#inkyturtle

In the dimly lit confines of his lab, Donatello sat slumped over his workbench, his three-fingered hands absentmindedly fiddling with a broken gadget. The familiar hum of machinery and the gentle flicker of screens, once a source of comfort and inspiration, now felt hollow and distant. The lab, which had always been a sanctuary, seemed more like a tomb tonight.

Donatello, the brilliant and ever-resourceful Turtle, had always prided himself on his ability to solve any problem, to invent any device, to overcome any obstacle. But now, he faced a challenge no amount of genius could surmount. Y/N was gone. His partner, his confidante, his best friend in the world, had died in an accident that his mind replayed over and over, each time wishing he could find a way to change the past.

He sighed deeply, the weight of grief pressing down on his soft shell. His brothers had tried to comfort him, but how could they understand? Each time they tried, Donnie would retreat further into his work, hoping to find solace in circuits and codes. But even the most intricate inventions couldn’t fill the void you had left.

His gaze fell upon a half-finished project – a small, sleek drone that you had helped him design. You had insisted on painting it a bright colour, a stark contrast to his usual preference for dark, muted tones. He picked it up, the memory of your laughter as they argued over the colour choice bringing a faint, fleeting smile to his lips.

“Y/N, what am I supposed to do without you?” he whispered, his voice cracking. The silence of the lab was his only reply.

Lost in thought, Donatello didn’t notice the soft footsteps approaching. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he looked up to see Leo standing beside him, concern etched across his face.

“Hey, Donnie,” Leo began gently. “I know it hurts. We all miss her. But isolating yourself like this… it’s not what Y/N would have wanted.”

Donnie’s eyes welled with tears, and he quickly looked away, embarrassed by his vulnerability. “I don’t know how to move on, Leo. She was… everything.”

Leo crouched down, looking Donnie directly in the eyes. “Y/N was a part of our family. She wouldn’t want you to shut down. She’d want you to keep fighting, to keep creating. For her.”

Donnie nodded slowly, knowing his brother was right but struggling to accept it. Leo gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the lab, giving Donatello the space he needed to process his emotions.

Alone again, Donnie took a deep breath and looked around his lab. He saw not just the tools and machines, but the memories and moments he had shared with you. The laughter, the debates, the breakthroughs – they were all here, embedded in every corner of the room.

He stood up, a newfound determination coursing through him. He couldn’t bring you back, but he could honor your memory by continuing their work, by ensuring that your spirit lived on in the projects they had started together.

With a trembling hand, Donatello reached for a screwdriver and began to tinker with the drone. As he worked, he felt a strange sense of peace. He wasn’t alone; your spirit was with him, guiding his hands, inspiring his mind. And for the first time since your passing, he felt a glimmer of hope.

The road ahead would be long and painful, but Donatello knew he could face it. For you. For his brothers. For the family they had built together.

1

“Thank you, young turtle,” she said softly, gazing fondly at the light green mutant balancing against her knee. Yoshi had been caring for the small female turtles for a month and yet… she was the only one who had a name. That had to change. Making her way over to the box of books she had collected, Yoshi selected her favorite: History of Renaissance Art.

“When I was a child, I wanted to be an artist.”

As the four baby reptiles scampered over to her, the mutant rat knelt, her long tail giving a startled twitch as the Smart One tripped over the little one with freckles. “If you were to become young men one day,” she began, opening the hardcover to two very particular pages, “I would name you after them. But since you are not…”

Four scaled bodies plopped onto the corners, each covering a single artist. Eight black eyes gazed up at her and Smart One cooed.

“Since you are not, I shall give each of you different names.” Yoshi stated confidently. “Leandra—” a clawed finger pointed to the calm turtle—“Regina—” the emerald ball of fire—“Daniela—” to Smart One— “and Michelangela.” Finally to the smallest of the bunch. “May you be as swift as a lioness, as powerful as a queen, remember to let only those you love to judge you, and may you be completely different from all others.”

“Perhaps you will become something great.”

2

The plumper of the four giggled and swung a three-fingered fist out, humming happily  once her protector’s hand landed atop her scaled head.

“You are alright, little Regina.” Yoshi stated calmly. “Still full of fury, I see.”

3

“I used to wonder if I had the discipline and if I was caring enough to be a proper mother…

“…for any family…

“In the darkest part of our journey, I wondered if I would have another chance to be both. I wanted to be both!”

4

“Finally, in this isolated, secret chamber, we were safe.” Yoshi opened her eyes to the four young girls in front of her.

Leandra’s now midnight colored eyes gazed at her, her dry, wavy dark brown hair tied into a little ponytail with a silky sapphire blue ribbon. Beside her was Regina, her harlequin orbs wide with interest and her slightly curled golden hair braided with a small scarlet ribbon. Daniela was beside her immediate older sister (something that had been established several months prior), sedona eyes wide with awe as she stared at her mother’s face, her straight ebony locks pulled up in a ballerina bun with a violet strip. Lastly, Michelangela, Yoshi’s youngest, with her sparkling electric blue eyes, decorated with tiger orange face paint spotted around them, her thick carrot colored curls bunched around her plump face.

“And that,” Yoshi—who was now called Mother, Sensei and Okusan—began, “is how our first great adventure led us home.”

5

“So, Sensei, now that we’re fifteen, I think we’re finally ready to go to the surface, don’t you?”

She knew the question was bound to come sooner or later and had meditated on the answer many times before, though she’d expected it to come out of Regina’s mouth rather than Leandra’s. “Yes.” Yoshi stated simply. She watched her teenagers cheer before continuing, “And no.”

The kitchen was filled with unheated protests (“I hate when she does that!”).

“You have grown powerful buy you are still young.” Yoshi stood and began making her way to the wall across from the counter. “You lack the maturity to use your skills wisely.”

“So, Sensei,” Daniela began, “isn’t that just ‘no’?”

“Yes…”

“…and no. Wisdom comes from experience and experience comes from making mistakes.”

“Aha!” the sedona eyed terrapin began rubbing her chin. “So in order for us to gain the wisdom, we have to make the mistakes! So we can go!”

“No.”

“…and ‘yes’?”

"NO!"

“Sensei,” Leandra spoke up, “we know trying to protect us… but we can’t spend our whole lives hiding down here.”

…

…