𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

stupid / / yandere!rise!donatello

ship/pairing: yandere!rise!Donatello x g/n!reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

request: no one

warnings: kinda ooc, blood, wounds, kidnapping, unwanted touching (non sexual), blades, degrading, sadism, stitches, non consensual scarification (?), vomiting, hair pulling, threats of amputation, isolation used as punishment

fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

word count: 1145

A/N: i wasn't sure to write this with Leo or Donnie so i most likely wrote Donnie's personality wrong. 18+ people DNI. i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

You wanted to cry as you felt Donnie's disappointed gaze on you. Or maybe it was because of the pain of how tight he gripped your wounded wrist. Either way, it didn't matter, as Donnie would have absolutely zero sympathy for you if you started crying. After all, it was your fault. Your fault you were currently staining his lab floors with blood.

He brought his other hand to your wrist to inspect the gash, as if something had changed in the last five minutes he'd been staring at it.

"Do you want to explain why you cut your tracker out of your wrist?" his voice broke the dreaded silence, and you weren't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

You stayed silent. He hadn't been happy with your previous answer explaining that you wanted to be alone from him and go outside without him worrying. It wasn't the answer he wanted. But the truth wasn't the answer he wanted either.

He grabbed a new tracker from his bench along with a scalpel, gliding the blade through your wound to make a deeper cut, pulling your wrist tightly as he inserted the new tracker inside the wound. The metallic scent of blood in the room grew worse, making your stomach churn. You whimpered, biting your tongue so you didn't cry out in pain, while Donnie just seemed unbothered by the pain his actions caused.

"Or do you need me to tell you?"

You stayed quiet. Your eyes stung as tears pricked the back of your eyes, begging for you to cry. But you didn't. Tears wouldn't help you. Donnie would only mock you and belittle you if he saw you crying.

A sigh left his lips as he brought his hands up to cup the side of your face. You felt yourself wanting to lean into his touch, wanting to cling to the gentleness of his hands that so harshly contrasted the anger he must've been feeling.

"You're stupid, Y/N." silence hung between the two of you while he stared you down, his eyes filled with disappointment and frustration. His hands dropped from your face and he grabbed a needle and thread. You felt your stomach drop.

"So stupid," he muttered, piercing the needle through your skin, guiding the thread through your wounded skin to stitch it back together. The corners of his lips twitched upward as he heard your stifled groans and cries of pain. The tears building up in your eyes felt as heavy as rocks as you desperately tried not to cry.

"You're even more stupid than I thought you were. I had faith in you, but you've proven me wrong. Because you are somehow so stupid, you can't understand that everything I do for you is for your own good. I'm helping you, by keeping you here, because you're nothing without me. You're weak. Completely helpless. Fucking pathetic."

You broke, letting the tears fall down your cheeks with a choked sob.

The room went silent, anxiety bubbled in your chest while you stared at Donnie's hands. It was as if he paused for dramatic effect as well as staying silent.

Until he laughed.

He fucking laughed.

For a little longer than necessary in your opinion.

"Fuck, Y/N," his laughter stopped abruptly with a yell, making you flinch, "that's exactly what I'm talking about." He stabbed the needle to your arm again and drew the string through tightly, forcing a strained cry of pain from your throat.

"You're pathetic. Crying over everything and just so whiny. It's pitiful, honestly. Consider yourself lucky you have me, darling. I have no idea how all your friends managed to put up with you for so long. No wonder none of them care that you're gone."

You found the courage to shake your head, opening your mouth to speak, when he tugged on the needle tightly, quickly making you shut up.

"Sorry, did you have something to say?" Donnie's smug voice asked. He knew exactly what you were going to say.

You stayed silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing your weak attempt of convincing yourself he was wrong. The needle was pricked through your skin a few more times before he picked up some scissors, cutting the end of the knot he tied in the string as he finished the last stitch. He cleared his throat.

"Just to be clear, though I am enjoying all this, you brought this on yourself. I want you to look at the scar on your arm everyday and think of this. Think of how dumb you were trying to escape me. Think of how easy it was for me to catch you. I want you to look at it and regret everything you did, until every time you even think about escaping again, you want to ridicule yourself over how dumb of an idea it is."

You shrank back at his words, your gaze falling toward the floor, when you caught sight of the stitches Donnie had made in your arm. It was obvious he had finished stitching your wound together for a long time, as you stared in horror at the array of letters stitched into your arm, spelling out his name. He had even made sure to stitch his birth name, which you could only assume was to cause more pain for you. The pain from the stitching mixed with the bloody scent and sight on your arm all made you feel sick, until you found yourself gagging, eventually vomiting up spit on the floor.

Donnie's face scrunched up in disgust, "Scoff, don't be so dramatic." he stood up from his chair, a metal claw from his battle shell dug into your scalp, dragging you by your hair as Donnie led you out of his lab. Too tired to fight against him you let him drag you, feeling the heels of your feet stinging against the tiles. You winced as every slight movement from your arm sent a jolt of pain.

You heard the creak of door, followed by the flick of a light switch, and you were shoved into a room you recognized all too well. All white walls and floors, and empty of furniture save for the single bed in the corner of the room. You were roughly placed onto the bed, Donnie wasting no time to restrain you to the bed.

"Take that tracker out again, and you'll lose your arm."

You stared at him with an empty expression, using the little energy you had to nod to show your understanding. His hand cupped your cheek gently, his lips upturned slightly, before he bid goodbye and left, making a show of locking the door for extra measures.

All alone, you let the tears fall freely down your face, eventually crying yourself into a restless sleep.