#lil trauma doodle before bed

[cloudstuffs]

[inscryption-reboot]

Hey guys! Uhhhh this came out of nowhere. 😅

I’m gonna take a lil break for a short time. I might answer an ask here or there… but uhhh… I go into more detail under the cut.

Sorry to just disappear!!! This is a surprise to me as much as it is to you!

I get migraines…. And I have past trauma from things. And sometimes those mix.

Well yesterday I was feeling very strange, brain very foggy and such. And then it was like 10 at night before my head hurt. A cursed migraine had been bothering me all day. Hadn’t let me get anything done.

(Some of the reason I haven’t been doing quite as much lore is I’ve had a one migraine a week this month for some stupid reason. And it makes me as sharp as a butter knife sooooo yeah)

I got in, and took my meds. And the pain started easing off again (it’d been hiding in the fog the whole time more than likely) and then I started getting ready for bed.

My head hit the pillow and this happened

Sooooo. You took pain meds.

Yes. GO AWAY! I didn’t get ANYTHING done today cause of you. Scram! I want to be productive tomorrow!

I think I’ll just attack you in a different way that might be more painful.

What? No? I said go away! I’m trying to sle-

Why didn’t you get anything done today?

….. what?

Why didn’t you get anything done today?

Cause you were-

You’ve worked through migraines all this month. Why was today different? Are you just being lazy?

What?

Can you not even answer a question imbecile?! You’re so wrapped up in your little games that you don’t have the brain left over for even speech!?

I’m gonna cut that conversation there. But I think you get it.

My migraine shifted from physical pain, to emotional trauma.

Echoing stuff people told me in a very dark time of my life. And fears I have now.

My mental health kinda plummeted last night to say the least…… and I’m not sure if the migraine is gone.

I’m so sorry to disappear…. But I gotta make sure this is under control before it gets out of hand.

I might answer an occasional ask. Cause doodling these characters is just too fun! But I’ll probably stay away until I can steadily stand as myself before I try to role play others.

@theinvisibledoodlewizard is my main for any who don’t know. I’ll probably hang out there. If you want to still see what I’m up to. And I have a YouTube too I’m trying to get to 50 subs so I can stream and hang out with you guys! It’s Invisible Doodle Wizard.

Hope y’all are amazing. I’m so sorry to disappear. I just wanna be at my best so I can give y’all what you deserve here. :)

[spinchip]

i mean. the prompt I've got in my head is like. a lil bit zangsty but, zane being rebuilt post s4 make me wonder if he can like. actually remember stuff about what happened early on. maybe the og four are reminiscing about some of their early days, and zane can't relate because zane can't remember? like. all those memories were p much lost for good after s3... makes me think

A/n: 1150 words. this was fun!

“Hey.” Kai says, knocking on Zanes door. It’d been open, the invitation extended to anyone who wished to see him, but Kai still lingers in the doorway.

Zane blinks up from where he's been sitting on top of his bed, bookmarking the page he’s been on and setting the book he’d been flipping through aside, “Hello, Kai.” He smiles, though faintly, as he registers the expression on his face, “Is something wrong?” he sits up a little straighter, swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

Kai hesitates, shaking his head, “No- well, it’s just… I’m really glad you’re back.” He admits, stepping into the rooms.

“Oh.” Zane says faintly, instantly forcing down the Overlord's memory before it can snap to the front of his mind, “I’m glad to be back as well.”

Kai sits heavily on the edge of the bed, close enough for their legs to touch, “I… had a lot of time to think about things, after…” He doesn’t finish that sentence, licking his lips.

“What were you thinking about?” Zane carefully avoids any mention of his death.

“About when the Monastery burned down.” He admits, “The things I said… I just kept thinking about how I never said sorry. I know you said I didn’t need to, but I think you deserve it. From me.” He takes a deep breath, straightens up and squares his shoulders, and speaks with the most conviction he can muster, “I’m really sorry about what I said, Zane… and I’m sorry about the way I treated you. You’re one of my best friends.” He says earnestly.

Zane nods, taking the weight of Kais words. He smiles gently, reaching out to squeeze Kais shoulder reassuringly, “I forgive you, my friend.”

With the apology passed on, Kai seems lighter, smiling brilliantly at his teammate before throwing his arm around him in a tight side-hug. “You’re the best, Zane!”

“I know.” Zane smiles, returning the embrace.

Kai sighs easy, and as the silence stretches he seems to grow a bit more awkward, “Well, I didn't mean to interrupt! I’ll leave you to your book.” he nods to the leather bound book Zane had been studying, standing up with a clap of his hands, “I’ll see you around lunch, yeah?”

“I’m making grilled cheese sandwiches.” Zane confirms, Kai fist pumps as he heads out the door.

Zane hums, sitting back on his bed once again. He picks up his fathers journal and scans the pages slowly, letting his fathers looping handwriting and intricately scribbled doodles fill in the gaps in his mind, memories contextualizing in his head, and tries not to let it bother him.

It was easy for Zane to forgive Kai for whatever rash words he’d thrown against him.

He... didn’t ever remember that happening, anyway.

_______________

He remembers most things, it’s not all been lost when he died. He remembers meeting Master Wu for the first time, he remembers dressing in all black and ambushing Kai that night, he remembers giving Pixal his heart. There’s a lot of little memories in between, smaller things, the day-to-day that still makes its home in his head. He barely remembers his father, those memories damaged long before the overlord, unable to survive past that trauma.

He finds, quite unexpectedly, that he has no memory of the first time he met Jay Walker.

He has the memory of before, Walking up those endless stair with Master Wu (who had been trying to hide how he was looking at Zane, impressed at how he didn’t even seem winded on their way up) and after, When Jay had led him over to the living room to introduce him to Cole. the time between was blank, a record-skip in his mind, the scene transitioning sharply past the moment he first laid eyes on his future friend.

Once he discovers it’s missing, he thinks about it a lot. He wonders what Jay had said to him, what he had said to Jay? Would the boy have commented on his lack of belongings? Would Zane have explained why?

Zane consults another memory. Jay didn’t know he was an orphan. Then what would he have said, when they first met? Jay was anything but unmemorable, how could Zane forget?

He thinks about asking sometimes, or prodding and picking delicately until Jay volunteers the information himself, or even waiting for it to come up in conversation naturally. It never does, really, not in a way that would satisfy the burning itch.

He doesn’t tell him because it would hurt his feelings to know Zane had forgotten him, probably.

He doesn’t really know Jay all that well. Or maybe he did. Was supposed to?

(how many memories is he missing?)

_______________

He’d accepted on Chen's island he wasn’t the white ninja, he’s conquered that fear. He was the titanium ninja, and that was fine, really. He was still Zane, probably, just a different version. He doesn’t want to drag on this existential crisis any longer, so he shuts the door on it and washes his hands of it. He is who he is, Pixal helped him figure that out.

And Cole, too, but Zane would never tell him that.

It’s just that, when he’d been all alone down there in that dungeon, and Pixal had coaxed the shattered and splintered pieces of himself back together, his memory had been… it had been damaged beyond repair long before then, really, he could accept this now. Things had been lost for good. He knew lots of stuff abstractly, that he was a ninja, that he lived in Birchwood Forest at some point, that he had lots of friends and lots of enemies- but there was a disconnect he couldn’t describe, a distance he never told Pixal about.

A chasm made all the more apparent when Cole peeked through those bars and Zane... didn’t recognize him.

But the thing that settles the spiraling, unsettling identity crisis in his chest is that Cole recognizes him.

“You’re alive!” Cole says so confidently that Zane instantly believes it’s true, that there’s no way he couldn’t be the man Cole recognizes, “And you’re silver?”

He can match the face and the voice, he can understand that it’s Cole and commit that to memory, but he didn’t understand who he was looking at the moment he saw him based on the hole riddled, damaged program he’d been working off of now.

“Titanium.” He corrects, and there’s a dissonance with the face in his files and the one before him, “Cole, you look white.” He comments, and Cole just smiles and laughs and says a lot of things about getting Zane home.

The distance in his head closes when Cole calls him lug nut, and the memories are suddenly his again, within his grasp, Cole the one piece of the puzzle he needed to kick-start his code back into working order. His life snapping back into reality instead of a nebulous, intangible thing shaped around him.

This is his secret, not even Pixal had realized what happened, and she’d been in his head. He doesn’t want anyone to know.

It’s fine now, anyway. He can always make more memories.

_______________

“Hey, Zane, do you remember when-”

Probably not.

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December day 11- Snowglobe and 12- Soulmate au

@daminette-december2019-2020

Okk sooo like I said I wanted to make a separate lil one shot for this one because I have a nice lil idea in mind and my medieval au does not work with the snow globe and soulmate thing so I decided fuck it.

Also Tim isn’t it the series yet so I decided to do some brotherly shenanigans that included him.

This one shot actually worked out really well like I love it.

I get to be slightly more… hmm what’s the word?... stupid?

It’s the writing on skin, appears on soulmate's skin, soulmate au btw.

Honestly I love this, it did not go as expected lmao.

Anyway I hope u guys enjoy this!

Previous- Princes and Pedestals Chapter 10

Next- Princes and Pedestals Chapter 11

The Permanent Marker

The first time Damian saw a snow globe it had been during a fight with Tim, who'd decided to throw him with it.

It was safe to say that the item that was thrown ended their fight. The side made of ceramic hit his arm. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it landed on the floor, the glass shattered. The tiny fake snowflakes scattered all over the place.

Before then he had only heard of one thing that, in his mind, worked similarly…

“Drake, I will skin you alive!” he said jumping on his brother, Jason pulled him off and held him back, “Todd! Release me at once! The imbecile just attacked me with a glitter bomb!”

The entire manor went silent for a few seconds before they all burst out laughing.

To this day, he was still being teased about it. Even though the incident had happened years ago.

It resulted in him having quite the distaste for snow globes.

So imagine his annoyance when he woke up four days before the anniversary of The Incident with a picture of a snow globe on his hand.

As if that didn’t make the message clear enough, there was a snow globe and a glitter bomb on his bedside table, each labelled mockingly.

He growled and turned his gaze back to his hand.

He had no idea how his brothers had managed to draw it on him without waking him up but he was absolutely livid.

His soulmate must be incredibly confused as to why there was a crudely drawn snow globe on her hand.

He got up and stomped to the bathroom, washing it off. He got ready and walked angrily to the dining room.

He found them all there and when they saw his sour expression they burst out laughing.

He glared at them all through breakfast, his temper far shorter than usual.

He just hoped his soulmate wouldn’t ask about the snow globe or better still, that she hadn’t seen it.

Every morning for the next two days, he woke up with an ugly little snow globe on his hand. And each morning he would wash it off.

He was bordering on the edge of murderous.

Meanwhile in Paris, Marinette was in a similar state.

You see, for three days she had been trying to remember the damn stupid snow globe Alya had forgotten at her house over the weekend.

She’d drawn a nice little snow globe on her hand to remind herself. But apparently her soulmate was hell bent on not letting her return the damned snow globe.

Each time she drew the little picture, he would wash it off it sometime before she got home.

Because of course he would.

She knew he was a tidy person and he’d established that he had no wish to meet her back when they were small, but usually he at least didn’t wash off her drawings.

She huffed in annoyance as she rode the train back home.

It would’ve been easier to return the snow globe to Alya when they were still in Collegé Francious Du Point, where she lived only a street away. But nooooo, their lycee was far enough away that she had to take the train there and back. Just having Alya pick it up wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

She took out a pen and redrew her snow globe. He had already washed off the one she made earlier that day.

When she got home she realized that he had also washed off the one she made on the train. She huffed in annoyance and groaned.

Why was everything against her?

She eyed her drawer.

Maybe…

No, that wasn’t fair, she didn’t know why he erased the snow globe each time. There could be a very good reason.

Her pettier side didn’t care though. She was sick of him. He’d hurt her so much when they were kids, refusing to even try to get to know her. Not replying to any of her writing or doodles.

Eventually she stopped writing but doodles found still their way onto her skin. And they arrived at a silent truce of sorts, he would let her draw, and she wouldn’t expect anything.

Until now apparently.

Why couldn’t he just give her – give them - a chance?

Why couldn’t they just be normal? Why did he have to be such an ass? Why couldn’t they just write to one another?

She was reminded of the only time he'd written more than a few words to her.

The day she’d accidentally used the wrong kind of pen. The kind that had ink that didn’t wash off properly until after three days.

A permanent marker.

She didn’t known it was a permanent marker, and it wasn’t like she’d drawn anything too big with it. Just a medium sized heart on her wrist.

She was eight, she didn’t think it would be a problem.

Well apparently it was, because that day he let her have it. That day he made it clear that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.

But to hell with that.

If he wanted to break their truce, the weird set of rules they had somehow established…

Then so would she.

She stood and opened the drawer, she took out the permanent marker she hadn’t touched in years and removed the lid.

She smiled as she drew her snow globe again.

This time she would remember the snow globe.

And she did, the next morning she saw her snow globe still on her hand, slightly smudged, but there. She smiled victoriously.

She returned Alya's snow globe and spent the rest of the day on cloud nine. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest of things to do, but it wasn’t like he took her into consideration. She figured this, at most, made them even.

What caught her off guard however, was the neat writing in black ink that appeared on her wrist later that night

The words ‘I’m sorry’ were etched onto her skin in handwriting that she recognized as his.

You see Damian hadn’t noticed the sketch when he got home. Hadn’t noticed it when he’d put on his gloves for patrol or when he’d gone to bed.

He never saw it until morning.

He lost it when he realized his brothers had written on him with a permanent marker.

The one think he’d basically forbade her from doing all those years ago and they did it.

They crossed a line. And Damian made that perfectly clear.

By attacking them and beating them up until they apologized.

He still felt it was necessary to apologize to her.

For the permanent ink. But also for all the years of silence, for all the years of ignoring her.

He settled on a small ‘I’m sorry’ on his wrist and hoped for the best.

That tiny apology, though, opened up a line of communication between the two.

They started talking regularly, growing closer and closer through their words. Eventually they met and started dating.

They helped one another, through trauma and superheroing and liars and villains, they were there.

They became a dynamic duo, he helped her run her label while she did commissions and designed her days away.

They were happy, one of the success stories. And while they hung up the capes and cowls, they were always available for emergencies.

They would tell their children and their grandchildren the story of the snow globe. Dick, Jason and Tim often liked to take credit. Earning a disgusted ‘Tt' from Damian and a laugh from Marinette.

The moral of the story, Marinette always liked to say, was that sometimes even the smallest, insignificant thing could make the biggest, life altering difference.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt @fusser90 @editorofeverything @thenillabean @sunflowers-and-mooncakes

[pretty-volatile]

Well fuck

Thursday, June 13th, 2019 9:30 am

Okay so like maybe this isn't the heeaaaltthiiessstt buuuttttt, I was looking shit about my good ol mental health and trying to understand shit. I literally only have 8 days left to see the psychiatrist and only 4 days until I can see my therapist. But anyway....so I realize I may experience 'bipolar psychosis'. I'm still new to trying to understand hallucinations, delusions, and disorganized thinking & speech. My struggle is trying to dictate what I've experienced and if that's what it is, or if it's just me being weird or something. I don't know. I'm trying.

Here's reference though, especially for me to bring up the the good ol professional helpers when I see them :P

I've had visual hallucinations in the past I'm pretty sure. Glimpses of shadow figures in the corner, one time I saw what looked like someone that hung themselves. Oh and when I was in hospital for my first suicide attempt, I saw a little girl in the room that I stayed in (I was by myself because I was on suicide watch, window in door & round mirror in corner so they can make sure I didn't do anything). I remember writing about her and I think I did a little doodle of her. I don't think I experience visual hallucinations currently, but I do see like movement in the corner of my eye but then when I look, nothing's there. The only distress it really causes is slight paranoia. I'm okay for now but uh, what if it gets as bad as when I used to see the shadow figures? Oh and when I was younger I also saw orbs of light on the wall even though the only light was coming from the radio that was on the ground so there wasn't really any explanation for the light source.

I've only randomly smelt something that wasn't there a couple times, but usually it's not distressing, so much as a "where'd that come from?". Then I just move on.

Since I've been experiencing some mania/hypomania, I experienced some good ol insomnia, racing thoughts, anxiety about stupid ass shit such as "what if the smoke alarm goes off? I wouldn't know what to do" and I like physically cringed from the thought of having to deal with that. I know I definitely have intrusive thoughts. Whew those are NOT fun. Most times they're like violent? Ish? I get this paranoia sometimes when I'm walking I have this internal feeling that someone is pointing a sniper at me and I'm just waiting to fucking die the longer I stay in the open where they can shot me. Or that any talking or glances in my direction are actually because those people are judging me or reading my thoughts or they're making fun of me, huge mood if they're laughing/smiling in my direction but usually it's not actually at me but I can't shake the feeling. The only way I can get myself to keep walking and ignore it is if I look at the ground and listen to music with headphones in. I also tend to have this tendency to imagine what if a shooting just broke out while I was walking across campus and what would I do to either save people or attack the perp or flee for my life. I also have these rage impulses to like deck someone in the face or push someone down stairs, even if that person never did anything to warrant it. Last night while I was awake with my eyes closed, just letting my thoughts do what they needed to do since I couldn't fucking stop them!!!! Ugh I hate nights like that. That's why I hate going to bed sometimes. I'll lay down and my head is just flooded with memories and trauma and stressors. I don't know if this qualifies as Disorganized Thinking or if it's just 'thought-chatter'. It just keeps going from one thought to another and sometimes I can't even remember what I thought. It just won't stop and I'll be up for hourrsssss. Then when I wake up I'm like Extra Grumpy. But when I was laying there trying to go to bed & I was experiencing the racing thoughts, I started to fucking feeling the crawling on my legs again. Much more than usual. And it got worse when I brought attention to it. I kept tossing and turning and trying to like itch the tingling/crawling away. I'm assuming this is like that bugs crawling you hallucination, right? Like when I first felt it last night, not the first time ever but the first time during that episode, I literally swatted and itched to get the thing to go away. Meanwhile my partner was asleep so I was trying not to move too much. I just couldn't get my thoughts to stop. And they'd go from one to another even before I was done like thinking about the subject? And then I wouldn't be able to remember what I thought, so I just had to go with the thought change. I mean, I do smoke weed but I'm pretty sure this happens when I'm sober just as well. Plus lately, it doesn't even feel like I can get High. Like even after I smoke 2 bowls I feel somewhat coherent still and then it goes away fast. But sometimes it's the only thing that helps the rage/depression/anxiety/insomnia. It's the crutch I'm trying to use until I can actually get on meds.

Oh and sometimes at nighttime, as I might've mentioned before, I get that like I can hear a radio playing the distance, never a full song but like phrases of songs either on repeat or blending into other song phrases that sounds like one long fluid song? But I can't always make out lyrics. Or sometimes it'll sound like a TV or something is on and I'll hear sound snippets and I'm only sure of one instance where I actually heard something/someone say 'hey', which was scary because it was nighttime and my partner and I were both trying to fall asleep. I can't fall asleep until I know the causes of the sounds I'm hearing. I experienced this a couple times last month, but I don't think within the past week or two.

I honestly don't know. Time feels so fucking weird. It feels like it's been so fucking long since I've realized this whole bipolar/BPD situation out a lil. I think realistically? I might have looked up BPD in April? Maybe earlier? But that feels like so so far away. But then again, time feels like it's moving really fast? I keep waking up and just restarting the day but with like different events/moods. Everything feels like it's on repeat or like I'm in a fucking cycle that I can't get out of.

Does anyone else experience memories/trauma as if it's like a virtual reality that they can just steep their mind into? Like I have REALLY good spatial memory, so I can like walk through the places I've been in in my mind. I can feel almost everything that's happening definitely emotionally/spatially. All while my eyes are closed and my thoughts are just drifting as if someone is controlling them. Like I don't know how to explain it. It feels like there's something else bringing me these thoughts/memories. Like my conscious self is not in control, I'm just watching as if it's a movie. But like I can feel it too.

I know especially before I've drawn and talked about/had a conversation with like these 2 different aspects of myself. One's always depressed and clingy and just thinks the world would be better off without them but simultaneously needs as much validation as possible and the other is like the voice that tries to give reason & keep the depressed/angry/melancholy part of me to keep going instead of like taking over I guess? I don't know. This post is long enough. *Sighs* I hope I get the help I need and I hope I can address as many issues as I can/have knowledge of.