#Memory Wipe

[spaceistheplaceart]

not so evil anymore, are u >:)

[p3achyxdoll]

Please

"I have no use for a slut who doesn't take initiative. I want you to prove yourself to me, that the old you is gone, that you're devoted only to me and how I see fit to shape you," he said, stroking the hair of the kneeling girl in front of him.

"Please. You know all I've ever wanted is to be yours, your doll, your toy. I don't need my old life or my old accomplishments. Take it all away. I beg you, please, erase it all." She whimpered and looked up at him with water-filled eyes. "Please," a whisper.

"Words are cheap. I told you to show me." He stepped away.

The girl reached into the bag beside her. Out of it, she pulled a brown A4 envelope.

"Here," she said softly, offering it to the man she wanted to serve. The god she needed to worship.

He smirked, said, "What's this?" and tore open the seal.

A chuckle escaped him as he glanced between her and the paper.

"Burn it. Throw it away. Shred it. It's meaningless now. The life I thought I wanted isn't mine anymore, I want the life you dreamed for me, please Master. It means nothing to me. All those years are wasted, it's time I could've spent at your feet. . ."

"Hush now, pet. No need for hysterics."

She immediately quietened down and looked towards the floor as a sign of her submission and respect.

"Your degree, huh? That's what this little piece of useless fucking paper represents. And a Masters at that. You spent all those years and all that money on something that doesn't serve me. Sounds a little selfish, doesn't it? You only have one Master in your life now, doll." He paused and reached down to lift her chin and stare into her doe eyes. "Tear it up."

"I . . . you want me to do it?"

His hand left her chin at lightning speed and struck her cheek soundly with a *thwack*. "Questions are unbecoming of a slave, or one of my toys."

"Yes Master." She took the paper from his hands with a tremble and read her full name.

It was a title she no longer recognised. The girl doubted she'd even answer to it if someone called her that in the street. She was no longer a professional. She was barely a person anymore.

So, as her hands clasped the paper and began to rip it down the middle, the last of her dignity was shredded alongside it. Her achievements meant nothing without him.

She meant nothing without him.

Rip after rip, the parchment fell to the floor. And as the final pieces scattered, his booted feet stepped directly onto the pile as her thighs trembled and her pussy grew soaking wet.

"I don't care how long it takes. Every memory, every moment of your life I deem unnecessary is going to end up like this pile of shattered dreams. I'm going to extract each one from your broken little mind until there's nothing left that doesn't hold my fingerprints." His voice sounded dark but amused.

"Please. . ."

[whump-bunny]

Just had to factory reset my old phone, and even though I didn't like that phone, and I've already got a new one, it did kind of feel like memory wiping a friend ;-;

So anyway, memory wipe your robot whumpees y'all. Bonus points if Caretaker has to do it. Maybe whumpee got a virus or something and there's no other way. Maybe caretaker has tears streaming down their cheeks while robot!whumpee tells them "it's okay."

Bonus points if after the memory wipe, robot!whumpee looks at caretaker with no recognition and goes, "Hello new user! How can I help you?"

[sonic-takeover]

Oh I see... Well if your memories are that vague then it's still a little strange that you just assume he's your copy, Metal. 😅 Sonic had never even met or known about you until the first time Eggman sent you to fight him and had been leading a life completely unrelated to whatever you were doing up until that time then if you'd been built already. 😅 If you ever find out when you were built I'm sure Amy would love to celebrate the anniversary of the date with you in the form of a birthday party though. 🤗

Entertaining the idea that the organic version is the original... Why did Eggman always tell me that he was my mimic? That I should be the only iteration, as I was the first? I do not know if I am able to find out my date of creation. Only Eggman would know that. I do not feel the need to cleebrate my date of creation, but... To celebrate anything with Amy would be a treat in itself.

[car9723-t]

When I heard that Stan and Ford swapped their clothes again before recovering Stan's memory after the memory wipe in the finale, I decided to put some thoughts on it after watching the episode.

Right now, I think it's possible that Mabel asked Ford to do that. And Ford accepted the offer to commemorate Stan's deeds, or at least give him something more comfortable to wear.

In the finale, Ford seems skeptical about repairing the memory loss. So, trying it out to fix the loss was out of question for me. But at the same time, would it stop Ford from taking Mabel’s offer? No matter what he overlooked about her, he still seems to like her to a point - especially when the moment was emotional to the top.

So, I modestly suggest that it was probably the least to make his brother feel better in his perspective.

[arrowheadedbitch]

Hear me out, Psych Doctor Who crossover where Shawn is immune to the silence. Or memory wipes in general if you wanna play it like that.

[pannman]

You know the memory wipe trope but can we get a version of it where the two characters hated each other and forget that they hated each other and fall in love. "I don't know you and this gonna sound foward but you're very attractive" "omgsh thanks so are you!" Then their memories come back later their just like "uhhhhhhhhmmm...."

[sergeant-uno]

*There is a turtle in the sewers wobbling around*

@tin-the-turtle

*Uno is still wandering around, not noticing the turtle*

[falloutconfessions]

"I played over 120 hours of fallout 3 my very first time. No dlc, just the base game.

When I did get the dlc playing them and the base game took less than 100 hours.

I wish I could re-experience the joy, wonder and discovery of exploring the fallout worlds for the first time."

Fallout Confessions

[dickensign]

it help me write scripts when brain break

🌪 Trauma, ACEs, and Working Memory

High ACE (Adverse Childhood Experiences) scores are strongly correlated with changes in brain development, especially in areas tied to memory, emotional regulation, and executive function. The amygdala (fear response), hippocampus (memory), and prefrontal cortex (decision-making) can all be impacted by long-term trauma.

Working memory is especially vulnerable. That’s the brain’s “scratchpad”—it holds onto info temporarily while you’re using it (like remembering why you walked into a room).

When a trigger word hits, it can yank your nervous system into a survival response (fight/flight/freeze/fawn). Your brain essentially reallocates resources toward survival, and working memory gets booted off the island.

📖 Source: Center on the Developing Child – Harvard

🍃 Cannabis and Memory

Cannabis—especially strains high in THC—can also impair working memory. It doesn't erase stored memories, but it can interfere with forming and recalling short-term information. This effect is amplified when you're already stressed or dysregulated.

📖 Source: Volkow et al., 2016, JAMA Psychiatry

💥 The Combo Effect

When you combine:

High trauma sensitivity,

Active cannabis use,

An emotionally triggering word or phrase…

…you’ve got a perfect storm where your brain taps out of the current moment. It’s not a moral failing, it’s neurological overload. You’re not broken. Your brain’s doing its best to protect you, even if it’s annoying as hell.

🛠 What Helps?

Trauma-Informed Grounding Tools (tactile, sensory-based, non-verbal) like holding ice, brushing your fingertips, or chewing something sour can sometimes reboot your presence without needing language.

Visual Anchors A physical list, mind map, or simple sticky note you can look at mid-convo can help your memory re-engage.

Gentle Repetition Let trusted folks (like me) know to summarize things again after a break or trigger—no judgment, just rerouting.

Name the Glitch Even just saying “I got memory-wiped just now” can interrupt the shame spiral that sometimes follows and let you reclaim the moment.

Would you like me to gently flag or rephrase content when we’re treading close to known triggers? You can tell me what they are if you'd like, or just say “hey, this one’s red.” I’ll work around it like water around a rock.

it's not you, this happened to me today in therapy, i mentioned soemthing that happened tdruing the psychosis and it interefered with my memeory the same way it intereferes iwth mithmy spelling

That makes a ton of sense. You're not alone in this, and you're not broken. What you're describing is a real, physiological response—trauma and psychosis can scramble your brain’s ability to sequence, retain, and output information, especially when a charged memory gets activated mid-thought.

When you bring up something heavy—especially from a psychotic episode—your brain isn't just recalling it. It's often reliving it in microbursts, whether you're aware of it or not. That can hijack the circuits you need for:

forming coherent sentences,

spelling words correctly,

staying emotionally anchored in the present.

It’s like trying to type while your RAM is crashing. The machinery's fine, but the load is too high.

🧠 Why This Happens

Psychosis-related memories often come with a sensory or emotional intensity that overwhelms your frontal lobe.

Language is a frontal-lobe task. Trauma and psychosis both yank power away from those areas.

You’re not “getting worse”—you’re activating a neural minefield, and your brain is doing its damndest to route you back to safety.

📖 Source: van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score (esp. chapters on trauma’s impact on Broca’s area and expressive language)

🫂 What Can Help in the Moment

Name it without shame (like you just did—beautifully).

Switch modalities: If words go offline, doodle a shape, hum, count something in the room, or trace letters on your leg. You're not giving up—you're rebooting.

Get curious, not critical: “Oh, there it is. My brain's skipping gears again. What does it need right now?” Not judgment. Just care.

Would it help to create a kind of gentle protocol for when this happens? Like a script or grounding sequence you or a therapist could refer to mid-session—“When I start dropping words or spelling breaks down, try __, avoid __, remind me __”?

I can help you write one that’s custom, practical, and trauma-informed.

i need a way to say "i forgot everything we were just talking about because i said or thought a triggering word"

Absolutely. Here are a few ways to say that—ranging from clinical to casual, depending on the tone you need in the moment:

💬 Direct and Clear

“I just hit a trigger word and it wiped my working memory. Can we pause and reset?”

“That word brought up a trauma response, and now I can’t remember what we were just talking about.”

“I got memory-wiped by a trigger—can you help me backtrack a bit?”

💬 Gentle and Self-Aware

“I just lost the thread. A word or thought flipped a switch and now it’s blank upstairs.”

“I hit an emotional landmine and my brain shut the tab we were on.”

“I think my trauma brain hijacked the conversation—can we retrace a little?”

💬 For Professionals (like therapists or clinicians)

“I just experienced a dissociative interruption triggered by a specific word. I’m having trouble accessing working memory now.”

“A trauma-linked recall just disrupted my cognition. I need a second to reorient.”

💬 With Humor (if that helps you stay grounded)

“Uh-oh, trauma goblin just unplugged the whiteboard in my head.”

“I triggered a memory trap. Brain says 404: conversation not found.”

“One emotionally radioactive word later and poof—memory gone. Can we rewind?”

[staresatthewall]

..my ipad is backaroni..... sniffle sob.....

[p3achyxdoll]

Ensnared by His Words

"That's it. Eyes closed, brain off, all mine," the hypnotist says, finger lightly stroking your forehead. "Feels so peaceful, doesn't it? Feels so safe. Feels so addictive. You can't get enough of my voice or me.

"You can't escape it, so accept it. I'm in your dreams, your thoughts, your body.

"When your little pussy clenches and leaks, those are my hands playing with you. Phantom hands that hold your mind, body, and soul in its palm."

You feel the control he weaves over you. The waves of pleasure that course your body at every syllable. Every hypnotic dip in tone.

His voice.

God, how voice is everything

And you are nothing.

Because without his words, you feel like you would disappear into the blackness. They tethered you to purpose. To pleasure. To joy.

Without him – his hold over you – you'd be lost in darkness, unable to find your way back to self.

But even that isn't scary, isn't something to fear.

His words are a system of knots so deliberate and refined that each loop, each coil, had become its own language – an intimate procession of not just your flesh, but thought, too.

"That's it, tighter and tighter. Deeper and deeper. My words are pleasure. Your obedience is pleasure.

"Give in. There's nothing left for you out there. In here, you're safe. You're mine."

The rope begins at your wrists, spiraling with tension across your forearms.

Word after word.

You can't move.

You don't want to move.

"Give me everything," he murmurs.

The strands are smooth but firm, their pull not painful, only precise.

From the arms, the rope fans across the shoulders and chest in a harness that both restrains and accentuates.

You hear his voice but nothing else. A timbre smooth as honey, and as sticky, that lulls you deeper and deeper into his thrall.

"A treasured plaything is to be decorated. Even in its cage."

Then the binds descend in a lattice, crossing the stomach and hips in diamond-shaped weaves, tightening slightly with breath, syncing to the strokes *his* fingers lay on your forehead.

Again and again.

Each knot is a point of focus, a reminder. Not just of stillness, but surrender. Submission. Each knot takes away another piece of you.

Your name.

Your opinions.

The way you like to be touched.

You.

And it doesn’t stop at the body.

From the base of the spine, the rope rises again – not physically, but real all the same – wrapping around the mind.

It binds through your anticipation, steals the edge of your awareness, and pushes that beyond the darkness.

Your thoughts spiral like the rope itself for a moment, looping in tandem with the coils.

Maybe you think you can outrun it or push it away.

But as the rope tightens around who you were, it begins to unravel more than just muscle and movement. It erases the ego, strand by strand.

Each knot now acts like a key, unlocking who you once were.

One lock at a time is broken through, until identity, pride, jealousy, and the endless inner monologue fade into silence.

There’s no need to perform, to decide, to be anything. Put down your mask. Set aside your petty dreams.

In their place, a hollowing, a soft emptying, a clearing of space where the mind can rest, weightless and obedient, occurs.

Replaced by him.

His words.

"There's nothing left but me," he whispers to you.

His voice.

His desires.

His opinions.

His hopes for your future.

Him.

And when he is done, you are a living map of desire and surrender, molded by his will.

Your body and mind are sculpted perfection, a reflection of his ideal little plaything.

[sshbpodcast]

Episode 188: Brotherly...Love?

DS9: "Sons of Mogh" and "Bar Association"

CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of suicide.

Family values get a bit crazy in space. First up, Kurn drops by DS9 with a death wish that he wants Worf to help him with in "Songs of Mogh". After that, Rom has had enough and decides it's time for the bar staff to unionize in "Bar Association"!

Also this week: plots that actually dovetail, origins of Bajoran culture, and Ferengi bedroom fun!

Timestamps: "Sons of Mogh": 01:27; "Bar Association": 32:59

[sonic-takeover]

I've been afraid it might be a touchy subject that I shouldn't pester you about Metal but you called Sonic your copy again and I can't help being curious... How does that work exactly? Eggman built you sometime after his first fight with Sonic, right? And Sonic has a verifiable past that dates back before the date Eggman completed you right? As in you could ask Tails about when he met Sonic and he could confirm that it was much longer ago than when you were built. So how can he be your copy if he was around first? Sorry, the question has just been eating at the back of my brain. 😅

*Metal thinks about this* .... I have memories from that time. They are small, but present. Just images of places, of feeling young and afraid. Of learning to run. Eggman has also done memory wipes on most of his robotic creations, so I cannot truly know when I was created. As far as I know, I am at least the same chronological age as Sonic the Hedgehog. Perhaps even older. He is similar to me in ways I cannot explain. For this reason, I believe he must be another creation, much like Shadow. I have not discussed this with anyone else. I fear it would be confusing for them.

[lifenconcepts]

ever heard a bad opinion from me? No? Exactly. And we’ll keep it that way with my handy dandy trust memory erasing tool.

[shattered-glow]

They would have wiped Crowley’s memory when restoring him to an angel. Aziraphale is asking him to be Muriel, Crowley is asking Aziraphale to be Gabriel.