ROTTMNT Stuff (And Some 2k12)

So I'll Dance

(Donnie is kidnapped and turned sort of puppet-like. He is unable to move at his will, other than his head and face. He's forced into being some sort of dancer for the villains'sick entertainment) (should I continue this?))
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Donatello rummaged through the scrap yard, looking for new parts for Shelldons upgrades. He could hear the distant chatter of his brothers in the turtle tank, his cuff being unmuted in case Raph needed him to check in. He couldn't hear much other than the sharp clank of the metal landing on other pieces of metal as he set aside the useless material. He murmured to himself as he did so, listing off what things could be salvageable as he simultaneously hummed notes to a song he was listening to on his phone. He danced a bit, mindlessly doing a few moves here and there. He hadn't noticed the faint footsteps of something approaching his destination over the music and the chatter. Or if he had, he just tuned it out.

The footsteps grew closer, closer, closer. They became louder, louder, louder. But when the softshell had finally noticed the sounds, it had been too late.

He struggled and fought against the attacker, but to no avail. His efforts grew futile as his bō was knocked from his grip by swift hands. His battle shell had been compromised by a quick stab of an unknown object. Soon he was left defenseless, and clueless as to where the attacker was. He quickly hit the panic button, beginning to sprint towards the exit to the scrap yard. The sound of his panicked brothers yelling and scrambling around would have been heard, had he not completely tuned them out above the ever growing sounds of quick footsteps. He didn't look back, he couldn't look back. Looking back meant harm, looking back meant vulnerability.

Looking back meant death.

He suddenly felt his chin hit the ground with a sickening smack! He was left dazed and confused, groaning in discomfort as he attempted to sit up. He was held down by what felt like a foot on his carapace, suddenly the sounds of his brothers returning as he froze in terror.
"Hello there, turtle. . ." The menacing voice of the attacker spoke, leaning down so their head was almost beside his own. "Seems I've caught myself quite the dancer, this'll be fun." They chuckled, before letting out an annoyed sigh at the cuff. They grimaced, removing the cuff rather aggressively before throwing it to the side. "Seems I got lucky catching the least annoying one."
Donnie hadn't heard much after the 'hello there, turtle. . .' part, everything was beginning to grow tuned out by a loud ringing in his ears. His eyes had shrunk to pinpricks by now, body tense and unmoving out of fear.

He'd been caught. . .

He's gonna die—

"—onnie!"

He's a goner—

"—on— ie!!"

They're gonna be so disappointed—

"Do- ie an- er!!"

Crunch!

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Ugh. . . Where am I. . ? He thought with a groan, blinking the blurriness from his eyes and looking around. He went to move his limbs, but felt a sudden searing pain in them. He soon realized,