#memory corruption

[the-most-humble-blog]

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🌀 YOUR AFTERNOON MINDFUCK

How certain are you of your memories? No—really certain. How much did you add? How much are you still adding?

Are you remembering the memory, or the memory of the memory? Because if it’s the second one— the original’s already gone. Buried. Glitched. Dust in your neural archive.

Let’s be honest: You can’t even trust your memory of a few days ago. And you want to bet your sanity on what happened two years back? Cute.

Want a demo? You say her shirt was green. I say:

“You’re insane. Her shirt was blue. What’s wrong with you?” And now your grip slips.

I double down:

“I know—I was there. I helped her pick it out. I’m gonna tell her you forgot the color she wore.”

And suddenly— you’re questioning everything. Your brain’s already bending, already rebuilding the lie I gave it, because my certainty beat your uncertainty.

And the truth? I lied. Made it up on the spot.

And now it’s your memory. Contaminated. Corrupted. Owned.

Mental sleight of hand. Simple. Surgical. Cruel.

Just a little reminder: Your brain isn’t a vault. It’s a rumor mill.

Sleep well.

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[thepandalion]

ok no I need to talk about this

the reason ralsei is changing is because of susie

the way he said it, darkners that are based on memories of loved ones can "only appear in specific darkness". meaning, originally, ralsei was kris' memory

and, similarly, gerson was presumably Alvin's?

except. gerson came back. it's the third sanctuary. a different dark world. but he's still here. and why?

because SUSIE remembers him. she wrote alvin the letter from him. she fought him and won and came back to look for him. because now he's in her memories, too.

following that logic, of course ralsei is in her memories too. more prominently, too, each time she returns to an adventure. he strays further from the blurry memories kris has, into something that's both theirs and hers

and, while we're at it, maybe ours, too. we shape him with our choices because we're part of this team too

[allimili]

i normally dont send asks because im shy but your elysia! yn posts gave me brain worms...... imagine... shadow milk and elysia yn doomed lovers... imagine the angst...

Just a memory.

[beebfreeb]

To all my long-term followers: You have to look through all of my art and deduct exactly what's wrong with me. I know you can do it by now.

[glitchgh0sty]

No real context,, just messing around with the Decepticon Prowl design 😌🫶

Imagining that he might be able to integrate himself into the databases and tech almost like an extension of his conscience or body,,

Hol up,, what if he was able to move it as well!? As in, maybe the advancements Shockwave gave Prowl allow him to connect to any database, and just, move it around?? From security cameras, to artillery,, he could fight from a distance! Quietly, but effectively? All sharpshooter like!? 🤨,

Imma just let that thought rotate around for a bit,, don’t mind me, 🙌TuŤ

The nonexistent context ✨

[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. . ."

[deerdogs]

ignore my 82648837 different art styles i change brushes a lot. What’s up i missed him so bad Check tags for rambling and stuff

[nikolutke]

Guarding your soul

[squidcandy]

siblings in every lifetime

[m0e-ru]

say cheese !

[0vergrowngraveyard]

Since you're doing the Frontiers Lil!Tails AU, how do you think the 2 cutscenes, one where Tails asks Sonic if he's a burden and the other where Sonic gives him the title of "partner", would go differently since the dynamic is a bit different?

(I chose those cutscenes in particular because they're my favorite moments between the two and wanted to see your take on it due to how obsessed I'm getting with the AU itself :p)

the difference is that instead of an 8 yr old going on a solo trip around the world, it’s a 2 yr old

nah but there would definitely be a difference. since lil tails hasn’t been through nearly as much as regular tails has, there wouldn’t be either of those conversations (very unfortunate since im also obsessed with those cutscenes)

i think chaos island would play out differently in general tbh. sonic’s not gonna leave his baby bro on this own while he collects the chaos emeralds. tails is right next to his big bro the entire time (except for when he’s doing random parkour and stages, then he parks his little tushy in one spot and waits for sonic to return). traversing the island does take a lot longer, but it’s worth it in sonic’s eyes since he doesn’t want to leave his scared baby bro all alone

since lil tails is a toddler and doesn’t have enough life experience to go through major character development, i think chaos island would focus more on sonic and how he’s deteriorating. whenever he reassures tails that everything will be ok, he’s also telling himself that. it will be ok. he needs to save his friends, his baby brother. everything will be ok as long as they’re all safe. he just needs to keep fighting

also the cyber corruption is pretty bad yeah, but this dude can’t hold his baby brother and honestly that might be worse

anyway, i don’t really have any set ideas for lil tails in frontiers but getting an actual story down would be pretty fun lol

[seraphont]

Is there lore reason why Tessa doesn’t unsubscribe from cyn NORNVPN subscription? Is she stupid?

She is stupid… 😔

but yes LMAO there is a lore reason. When she got booted up in her new body -Cyn’s old one- the antivirus got set off. It considers Tessa as “foreign code”, a threat (shoe doesn’t fit situation).

she’s effectively getting beat up from the inside. (And the outside if u consider her body falling apart) anything intrusive or stressful to her system causes the antivirus to agro on her, so they can’t exactly access her head.

she’s stuck in a rough spot of not being able to transfer until she figures out how to stop the antivirus.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

I should work on the next Cat Stan Short! (makes this instead)

Anyway.

Bill doesn't know how long he's in the theraprism. Seconds blend into minutes into hours into days into weeks into years into centuries into millennia on and on until time becomes a blur and feelings fade away with memories. Voices he once knew are hazier then the faces they belonged to, and those faces are smudges with sounds instead of names.

Who was that human he was so obsessed with again? There was one, but perhaps the other....?

Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore.

Not the smudges or sounds or voices. Not time or who he was or where he wanted to go.

It took millennia upon millennia to the edge of time and back, but he's ready.

He's going to be reborn.

A different time.

A different place.

As someone new.

Free from everything he was or did.

A fresh start.

With a final bow, Bill Cipher closes his eye one last time-

-And Stanford Filbrick Pines opens his.

The person Stanford used to be is a distant thought in the back of his mind. Like a dream he can't quite remember. He doesn't pay it too much attention, because he's got much more important things to worry about.

Like his freakish hands, the scorn of his peers, the coldness of the hospital, and the fact he can't tear all of it to pieces and burn it to the ground. Whoever he used to be, as distant and smudged as they were, used to wield powers beyond his wildest dreams.

Leaving him with nothing but the desire to see the playground burn to the ground, and nothing to show for it but his brother poking him in the forehead and laughing at his pouty expression.

His brother.

Thats the one part in his new life he knows he lucked out on. As terrifying and haunting as the dreams of who he was are, there's one solid fact that stands out and burns across his heart whenever he tries to sneak a peek. That person, as dead and dust as they are, was alone. They didn't have anyone truly on their side, and they kept burning and burning and tearing things apart to fill that empty void inside of them.

Stanford doesnt need to do that, because he has Stanley. Stanley, his twin brother, who stuck with him through thick and thin, stood up for him when the shame of his hands became to much (Even now, even here, he was always a freak), was his loyal partner in crime and the person he could count on to soothe the raging flames that hungered and cried for him to launch himself at Crampelter and tear his face off.

Stanley doesn't have a person who he was, not like Stanford. (he'd asked once, long ago, about the memories that whispered in his mind. Stanley had just given him an odd look, then told him to get more sleep). He was normal, with regular hands, regular brains, and an understanding of people Stanford knows he used to have (or thought he had) but now lacks.

He lacks a lot of things in his new life, but that's fine. This is a fresh start.

And Stanley was the worlds gift to him. Finally, someone who'd never leave his side. His own person, who's loyalty would never waver, who'd never scheme against him, who is his in every sense of the word.

(That piece of who he was screams and cackles and cries at this. It is the best outcome. It is the worst outcome. It is exactly as it should be).

But there is one thing that bothers him about his brother. One piece that tickles the back of his mind whenever they run and play and cause chaos across this tiny pathetic town they called home.

Stanley did not have memories of who he was, but the person he was right now was.. oddly familiar. Whenever they roam the beach and find something washed ashore in the distance, Stanley's first words are always "I wonder if its a dead body!" Whenever they find rats, twisted and dead along the pier, either from poison or some other means, he always shouts "this is the greatest thing i've ever seen!" When the bullies get too much, and Stanford shoves his hands somewhere no one can see them, Stanley throws his arm around Stanfords shoulders and always says "Someday we'll show them, we'll leave this town in the dust and they'll all be sorry."

Which wouldn't be strange, but as they grow and grow and get older and Stanford learns how to hear the whispers of Before, he finds that Stanley's words echo and harmonize with the voice of Who He Was more and more, until they almost seem to speak together more than apart. Whoever Stanford used to be, Stanley is them in miniature. Stanley's smaller, of course, and less grand and powerful, but there's a thread there that Stanford can't ignore. Something inside him screams that there's a connection, and he just doesnt know how to find it.

It pokes at his thoughts more and more as they get older, go to high school, and Stanley keeps being the echo chamber and shadow of Stanfords previous self. Stanford has grown far beyond that part of him, is different in ways they couldn't hope to achieve, has found new passions in showing off with his mind instead of his might. None of these small minded humans have even a fraction of the knowledge he was born with or devoured growing up. None of them understand the music of the universe or how to twist physics. Stanfords powers are gone, but his mind is still here, and he uses it to excel more and more, dragging Stanley with him as he reaches higher and higher.

Stanley is his brother after all, his eternal companion. If Stanfords going towards the top, then Stanley will too. Even if every day Stanford gets more and more frustrated with his inability to apply himself. He knows his brother can excel if he wants to (maybe not as well as Stanford, but better than he currently is) and doesnt understand why he doesnt.

But its fine. Stanford's going places, and Stanley will follow.

And then its their final year, once high school is done he'll go to college, get a degree, then become world famous. Stanley will be by his side, cheering him on as the embers of what he was finally fade in the light of his soon to be fame.

And then its the science fair.

Then West Coast Tech.

Then the presentation.

And Stanford's fury reignites those embers into an inferno, and he is so full of rage the gaping void that he'd spent seventeen years filling bursts open.

Betrayal.

From the one who was his.

Its terrible in its familiarity.

He watches from the window as the person who was supposed to be his partner, who was supposed to be by his side and help put the terrible specter that screeched in the back of his mind to rest, gets tossed out. Tries to figure out what his purpose was, if all he was going to do was push Stanford to be his best self, then pull the rug out from beneath him and leave him floundering.

Why even have a twin, if all he was going to do was make Stanford feel worse than before. How could he, who in another life reigned terror the likes his current one couldn't comprehend, get saddled with some tiny speck of a human who selfishly-

and then he sees it.

As Pa slams the door, and Stanley tightens his fists, there is a spark.

Blue flames, dancing across his fingers as his brother looks up at Stanford in the window. For the first time in their lives Stanley is facing dire consequences for his actions. For the first time in his life, Stanley is shaken to the core as he looks up at Stanford, face full of desperation. For the first time in their lives, Stanley might lose Stanford forever.

And suddenly the connection that has been poking at the back of Stanfords mind his entire life blazes.

He was powerful, once, an eternity ago. More powerful than anything here or anywhere could imagine. The reasons and whys and hows escape him, but he knows power like that can't be destroyed. Stanford didn't have a drop of it, so it must have gone somewhere.

Into another vessel, the unexpected child, when every doctor swore up and down Ma was only going to have one. A funny story to tell relatives, another reason to distrust hospitals, an odd thing, that every test showed one babe, and then there were two.

Unless whatever process turned who they were into Stanford couldn't handle what he was bringing with him. Unless the excess, the raw power and the personality imprinted on it, was given a hastily made last minute form. Unless they were split in two, so that they'd never be alone again.

Not just his partner.

Not just his twin.

Not just his human, to drag and keep and be his.

His literal other half, who held all of their power and not a thought on how to use it.

A part of him wants to shove the curtain closed. To turn his back on the part of himself that couldn't handle his success. To go on and grow up and finally be his own separate person. To maybe watch from afar as the power he knows is hungrily sitting inside of his brother explode and tear the world asunder.

It would be.... hilarious, to watch Stanley fall apart and not understand why.

But not as hilarious if he accidentally incinerated Stanford, the only one who could help him manage their flames.

And whatever else was bubbling deep inside Stanley's soul.

Stanford raises his hand, watches the tentative smile spread across Stanley's face, and bursts into action. He is furious, but more than that he's curios.

and hungry.

What else can Stanley do, what else carried over to their new lives. He pokes and prods at the pieces of who they were, watches hazy visions of fire, of Sight, of bending the rules of the universe until they broke, even as he flings things into bags and chucks them out of the window down below.

How much is there still, and how much can Stanley use before their meager human vessels fall apart.

Not that Stanford would let that happen.

Stanley owes him after all, and he's going to make sure Stanley pays up until their both standing on top of the world.

Together.

[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.

[asavt]

[ Reflection ] About yourself.

Was listening to Shunkan Sentimental by SCANDAL at like 10 p.m. and stayed up until 4 a.m. to work on this. I didn't finish it right away tho, I still had to sleep.

Two extras below read more!

[mionkings]

Making Heads Turn 🫨

Jason had become a father to a little baby boy, taking him in when he found the poor thing on the streets, in a cardboard box, wrapped in a space themed blanket.

While the obstacles a new parent goes through is tough. He knows it's worth it to have Danny, his baby, his son in his life. He doesn't regret adopting him.

Danny is now at the stage of his little life that he babbles and giggles, Jason always had fun having a conversation with his baby. Although Jason's sure that his hair is getting whiter with the chaos Danny brings now ever since Danny's baby brain realized that he can CRAWL to PLACES >:D

However this new development... is a little strange.

Whenever Jason puts Danny down in his crib to make dinner or any other important errand. Danny will begin to babble to the air, as if his little tyke is trying to talk to someone, making grabbing hands and scooching over to grab someone's attention.

It sent a slight shiver down his spine...

Ever since he made his introduction to Gotham as Red Hood, for the first time to those gang leaders with the bang of the AK-47. Taking over the Gotham underworld by storm with anger and precision.

He always felt a chill down his spine... When he was alone, yet... the Pit Madness flared everytime, making him feel enraged and paranoid. As if he was just waiting for a fight... for a confrontation...

Being alone in his apartment, having nightmares, more like repressed memories of what he had done... Lots of things, but for some reason—his mind... keeps going back to the moment he threw that duffel bag at the table infront of the gang leaders that night... the night he went after the lieutenants, taking their heads.

He doesn't know why.

But ever since the precious cargo that was his baby Danny, arrived in his life. That all went away as he took care, fed, and loved his baby boy.

Jason never had an episode with Danny; he couldn't bare the thought of hurting the child.

Jason was even having less episodes when he was with the Bats!

The chills; however, Jason still feels them occasionally... but they would always disappear the moment Danny would demand attention or to nap.

And instead he would feel something else hang over his baby everytime Danny slept peacefully...

———

Second ever DPxDC prompt that I've ALSO been getting brainrot over ❤️ I'm having fun 😄

Basically this prompt idea is Jason adopting a baby Danny, while seemingly unaware that he's being haunted/watched by the people's he's killed to become a crime lord. More specifically, being haunted by the heads/headless ghosts of the lieutenants Jason killed as Red Hood.

While Jason can't seem to see them, he can feel 'chills' from them. Danny, however, CAN see them mostly because I based this on that thing where babies/toddlers can see spirits in those typical YouTube videos that list ToP 5 ScArY gHOstZ VidEOz!1!1

Whatever happened though, this causes the ghosts to instead focus more on Danny than on Jason.

How much will Jason freak the fuck out when he finds out? Who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Although Danny is absolutely having fun here ^^

Anyways, I might add extra stuff soon to this!