#memory drain

[animationnumber51]

Thoughts on memory drain?

It's so good. Like, you drain someone's memories, you drain a part of them, you know? So much of a person is formed by their experiences, and you can just drain that away~

[collegeboysam]

do we think armand looks so bothered when daniel tells him "i don't forgive you. you were going to drain me, pal" because the whole time armand's remembering how daniel did not only forgive him back in the day, he used to beg on his fucking knees for armand to use his powers and feed from him during sex. and now he has to stand in front of amnesia-induced daniel decades later and act guilty about it while bitterly thinking "boy, drinking your blood and throwing you around with my mind used to be our foreplay. you would whine for it like a puppy and behave like a brat whenever i didn't indulge you with it. but yeah sure NOOOW you want me to be sorry 😒"

[maniccherrygirl]

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #20

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Other ideas relating to the prompt

✦

To Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Jason stayed dead for about six months before he was resurrected. That left his spirit plenty of time to fully manifest in the ghost zone, but time flows a little weird in the Infinite Realms so it feels like he's been dead a lot longer.

Regardless, six months is enough time for him to make plenty of friends and enemies alike. Enough to fall head over heals for the white-haired boy named Danny who just so happens to also be his king. Enough time for Jason and Danny to finally confess their feelings for each other and form a relationship. Enough time for them to grow to adore each other down to their very cores. Enough time for Jason to become the King's consort and earn the title of Prince of the Infinite Realms.

Not enough time, however, when Jason's spirit is unwillingly dragged back to the broken husk of his body buried in a coffin six feet under. Not enough time when the sheer amount of trauma his body and mind suffered causes his memories of the afterlife to sift out like grains of sand through a colander, mindless in his continued existence and search for a man named Bruce that he only half recalls.

Not enough time for when his body is stolen and dunked into the foulist pools of ectoplasm to ever surface in the living world and he comes back with unbridled rage he only half understands. Where is he? Where was he? Why does green flood his vision? Something is missing but why can't he remember? He shouldn't be here. Why was he here?? (1)

Jason tries to navigate his way through the world he'd previously left behind and discovers what happened after his death. The Joker was still alive. Another child was running around in a traffic light costume in the dead of night. Bruce had replaced him, seeming to forget he ever existed and the consequences of training a child to be a vigilante. That just won't do. He cries. He rages. He plans.

Meanwhile, the King of the Infinite Realms is apocalyptic over the fact that his lover was ripped from his arms, their kingdom, their home. He can sense Jason's torment like echoes in a cave. Can sense when his body enters the fringes of his territory when dunked into the toxic Lazarus waters created by the previous king. How dare they taint his lover's spirit with such filth?! Danny's core rears its head, chanting, growling to protect his soulmate.

Danny is beyond unhappy and he's about to make it everyone's problem.

✦

Notes:

(1) Jason forgets everything he experienced in the afterlife with Danny and is even more confused than he previously would have been when resurrected. Memories only come back to him in bits and pieces when he comes into contact with beings of the supernatural and Danny himself or possibly when he sleeps.

(*) I believe an interesting way to show the events and progression for this prompt would be to switch back and forth between the current events of Under the Red Hood/Phantom's anger and the days they spent together in the Infinite Realms before they were literally torn away from each other. Either as standalone info or through the dreams Jason has as he sleeps but doesn't remember when he wakes.

The events of Under the Red Hood still happen, there's just the question of where he even was for the six months that he was dead added into the equation. Dead on Main tossed in there for flair, because why not? Been seeing a lot of "Jason becomes Danny's Fright Knight" fics, but I wanna see one where they're literally just a royal couple who rule the Infinite Realms with a just and fair hand.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[lunarkittenn]

I rarely take pictures anymore. It’s like I just don’t want to remember any moment from this part of my life lol

[slyratex]

Sucked dry

It was a complex spell. But when you saw me in the hotel I spent my vacation in your home town in, you instantly knew I was the right person to try it on. I had many of the attributes you were looking for to test your skills. A young student, an intellectual, an artist. Shy and benign. Slim, androgynous, smooth, naive and unseasoned. So you offered me a drink to lower my defense. Started small talking, nodding and agreeing with everything I said to make me incautious. You complimented on the four traits of mine you admired the most: My rather androgynous appearance, my intelligence, my gentle character and my youthful spirit. I didn’t even get suspicious that you might be after exactly these treasures of mine. And when I was intoxicated and my emotions were putty in your hands, you offered to bring me back to my hotel room.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you pushed me inside, threw it shut and me onto my bed. I stood no chance, dizzy and clumsy as I was, and in mere seconds you positioned me lying in front of you, legs spread open, ass up in the air, offered to you like an open door. You slid kneeled on my bed and slid your shaft inside me, filling my tight hole as far as it went.

Then you started humping me while wanking my cute dick off. I couldn‘t resist, not in actions and not even in words. Your spell had already begun to show its effects on me. You leaned down over me and gave me a forceful kiss, sucking on my mouth and tongue mercilessly to extract the attributes from your victim that you had been looking for.

First you sucked the feminine beauty out of me. As your skin became smoother and your main hair longer and thicker, you saw my hair thin out and my face being manned up by short stubbles. My face became sharper and more defined whereas yours softened. I lost the memories of being a girlish boy and suddenly remembered being a typical rascal in my youth, a misbehaved boy known for showing typical behaviour for boys.

You also sucked my innocence from me, turning me into a smoker from my early adolescence, and making me less naive and more keen. The boy you saw first slowly disappeared as his defining attributes went over to you, substituting him with the guy below.

But you weren‘t finished yet. You sucked harder and the more you sucked, the more of my intellect you drained out of me. While your IQ rose by at least 60 points, making you a real master mind, mine fell by the same degree, leaving me with a brain so degraded it could barely handle simple math operations. You turned an all A student into a moron, a dim-witted idiot with sleepy eyes, not thinking about any complex or abstract ideas. As my memories were altered further, removing my great high school career and adding memories of bunking off school to meet with my friends in the woods experimenting with alcohol and cigars, my body transformed further, my beard growing, my style in clothes changing. Every thrust of your lower body against my ass banged away another piece of the puzzle that made up my once complex personality.

There still was a way to go. You had to change my whole personality, as you wanted to have everything I had. The character so many liked me for would certainly be a nice addition to your curriculum. You stripped me of my gentleness, my generosity, my shy and reluctant behaviour, all the things which people found cute about me. As my lungs and my heart turned more black and my education was erased, I started to think of the many fights I had when I was a young adult. How many nights I had to spent in jail. My hair receded further and became thinner, leaving me almost bald, but my beard grew thick and long and gave me a fierce look. Nothing was left of my trustworthy face. Tattoos appeared on my skin, making my appearance fit my character. In this new person there was no room for creativity, for philosophy, for an interest in art and literature. All this became totally irrelevant to me, while you took my talents in these areas from me and added them to your own perks. You knew people would love you for your charisma from now on, while I had become a guy causing those who I held close before our encounter to change the side of the street to avoid him.

One last step to make your spell complete. You still had one of my traits to steal. So you sucked and sucked, humping me more violently and speeding up your hand movements to jerk me off. I spasmed and cramped as my body underwent the hardest change of this transformation. Dizzily looking up to you and down on me I saw the traces of age the years had left on your body disappear. You became younger. How many years, I can‘t say. As many as separated you from the age of a college student. You felt your health improve, you became more athletic and more beautiful.

Meanwhile I experienced the opposite. You drained all of my youth from me you needed to reach the age I had before, but I grew older and older. My face was marked by wrinkles, my beard grew thicker, longer and greyer. More smoke filled my lungs and my belly inflated until it fitted a middle-aged man who obviously had enjoyed his life. My personality, already stripped of my high intellect and my well-educated character, now completed the U turn as most of my conditioning changed, everything I grew up with in the late 90s and early 2000s was deleted and the millennial in me basically died. He made place for an early Gen X man or even a late boomer. And this changed everything for me. I suddenly remembered many years that had never been there before. I had grown up with far more conservative values, I had a wild youth and then settled for a more traditional life. I had spent decades working a blue collar job.

And as I realised what was happening, a gigantic orgasm built up inside me. I tried to stop it as I wanted to resist the transformation that had already happened, but it was too late. I started grunting with a deep, manly voice, rough from all the decades of smoking and drinking. Meanwhile the twink boy humping me let out a high and girlish scream. You released the last shots of spunk that were produced by your old self into my ass to give the last of the properties that you wanted to leave behind to me.

Simultaneously, I ejaculated the last remains of who I was into your hands. I cursed in my mind, but with the first shot, my anger over the transformation disappeared. The second shot I released released me from any other negative feelings about this, leaving me with a neutral attitude towards your deed. The third shot came and I started to like it. A fourth shot of cum turned that into joy and acceptance, as I realised it wasn‘t so bad after all. The orgasm continued with a fifth shot that awoke a certain gratitude to you. With the sixth shot the new personality and the evaluation of it as not only something acceptable, but even something preferable to what was before was completely embedded in my mind. And then the last, the seventh shot of spunk left me and with it went every last rest of who I was, including the memory of this evening. As the orgasm ebbed away, I didn‘t even know anymore I was transformed, as your spell was complete.

I lied on the hotel bed exhausted, looking down on my body. I was fat, old, bearded, hairy, scruffy, rough, bearish, tattooed, greying, wrinkled, a full man. Well, the man I always was. Lighting up a smoke I looked at the twink kneeling in front of me. You pulled your dick out of my ass while licking up the jizz from your fragile hands. What a filthy millennial bitch you are! You gave me a horny grin and stood up. You put the money into your bag. Now that I tried the passive role for the first time, I knew it wasn‘t for me. „How about we do it the other way around and I show you how it actually works?“, I mocked you. „Sorry, but you didn‘t pay for that,“ you replied and gave me a wink, „I know you crave a beautiful young lad like me. But this was a one time thing and I think it is time you start looking for guys in your league again, gramps.“ Before I could complain, you left my hotel room. I stroked my hairy belly, and as soon as the door fell shut behind you, I started wanking my thick, manly cock again, fantasising about fucking the enviable young twink I will probably never meet again. I wonder what his life is like…

[screwpinecaprice]

Got my first display tab! And the first thing I tested it with is an anime Connie sketch lol.

HUGE thank you to my supporters at Ko-fi, as that's where I got the funds. 😊😊🤗💕

Seems needed time to get used to, and I use more shortcut keys than the number of shortcut buttons on the tab; but I am already loving the it so far! My laptop, on the other hand, is not handling it too well. 😅

[xskyll]

Page 15, for the second time! Apologies to those that saw the version I posted last night with the typo. My days lately have been busy, so sometimes I feel a bit brain foggy. A couple of people left comments on either here or Twitter and it killed me to delete everything. ;_;

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First

[alluralater]

"can't believe i was so childish back then" talking about something i did three days ago

[mystical-one]

WARNING IM GOING TO BE HONEST AND EARNEST HERE. i really unironically unconditionally liked now and then

[starlonga]

[izzydaninja]

When you spend hours of your day, working on a piece that you really want to make, and you're actually decently happy with the result, but end up overwriting the original document with a rough sketch of another WIP...

This shot was a picture I made for Sonic X Shadow Generations: One Step Forward, and Falling Back.

I was pretty happy with how it turned out, since it's one of the few pictures I've done with real improvement since my first time really drawing Sonic or Shadow, which was... over a year--to two years ago? Don't remember how long it's been, but anyway, I was happy with this.

Then, opening Photoshop to sketch some more, I noticed the document for it, wasn't listed in my 'Recents,' and was confused, until I saw the title for it, was listed, but with a different WIP sketch, instead. So, I ended up overwriting the previous save of the document of this finished shot of Shadow and Maria, without knowing it. So that document doesn't exist anymore, and I'm so mad about it!

It literally drained whatever motivation I had to draw... Like- COME ON!!! All that work!

[000marie198]

Sonic...

Buddy

HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT DEAD?!

[2smolbeans]

Gonna be on hiatus for a while. I'll be lurking around and maybe organizing this blog- but I'll post a lot once I'm back

[0rchidm4ntis]

At least the moon will keep him company in the dead of night