emotional shitshow


you think people can’t tell

more watery aesthetics I guess

its tea

second ones transparent

ok so for a character who’s not “on the front lines” of the action during most of this MSQ Aymeric has been through some shit

off the top of my head I can think of
- “questioned thoroughly” aka definitely tortured
- stabbed in the street/assasination attempt
- may or may not have solo battled Vedrfolnir (while the WoL got 3 people to assist with Hraes’ trial, smh)
- probably gets beat up by some more dragons while WoL fights Nidhogg
- probably stabbed again by Estinien’s armor while carrying him (okay that’s kind of a joke but also not)

plus this whole mental/emotional shitshow
- when he learns that his whole life has essentially been a lie and confronts his father about it his father basically says “lol deal with it” and throws him in jail to be tortured/declared a heretic and enemy of the state
- he was also right there when Haurchefant was killed (I actually kind of forgot this until the other night)
- works really hard on Giving Peace A Chance and inspires an entire counter movement of domestic terrorists? really pissed off people who hate his guts and are not shy about it (see: stabbed in the street)
- one of whom literally throws a child off a building as a sign of protest WHAT THE FUCK
- has to deal with the fact that his bff has become Evil Incarnate
- has to deal with the fact that his other bff probably has to kill said bff
- brings down The System and is relieved to quit his job, is immediately re-hired for a possibly even more demanding job
- decides to take personal responsibility for the fact that Ishgard has been an isolationist middle finger to the rest of the continent
- just….really wants to drink wine and go adventuring but can’t because reasons

so my point being: if it’s any comfort, we’re definitely not alone on the HW pain train

also that i love him and i swear to god SE if you lay a hand on him in 4.0

“These visions don’t come from God,” Dean says. “Whatever’s kicking around in your head is a side effect from the infection. That’s all." 

Sam’s not so sure, says as much to Dean, but the comment doesn’t bother him all that much at first. That’s just what Dean’s like: deny deny deny deny until the problem’s so enormous and immediate that you HAVE to handle it (until someone’s left bleeding on the floor). Sam junked that strategy years ago, after he ignored those dreams and his life burned helpless on the ceiling. 

So yeah, to start with he just lets it go, doesn’t think twice about Dean’s remark. But later, once they’re back home and more or less patched up, when he’s lying in his bed in the womb of the Bunker and worrying (because honestly, the place makes him anxious now), he figures out why the conversation’s been niggling so much. It’s reminiscent of all those times, after the Trials, when Sam felt worn out and stretched thin; when his coordination went or when he found himself knocked out, for the hundredth time, blanking out on long stretches of the day. Dean had said something oh-so-similar then: ‘it’s nothing, Sammy, don’t worry. It’s the Trials. You were pretty messed up’. 

Sam’s stomach has never been good, and the thought is enough to have him retching, grateful for the distance between his bedroom and Dean’s. 

He doesn’t say anything to his brother. Things are just starting to become OK again and the last thing he needs is to dredge up the emotions that the Gadreel shitshow provoked. But the idea of it buzzes disturbing at the back of his mind, and he finds himself slipping into the anxious rituals that marked his behaviour for months after he kicked out Gadreel. He pinches himself until he bruises and checks to make sure it’s not healed: angels fix things indiscriminately, so it’s a useful tell. He collects banishing spells and sigils, whispers them or scrawls them on paper and stuffs them into his pockets and boots. Most of all, he’s obsessive about checking the time. He glances at his watch so much that Dean notices, makes a snarky comment about having somewhere better to be. Sam ignores him. He doesn’t have a choice about this. Sam has to be sure that he isn’t missing anything: that he’s living every minute, himself. After all, not long ago he was on his knees, and Dean swung that scythe and who really knows what happened next?