfews and upgrade your home security, because if you and your children come across him, you might not make it out alive. Back to you, Jeff.”

Donnie tsks, frustrated. “Damn this guy. He's managed to scare the entire world and make our lives harder. Now cops are going to be all over the streets at night and we'll have to get groceries during the day. Damn it.”

He doesn't get a response, so he glances over.

Raph stands there, frozen, fingers wound around the walkway railing hard enough to dent the metal. Something heavy and painful lodges up his throat as he watches text move across the screen: ‘Beware the Monster of New York City.’

A furious storm rages against his ribcage, indignation pouring out and making every nerve-ending in his body burn like acid. Is that what everyone thinks of him? What would Casey say, if he watched this? April? Sensei?

Leo?

“What?” Donnie says, one eyebrow raised.

“He didn’t kill them." Raph manages to choke out, voice barely above a mumble. "The Nightwatcher. He didn't kill those guys."

Donnie’s eyes tick over his face for a moment, and then he shuts his laptop, sighing forcefully. It’s the same sound he makes right before he launches into another fight with him.

“You just have to disagree with me on everything, don’tcha?” He snaps. "Even when it comes to this bullheaded brute."

Raph flinches, storm stilling for a second.

Five minutes later, at the other end of the lair, Mikey wakes up to the sound of yelling in the living room. He gulps, and slowly presses his pillow to either side of his head, trying to muffle it out for the umpteenth time.

--

@the-black-and-red-femme commissioned me for her amazing OC Sasha!

I had so much fun bringing her edgy gorl to life and doing some graffiti work a lil hehe

smok

(written for @monthlywritingchallenges)

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read and supported this series! It was the first month-long challenge I've ever completed, and I loved all the reactions I got in the notes.

If there's any prompt fill you thought was interesting, let me know and I might continue it as a longer story!

Posted on AO3!

--

1. Do you remember?

2. Old letters

3. First frost

4. Faded Polaroids

5. A song you haven’t heard in a year

6. The kitchen light at 2 a.m.

7. Forgotten birthdays

8. The sound of your name

9. Things you never said

10. Dust on a bookshelf

11. A sweater that still smells like them

12. Lost numbers in an old phone

13. “It used to be ours.”

14. Empty train stations

15. Childhood

16. Echoes of laughter

17. Unsent postcards

18. Ghost towns and hometowns

19. Shadows on the wall

20. “I thought I saw you.”

21. Abandoned houses

22. A voice from the past

23. The last photograph

24. “I kept it, just in case.”

25. Coffee and quiet mornings

26. Old handwriting

27. Fleeting summers

28. Left behind

29. “We were happy once.”

--

Day 30: Home

--

New York City is cold, cold like ice forming into crystals on metal, cold like white moonlight streaming through snow, colder than stray breezes breaking through sweltering tropical humidity in a desperate, momentary relief.

Leo breathes deeply in this cold, feeling the icy air touch the bottom of his lungs, and he shivers.

Immediately, warmth envelops him on all sides: a press of an arm leaning against his, a calloused hand on his knee rubbing in some heat, and two lithe arms winding around his neck from behind, with a head happily resting on top of his.

But more than anything, the warmth is present in their voices, in their laughs and teases, grounding him to this moment like he's a planet orbiting a burning star.

Mikey points out an oddly shaped cloud in the sky, Donnie dutifully describes the phenomenon that must've created it, Raph steals some of his hot chocolate and squawks undignifiedly when twin snowballs hit him, courtesy of April and Casey—and Leo finally rests, finally peaceful, finally home.

--