#i love uni but sometimes i hate uni

[bluishfrog]

Hi hello how hare hyou?

I wanna set my assignment on fire

[riicky-ye]

Guys, we don’t talk enough about the depth of Furina’s grief over Focalors. Allow me to fix that.

Imagine: you wake up in the middle of an empty stage, a voice calling you. You don’t know who or what you are, you don’t know where you are, but the voice calls you Furina and you know it’s your name.

Then you see the mirror and there’s you, too! Your name is Furina, then there’s a mirror — the Mirror — talking to you, and of course there’s the lines of a prophecy carved into your very being. You know absolutely nothing besides that. How and why did you get on this stage, how old are you, what’s your favourite colour (you wear blue tailcoat so it must be blue), who named you Furina and where you’ve been before.

Everything is blurry and fogged and your head hurt thinking about it. So you stop thinking. You brush those questions off and try to never recall they exist somewhere in your mind — you have a more important thing to do.

That’s right, your name is Furina, and the Mirror talking to you says you were invited to avert the inevitable doom. She says it in Her soft and compassionate voice, like it’s truly an invitation — but you know you’re meant to take the task. This is why you’re here, on this stage, and how did you get there — it doesn’t matter anymore.

Not long after that, the Mirror turns empty, and now there’s only your puzzled face in the reflection, not the perfect, precious, darling She you just saw. Then you feel it. A weird thing in your chest, chilly and uncomfortable. You don’t know what it is but since then it doesn’t leave you.

You live, you play your part, you learn. You actually like the colour blue, and desserts, and you have a beautiful singing voice, and this it, an unsettling feeling behind your ribcage, is called emptiness.

You accept it as a part of yourself. Just like the way you like the colour blue and the way you can’t die and the way eyebags under your lower lids, already heavy when you wake up on the stage, turns heavier and heavier and darker.

Then there’s a trial — a trial of our god, ladies and gentlemen! — and it means you failed. You look at your people and at first you see their suspicious, hostile gazes, but then you see them as puddles of water on the luxurious opera floor, and it doesn’t matter anymore how much they hate you. They can hate you all they want, just please let them stay alive.

Now you know what the Mirror meant when She said about a magnificent and dramatic trial. You were diligent in your duty, you made sure every proceeding ran in this nation was dramatic enough, you dragged the Witness of Teyvat in court, and then, when it didn’t helped, you did the same with the 11th of the Fatui.

Now you know it wasn’t enough. Now you know why. Now you know…

this is why you’re here, on this stage.

It all makes sense now, and for once in your 500 long years you realize with crystalline certainty what you’re needed to do.

It all makes sense now, so you play your part.

You play your part and you fail. No matter how good you argue, how quick you are to find answers, Witness of Teyvat, the damned Traveler, just overpowers you with the force of their charisma and people’s already existing resentment towards you. You fight, and then you ask, and then you plead, and then you beg them to believe you, and they don’t.

They just don’t believe you.

It seems you spent all your parlour-trick smokemirrors pseudo-magic, and none is left.

It would’ve been such a fitting end for a deceiver such as yourself, if not for the fact that your exposure doomed all those who you loved and cherished. All their precious, darling lives will be lost to the Primordial sea. Your knees give up, and you fall back on your fancy — stupid — chair. The Oratrice stirs alive, ready to deliver the death sentence. You don’t have enough willpower to care, not anymore. You sit and cry on your throne, just as it was foretold . Is this why you’re here?

Gears and cogs and pistons of the intricate system that is the Oratrice work faster and faster, and your vision is suddenly clouded with black, so thick you feel blind, but maybe you just blinked because it doesn’t last more than a fleeting second, and right after that…

Something snaps deep inside your chest, like a string broken.

It hurts so bad you think you’re dying, and at the same time — it doesn’t hurt at all. You feel nothing, and yet, you also feel pain you never felt before, and this lingering emptiness, your loyal friend and closest confidante, it swallows you whole.

You stop breathing, because breathing hurts. You stop moving, and it still hurts. Your head, your throat, your chest, but what hurts the most is a fleeting concept of your useless heart, weeping for a precious thing you never knew, because She, the dearest, the loveliest person you ever saw, was never there with you, not really.

She’s dead, you realise with utmost confidence you always lacked.

She’s dead, and her death reverberates through your whole body like a march, like a tsunami, like an agonising crescendo of rainstorm droplets falling down and washing away all that you held dear.

She’s dead, and you’re not.

Why, you ask yourself, because now you have nobody else to ask.

Hours later, when waters give up on destroying the land and everyone is not dissolved, you meet Neuvillette. There’s no resentment in his eyes, no hatred. Only sadness and exhaustion, and something soft and tender, akin to a pity, so you scowl at him, because you can take his hostility, but he has no rights pitying you.

He tells you a story.

This story’s plot sucks, and the twist is the cheapest tears-squeezing crap you saw only in soap operas.

The precious darling goddess in the Mirror was You this whole time, and it’s hard to wrap your head around it, you’re not sure you understand.

It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

Funny, you think.

I’m tired, you say. I need some rest, Monsieur Neuvillette.

You return to your suite to pack some of your belongings. You see the Mirror, the same one you ordered to drag all the way from the opera Epiclese to your personal rooms in the first day of your life, and there’s no You in the Mirror, only the same old you.

You’re suddenly reminded about the tiny snap deep in your chest, the mind-shattering non-existent pain. You cover the Mirror with your bedspread, and you leave the suite.

You cover all the mirrors in your new house first thing when you move in.

[buglaur]

gael's spooky day costume

[pink-lemonadefairy]

[reallyhardy]

i've got an all day first aid training course happening tomorrow... gonna get certified 💪 sure hope uh. it's not difficult lol if they test us on anything

[vogelmeister]

been feeling mixed on some of my friends recently

[dolokhoded]

i need to go to sleep right now but i've got zimon in the brain and i know i won't be able to sleep until i do something to get him out of the brain but i can't get up to draw right now and i sure as hell can't get up to write that would take me around 11 years so i'll just sit here and rotate him in my mind like a burnt chicken

[todayisafridaynight]

me and my sister went to the mall today and we ran into hot topic so fucking fast it was unbelievable. me and my sister are literal opposites when it comes to fashion. she picked pink, pastel shit like she was trying to be all uwu kawaii meanwhile im just standing here with my arms full of emo and goth shit, i legit felt like daigo and masato with all this emo drip i had walked out with. (p.s. they should put yakuza stuff in hot topic if they havent already because i have yet to have any yakuza related things in my room </3 also hot topic is like the only store i will shop at)

im so sorry to say these words to you but reading this reminded me of my immortal

[j33persworld]

universities love to make things as difficult as humanly possible for their students eh

[yellowshulker]

i think starting uni post-covid and living at home is the worst combination in the WORLD actually

[autobahnmp3]

it's this slow realisation that i was my grandma's favourite grandchild just bc i was a good student and a 'good little girl'

[cringengl]

It's 5:39am. Just had my first energy drink ever. I don't even drink coffee. Am I finishing this essay

[earl-grey-crow]

taking history for so long is funny because names start becoming familiar and it's like

[roaringroa]

bad day again

[periprose]

Jo I just turned in my writing final(it was due) and it was only half done so of course I was upset and I was texting my sis and she made me feel better about it but now I feel bad cause I kind of dissed her in my writing😭

NOo (I've done the same thing lol!!) Honestly submitting something is way better than submitting nothing at all :) plus I'm sure your teacher/prof will understand!

And the sister thing is okay too. Tbh I've done that and I think it's just part of having a sister, both emotions can exist 🥹 but don't worry I'm sure u didn't mean anything too bad for her 💕

[bestieriker]

you know when you like something like a tv show or movie and you aren’t really a creator so you go online to see what other people have created for it and maybe they can scratch your itch but you realize that they don’t like it the same way you do?

it’s happened to me so many times. i love people loving the things i love but i wish they loved it the way i do (not saying my way is better or theirs is worse- just different) so i could consume content that would scratch my itch.

this is about a lot of things. see tags if interested. maybe i’m just not looking in the right places!