#midtime

Classical: If you were an Olympian god, what would you be known for? idk probably goddess of beauty or something and feauting in some kind of tragic myth :’)

i love these and would like to see them

this/you/it suck(s), garlic dead, fangs being used as thanks (fangs for asking? fangs for listening?), (a lack of) reflection, vicks stops the coffin

midtime replied to your post “hey, bombard me with vampire puns, I need to come up with a title for...”

coffin up blood

I was right, I do regret asking for terrible puns XD

it’s absolutely a gradual thing - she finds the first few hints, pieces the information together, comes to terms with things slowly. a sudden revelation would just shock her into denial. she takes the time she needs to process and actually understand before she comes to the decision herself

if overwatch is reformed by then and if vishkar’s shadiness is getting to Dangerous levels, she probably contacts them, calmly sends them files and data with all her carefully compiled proof. she’s calm. she’s even. she’s aware, dimly, that she’s detached (clinical definitions of disassociation and derealization and depersonalization playing through her head on loop as she tears the structure of her life apart with hands that do not even shake), but she welcomes the calm.

she tenders her resignation through a carefully-worded polite email and leaves. likely goes to overwatch, or just finds some little apartment with her funds while she works out what to do next

it’s when she gets the reply - from sanjay directly, letting her know with clipped politeness that she won’t be missed, that she is not welcome back, that she has proven herself to have never been worthy, to have always been broken, that she was only ever there because of pity anyways - that she finally cries. the anxiety attack lasts hours, and it’s awful, and she hates herself and blames herself and blames them and blames everyone and she types up a million half-replies (begging for forgiveness, calling Sanjay a bastard, asking how she could have been better, telling them to fuck off, asking why) that she deletes and retypes and deletes again

and then it passes, finally, slowly, and she gets up, and she makes herself tea

her head feels clearer than it has in years, and while it still hurts, and while maybe it will always hurt, she thinks maybe she can face it now.