Of Men and Mutants (Rottmnt Donnie x reader🍋)

(They only want you when you're) Pt 17

*Donatello's POV and timeskip to 4:37PM that next day. Ps, POV and timeskip brought to you by ✨shawty's apple bottom jeans (jeans), and her boots with the fur. (With the fur)✨*

*Thump*

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*Thump*

"Oh... it's just my heart... it seems to be beating irregularly... That's quite irritating..." I think to myself as I begin to awaken. My hands tremble as I raise my head from my desk, looking to my constantly running crime monitors. I sigh to myself, probably verbalizing it as I do. My sharpened gaze lingers on the monitors, dragging to the painting Michael made for me. It's only her silhouette, but I could tell it was her.

"Maybe you wouldn't have been kidnapped if I didn't try to approach you. Maybe Kendra wouldn't have caused you so much strife. Maybe Big Mama wouldn't have you right now. Maybe you would have been happier... Maybe I do care about your happiness... Maybe you don't deserve this... Y/n..."

"I'm... sorry..." I mumbled, having my thoughts cut off by a familiar, yet annoying voice.

"Wow. Okay? Uhhh... Who're you talking to, Donald? You never apologize to anyone, much less yourself. So... What's going on? Also, what's with your morning voice?" Leon's words hang in the air like wet laundry. I turn my head to face him, noticing how his gaze went from soft and curious to slightly disgusted and confused.

"No one, nothing, and nothing once more. What do you want?" I ask in a not-so-pleasant tone, my normally robotic voice coming in more gravely. My brother doesn't take too kindly to my dismissal of his inquiries, walking over and trying to get a good look at the illustration of Y/n. I yawn, trying to use stretching as an excuse to block his view of the painting.

"Don-Tron. First off, I know this'll sound sarcastic, but- Dude, your voice isn't as annoying and robo-like first thing in the morning. Second... Lemme seee-" He eagerly grabs my shoulder, softly pulling me out of the way. I realized that my Battle-Shell and everything else was still on, having made me more uncomfortable.

"Huh? It's just one of Mikey's paintings, bro. What're ya tripping out about?" My ignorant brother questioned, causing a glare as I began to recall everything that had happened last night. He was the last one out...

"Hello? Earth to Donnie?" Leo interrupted my thoughts. My glare is put to a stop as I look away from him once more and pop my knuckles and neck. The soft clicking of each joint is nice after I had face planted on my desk last night... or this morning...?

"Shut up. Leave." I demand, walking to the door and unlocking it. I knew he got in here with a portal, which is annoying, as I have a rule for no mystics to be used to break into my lab... That rule should be changed to simply, no breaking into my lab, period... Leo seemed to understand immediately why I asked that he leave. He slowly made his way to the door, beginning to plead his case.

"Donnie, I tried to get her through the portal. I swear-" I cut him off, slamming the door shut and locking it. I begin to let my mind wander about the predicaments of these past few... hours.

"Maybe he is telling the truth. But, maybe he just doesn't trust her. Maybe he hates her that much. Maybe he hates her to the point where he'd let her stay in the hands of a sadistic dancing spider woman... Or maybe she didn't want him to possibly stay behind for her. Maybe she was being selfless like that day we saw her in her apartment. Maybe she knows that I care for my brother and that keeping him safe is something I would want... Maybe not that last one... unless..." I cut off my own thoughts, looking at the painting again.

"If we're going to get you back... You owe me big time..." I say, thinking about what she might say.

"Now why would I owe you anything? You're doing this outta "The goodness of your heart", right? You know you'd do this for me time and time again. That you-"

"Stop, brain." I demanded, sitting down in my chair and closing my eyes. She'll be fine, I know it for sure. She's a tough cookie, there's no way Big Mama would hurt her too bad for her to handle. She'll be fine...

"You'll be okay..."

*Pov, that morning, with you-Y/n-Yin "The Real Slim Shady" Lana.*

"Raise your hands higher." Baron postulated, having given you a sword to train with. The sword was heavy, and seemed much like Leonardo's Ōdachi. You hold it higher, raising a brow as he glared down at you, seeming dissatisfied with your struggle. He used vines to grip the blade, causing you to tug the sword in a downward motion and cut the vines off the blade's edge. You hadn't been able to get a good angle on the slices before and Baron now seemed slightly pleased.

"Better. Now, I will not hold back, be more prepared this time, then perhaps you can return home." Baron said, as a spark shone through in your eyes.

*Baron Draxum POV*

As I made a promise to the lowly human, I noticed a golden gleam in her eyes. It was a shine I've seen before, almost like the perfect fighter...

"I saw it yesterday, the confidence, the determination, the power. She has such potential, it'd be a shame to let her go without training-" My thoughts come to a halt as she swiftly slides the blade of the Ōdachi across the vines at my side, I hadn't noticed how close she'd gotten in such a short time. I adjusted my stance to better accommodate her movements, feeling a strange sense of familiarity. She was quite like the first one...

"Lou Jutsu... Maybe the next champion of the Battle Nexus... Maybe she can show my sons what they can become... If I can train her right, give her enough freedom to think I'm merciful..." I think as I eventually take the Ōdachi from the panting girl, who doubles over in pain after I land a hard attack to her gut. I start towards the door, knowing that my imbecilic minions are awaiting me to bring her some "necessary nutrients in the form of breakfast" or whatever.

"Make sure not to pass out until I've returned, human. I'll be bringing back some food for you. Also, don't get blood all over my floor-" I turned to face her for a moment. "-And you'll go home tomorrow or the day after. My illiterate colleague says she wishes to discuss your "work schedule" as soon as you're used to any real fighting. This will count as your first lesson." I slam the door behind me, ignoring any possible questions the girl may have had. She'll bend to our will, or be broken.

(Word count: 1179)