What's it called when I ❤️ my own posts?
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「 @egotisticle asked ― height meme: dark's 6'2 👉👈 」
shitting crying throwing up
send in your muses height and i’ll compare it to mia’s. || accepting.
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A FUCKED UP KISSING MEME [accepting] [x]
@egotisticle said: a kiss that won’t be remembered [for your iswm verse]
Trying your best isn't always enough; what's the plan for you, can I call your bluff?
I await the day that you will realize that it's all in your head; you've nowhere to hide.
Right by your side
I’m by your side
I’m not leaving for I loved you oh so much...
The halls are empty. What was once filled with life is so unbearably cold, lifeless. The expanse of space is but a mockery of the loneliness the girl feels. Her breathing is cold, filling the silence.
But in times of silence, the human brain substitutes. It creates images and sounds that aren’t really there, or at least, aren’t audible by people who could be present. In her skull is a ringing, like the sound of a distant bell, or feedback from a radio that couldn’t find stations to bounce off of. Or maybe the rattling gasha-gasha of bones, teeth of a skull clicking together as it neared her throat--
Robin exhales fiercely. Her blue eyes burn with oncoming tears. Slowly and shakily, she lifts her left hand. The blue crystal seated in her palm glows, steadily appearing to grow brighter. A sign that the next loop is about to begin. In moments, she would awaken from cryo-sleep.
Or maybe... Maybe she’d wake up in front of that Manor again. She could see that warm smile of a man she once knew, who she fought so desperately to see again. To save him from the Void.
Space is cold, empty. She never saw the appeal Mark did. But that was why he was Engineer, and she was merely Captain. But what had she done to earn this role?
(Let’s get this over with. Life is ours to choose, right?)
A sea of emotions. A colossal black hole, filling her, red and angry, contrasting that vibrant blue that reminds her only of her failure. Slowly, she walks to the back wall, opening the cabinet. Her hands clasp the fire extinguisher, the same way she had many loops before when trying to put out the cabin fire. There’s no fire this time. It’s silent. Empty. Cold.
The silence is torn asunder by a scream, raw and primal, as the Captain uses all her strength to fling the fire extinguisher across the room, watching it crash and destroy the main console mounted to the floor. The extinguisher clatters and spews white foam, then hisses and dies.
Robin stares, long and hard, as tears begin to pour from her eyes as they had done many times before in frustration and grief. What emergency lights begin to fizzle and die, battery power cut off by her rash decision to destroy whatever she could in her rage and despair.
Softly, she sobs, laughing pathetically. “I should have broken the window. Would have been faster!”
The cabin goes pitch black. All her eyes can make out is the faint sparks of dying wires, and the tiny pin-pricks of light the stars make from afar. So close, and yet so far. A pair of them glimmer like eyes, staring back at her.
The sun had given her this power to loop through time and space. Light cannot be constrained to time. But absence of light... The Dark... Again, she turned her eyes towards it, towards Him... Her hands lift, blue glowing brighter and brighter as she cups the face of the gray specter that taunts her. The girl smiles, brokenly.
“Maybe next time, I’ll know who you are. What you really want. But let’s get it out of the way... You’re not him. You’re not that man. You’re not Mark either. But that’s okay.” Closing the distance, her lips press to his own, tasting the cold expanse of space, of the mirror she had whispered her goodbyes to, all those years ago.
A smile, white teeth glinting blue as the crystal engulfs her soul again in light. As the universe caves in.
“I knew it. You’re my other half.”
When she’s aware again, the computer is blaring in her ears. Yet despite that dream fading from her cold-addled mind, she smiles. Light needs Dark. Robin would continue this fight, this endless maze... For him.
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🍻+ “ what’s your biggest secret? ”
( lost the prompt, but this was a drunken honesty meme. )
oswald runs his fingertip over the rim of his glass. he loses himself, momentarily, in the motion. round and round and round it goes ...
PERPETUALLY PLUNGING
DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
OF HIS STORIES.
❝ m'so fucking terrified. all the fucking time. i don't think i remember what it's like to not ... to not, feel, like i might as well be in a dead sprint, all, the TIME. ❞
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@egotisticle | continued
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❝ I separate those into two categories , of dreams and nightmares . Of the past and the future . I am given glimpses into later scenes rather I want to see them or I do not , a Deja Vu I read too late when it is already playing around me . ❞
There was a particular detail he was holding back , though it had always FADED AWAY as quickly as he jerks himself from bed or in a moment of deep exhaustion when looking too far where he could never really be apart of , a half minute to realize that the world he SLIPS INTO was not the same that promises him a more barren one .
❝ Have you seen that PLACE in your dreams ? The patchy grass and endless steep mountains , where you can only grasp right in front of your feet and no further . Were you angry or dying ? Were you chased ? ❞
FOREVER has it felt he had never truly escaped the manor , his own walls and doorways that lead to a perfectly mirrored world , only to step back out from under the surface . Only now to be faced with a reality not his own as his last thought being a RUSE , but rather an unknowing expanding that would not bump into each other . Continually passing by and stopping and starting in the middle of what ? What can you call the middle of something so big it lays in separate vessels but all feels the same ache , the same sadness yes but also curiosity , awareness , desolation and acceptance ? Like being aware of some great knowledge but deciding to do nothing with it .
Maybe because that was not a choice that was yours to make .
❝ Sometimes I would rather be asleep when I can recall my OWN lines and when I catch myself slotting into roles I thought I was fighting against . ❞
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027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?
﴾ 👁 ? ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ﹐ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ ¿ ≽ @egotisticle ﴿
𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, happiness seems saccharine to you; a thing that’s only doled out with winding strings or in fools dreams. you don’t pursue happiness in a traditional sense. ( you leave scorned lovers in your wake ﹠ ‘they all lived happily ever after’ in your rear view mirror ).
happiness, to you, is best described as a kind of satisfaction. so perfect happiness then, would be perfect satisfaction. to satisfy your curiosity. ( curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction -- )
you want to know, you want to understand everyone ﹠ everything. the beginning, the ending ﹠ all that expands in between. 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 ( maybe ) then you’ll understand yourself ﹠ what might actually make you happy.
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[ @egotisticle , continuing from ☆ ]
AFTER a rich profusion of cosmic horror and astronomical anomalies, a lungful of fresh air must have felt like a blessing. gone was the urgency of automated emergency responses and the need to remain resilient in the face of adversity; only a blue velvet sky laden with stars and the tranquility of nature awaited the human on the endless trail ahead. the captain had been freed from the shackles of the space vessel, liberated from culpability and the burden of choice. a respite from the crew members hadn’t been spoken from the other’s lips but such was the nature of a gift. they were at aphelion --- the furthest point away from all else, the furthest point away from reality’s reach.
YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THIS PLACE, NOT YET.
a wrinkled piece of paper on the ground had attracted the captain’s notice but as the flashlight steadied on the image and a closer look was taken, the picture abruptly obfuscated with a cacophonous crackle. surroundings stuttered with the unreliability of an aged television and both items were inexplicably confiscated without a trace, leaving the captain with only empty air and a muddled feeling that neither were meant to exist at all. an adjustment had been made to the ongoing narrative and the location underwent its apposite alteration.
from between the pine trees did viscous shadows crawl closer, kowtowing to an unseen force yet acquiescent to the dirt path’s boundaries. the darkness pooled around the human’s position with healthy curiosity but didn’t dare venture closer, not when the rolling breeze carried the echoes of their overseer’s footsteps and revelatory ringing became more discernible within the forest’s soundscape. although unseen down the lengthy trail, the source of the noise seemed to draw closer with every passing minute. nearer and nearer did it sound until the wind felt more like a phantom breath on the captain’s cheek. rustling leaves quieted down and the idle stirring of nocturnal animals followed suit. all became impossibly still and after an extended moment passed, the white noise released a humanlike sigh ---- one soon to be joined by a deeper voice, one that paved the way for a revelation.
the captain was no longer alone.
❝ ‘ non est ad astra mollis e terris via ’ ❞ words were spoken to the stars above with the worldly erudition of a scholar, unblinking stare admiring the evening sky and its constellations before lowering to meet the human’s. black hole eyes seized dark blue and a faint smile pulled at the entity’s lips. the quote had been chosen specifically for the captain and after its translation was provided, the being’s rationale became clear. ❝ ‘ there is no easy way from the earth to the stars. ’ ❞
an upturned hand silently invited the captain to walk alongside him as oxfords eased into a measured gait, strolling side by side while the human remained on the trail and the entity resided at its edge. from their sublunary vantage point could they safely admire the celestial bodies and constellations, untouched from temporal abrasions and induced madness. to some, the view might have been considered mundane but to others, ordinariness was a rare commodity. normality had its value, particularly to those who had become too closely acquainted with abnormality.
❝ after being pulled in so many different directions, i don’t expect that you’ve had much time to admire the stars. did you revel in their beauty when you first boarded the ship ? do you even remember what that felt like ? ❞ a hymn of static distantly stirred with the entity’s sigh, expelled in a single harmonized note as the question was held suspended in the air, ❝ that blissful state of ignorance ---- it didn’t last very long, did it ? if only you knew what awaited you back then. ❞
a layered laugh cascaded throughout the forest even though the suited being made no such sound, mirthless and hollow as it too assimilated into the white noise and was drowned out. the feigned amusement didn’t sound overly cruel, merely shrewd ---- the sign of a private joke not yet shared; nonetheless, eye contact and the persistent halved smile ensured that the captain felt involved throughout the conversation.
YOU STILL DON’T RECOGNIZE THIS PLACE.
❝ you won’t experience exactly the same feeling here but comparatively, it’s the closest you’ll come to reliving that moment. you’re off the edge of the map. you’re safe here. enjoy it, take a breath. you may never get another opportunity like this again. ❞
The stars were beautiful.
Hitting the ground roughly, Aster quickly shoved themself to their uneasy feet. Anything could pounce from the darkness, knock them down roughly again — yet they heard not a sound. Breezes between the branches of the trees which loomed around them were all that broke that tranquility of nature shrouded in darkness.
Stars. They flickered in the distance, coating the night sky in distant light. A sign that something was there. A light among the fear.
Isn’t that what you are meant to be, captain ?
Their foot caught the edge of the paper. A crinkling sound, and then it was silenced. Only a few steps further, and another anomaly had ensnared their attention. Attentive ears caught movement and heightened paranoia felt eyes upon them before a word was spoken into that dark night.
The silence broke again.
Meeting the being’s eyes felt like a battle. The mere sight of them wrought their chest with a weight, an ache they could not place the source of. It hid itself within with the exhaustion of their entire body. Pain blended together, blurring the lines between what was there and what was little more than a lingering memory.
They could scarcely distinguish the soreness in their shoulder from the phantom pain of the shot to their torso.
Wary eyes caught the extended hand. The captain could not trust anyone. They had learned that lesson quickly enough. That gesture of welcoming, that assurance of safety — it quarreled with their reason. A foot in the door that would so rapidly have been shut at the sign of a being they did not recognize.
Boots pressed into the earthy ground, leaving heavy footprints in their wake. Their steps went uneven. The moment the captain stopped running, it was as though their body were making to shut down. Steps were nearly stumbled in short sequence before the captain forced themself to regain their bearings. In even only that moment they had stopped as they stood earlier, their eyes had nearly fallen shut, head tilting to doze off before they snapped themself back to awareness.
They knew that they were there at the bridge. Where else could they have been ? The narrative wrapped around them like a blanket shielding them from what they knew was venturing too far. A false sense of security amongst the chaos. Walking too far meant finding answers they did not know they wanted to hear.
Of course I remember. Do you ?
Do you remember the cold metal walkway beneath your feet ? The stick of gloves against nervous palms ? The brush of hair against the back of your neck from the cold cooling unit, like a chilled finger running over your skin ?
If only you knew what awaited you.
I’ve been wanting to know that for longer than I can remember . . . since many stories ago.
Though the laugh made their shoulders tense and the hairs on the back of their neck stand at fearful attention, though their hands shook with a nervous tremor that had been present since the first disaster, that had always arisen in times of worry since long ago, before they could remember, Aster could do nothing to fight it. That being promised them safety. Though reason begged them to remain firm in wary disbelief, something within them told them otherwise. Told them to believe them.
“ Why are you helping me ? ”
Where am I ? Why am I here ?
Who are you ?
Though their question was not spoken aloud, the gestures it took to communicate it did as well a job to live up to their role as they could.
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[ ♚ ] ┄ #EGOTISTICLE. 21+. independent & private roleplay blog for 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑 from the web series, A DATE WITH MARKIPLIER, A HEIST WITH MARKIPLIER & IN SPACE WITH MARKIPLIER. CANON-DIVERGENT with strong horror themes, a focus on older canon material & personal character analysis. LAW ✦ ABOUT ✦ SOUNDSCAPE
♔ affiliated with LVCKYFLANNEL
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Hello I'm @emptynarration but I need. A new name.
So yeah!
Tagging all mutuals from over there to hopefully get over here haha
@alvieashgrove
@kevinzhechaircreations
@snarkyowl
@troiseh
@palpalbuddypal
@smallgayblanket
@hosting-hours
@egotisticle
@phd-in-horrible / @bcrnt-petcls
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DATING SIM TROPES ❤
REPOST and fill in with details about your muse as if they were a character in a Dating Sim. (Inspired by Huniepop)
NAME: yukiteru amano.
PROFESSION: student / diary holder / god (verse dependent).
WHERE THEY CAN BE FOUND:
morning: walking to school, eating breakfast in the morning, sleeping in, walking around the city with his face in his phone, being dragged somewhere by yuno or one of his friends.
afternoon: in class, eating lunch, walking home from school, being dragged somewhere by yuno or one of his friends, siting alone somewhere writing in his diary.
evening: walking home, being dragged somewhere by yuno or one of his friends, staying alone in his room like a loser, eating dinner.
night: sleeping, sitting alone in his room like a loser, being dragged somewhere by yuno or one of his friends.
FAVORITE FOOD TYPE: yukiteru is a basic bitch who would be content eating rice with soy sauce for the rest of his life if he could. but other than that he enjoys sweets of all kinds.
FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK: he is too scared to drink.
FAVORITE TRAIT (romance, passion, sexuality, talent, flirtation, sentiment, joy): sentiment.
WHERE THEY WOULD GO ON A DATE: probably somewhere with a lot of interesting things to see, such as a theme park or even a regular park. somewhere that they can walk around and people watch a bit. ideally nothing too over the top.
IDEAL GIFT: letters, dates, flowers, acts of service, favors.
HOW MANY DATES UNTIL THEY GO TO BED: it depends on the person, but considering how easily flustered he is, i think you at least need to be dating for a few months.
THREESOME?: the idea puts the fear of god into him. for multiple reasons.
tagged by: @arachnoheaux
tagging: @needsfirst, @averagetm, @cherryblossomdreamings, @egotisticle
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In every aspect is this accurate . I cannot help myself . And I will not apologize nor change .
@egotisticle @thelightfalls
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[ groom ]
non-sexual acts of dominance prompts.
oswald is reminded of the sensation of static cling. the brushing fingers through his curls, tucking them further out of his face, run somehow burn and soothe at the same time. it's almost as if a tangled knot of tension releases within him, but the sharp tang of fear pollutes his relief.
the boy feels as if he should flinch away, but he doesn't, remaining still. staring up into the eyes of the man before him, whose hand lingers along the side of oswald's head, not making any move to pull away just yet.
oswald is homesick for a place he cannot remember and that he is afraid to visit. that is the POWER this being holds over him. it shakes him down to his core, and yet he craves it, like an addict scrambling for a fix. he doesn't know how to better describe it. he doesn't know what he's going to do with it. hell, he doesn't even know if he SHOULD do anything about it.
he leans into dark's hand, just so. for now, maybe this is alright.
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Someone else? Just like me? Illegal
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﴾ 👁 ? ʀᴇϙᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ﹐ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ ¿ ≽ @egotisticle ﴿
𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖. it’s been a while. mostly, you do other things, you do everything you can, all that you should, ﹠ all that you shouldn’t just for good measure. this was probably best categorized in the latter. you’ve come back. you don’t expect anything to happen, really.
he never said it would meet demand.
you extract a folded paper from within your blazer ﹠ hold it out to the entity. it’s faded, worn thin around the creases, coffee ringed ﹠ blood spattered ( not all yours, but most ). 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚈𝚁. it’s been a while. if he doesn’t take it, it’s simply placed on the desk instead.
Lh3EeEeR9z59YWcUB2b7ViHJ8ALQ637 says the paper.
﹠. // ᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀʟʟ.
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There is no true gratification in seeking to be right, for even a fool amongst other fools agree in their foolishness. But instead one should seek to gain wisdom, for with wisdom comes protection and with egotism comes destruction.
"Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you."
- Proverbs 4:6
"Pride comes before destruction, and an arrogant spirit before a fall."
-Proverbs 16:18
"Fools find no pleasure in understanding but delight in airing their own opinions."
-Proverbs 18:2
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