#its probably worse over the fact judes mom kept going '...you know he loves you' after these outbursts

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what the actual fuck happens in xillia that judes dad is sweeping over the guy who immediately tried to have his teenage daughter executed for something he was fully aware she had no idea happened. jaw dropped at the ratio on that poll. what the hell did you do derrick

he didn't do anything outwardly evil but at the very least it was clear ingobert loved his daughter. however over the course of xillia its made increasingly clear jude does not want to go back home and the idea of going back home upsets him So Much. and when you get there you immediately find out its because his dad is a bitch. he yells at jude in every single scene theyre in together, he tells him its his fault milla's condition worsened because as a doctor he should know better, and is over all just a huge piece of shit to his 15yo son. every scene hes in made my blood boil

[solaciummeae]

Could You Imagine the Taste of Your Lips; If We’d Never Tried to Kiss | Part 13

MOOD MUSIC

Everyone had expected her to be inconsolable after the night of the blow out with Jude and Sam. They’d all figured she’d lock herself in her room and refuse to get out of bed. She could hear it in their thoughts and sense it in their emotions toward her– concern, apprehension, sympathy, and uncertainty.

Anyone who came near her oozed every one of these things and after the first forty-eight hours or so, she’d had enough. Something inside of her had just sort of snapped. Maybe it was the need to prove everyone wrong about her. Maybe it was her own need to feel better about herself. Or maybe, she just needed something to focus on to move past the idea that Jude was gone.

Admittedly, at times she was a little too eager– too motivated to be different than she’d been– to be better. It had started with putting herself on a regular schedule– which was sometimes more difficult than it seemed with the life she led. But every day, she got up– had her coffee, ate breakfast, ran two miles, trained with Dean, trained with Zoey, lunch, weight workout, research for a solid four or five hours, cleaning the house, dinner, shower, recording her progress in her journal, sleep. It was a routine that fell into place almost a little too well– so much so that those around her treated her with caution.

“Maybe you should take a break Emma. Maybe you should rest today. Maybe you just need a time out.”

These were all things that her family kept encouraging numerous times, in a variety of phrasings. Still, she pushed herself. She reminds herself that the nagging at the back of her mind in a particular blonde bitch’s voice didn’t help.

Yes, it had been a good four months since Myranda had left– never to return– but Emma still heard her words constantly. It kept her moving during the day, fighting to combat the negativity with her own productivity. Sometimes, she was so busy keeping up her schedule that she forgot to think about things like Jude and the future they’d lost. This was fine with her because it was exactly what she needed to do– what was healthy– to move on with her life and not look back on what could’ve been.

Adam still stopped by on occasion but she’d put less stock into him. He was a reminder that as far as she’d come from Jude, there was still a turning point where they wound up back together. If they’d didn’t, then Adam wouldn’t even exist. This was something she was even more determined to change regardless of what it meant for the boy she’d once loved with so much of her heart.

It had also become quite clear that he’d been spending a lot more time with Jude because he tried to give her updates every now and then. “Well, not that you care– but Dad’s still a mess, unlike you– Wonder Woman Mommy.” He’d tell her, right before he made to leave. He always left when the topic turned to Jude because he knew that Emma would tune him out anyway. But then, a certain wall had formed around her heart and she’d become intent of building it thicker and higher every day.

In a sense, she’d lost the sweetness that had been so much a part of her for so long. A touch of innocence that came with her condition has been forced out of her. She wasn’t a dreamer as she had been, she was a realist. She almost prided herself on it.

Another month had passed without so much a single visit from Adam. She’d just begun to think he’d vanished when he’d shown up looking almost panicked. She still remembers the argument vividly.

“Mom–” He’d been cut short.

“Don’t call me that– my name is Emma. I’m not your Mommy– not anymore.” She warns him coldly, putting on her boxing gloves. She’d just come back from her run and was aiming to get some work in with her punching bag when he’d shown up. She moved in on the bag and started taking jabs here and there, slowly at first and then more rapidly, alternating swings.

“You can’t just disown me because you decided you’re not in love with him anymore you know? Obviously, I’m still here so somewhere down the road–” He begins angrily.

“Don’t say it,” She orders, slamming her fist into the bag again with so much power the whole thing shakes on its stand.

“How can you do this? I get that Dad fucked up– but you’re sentencing me to death– or worse– non-existence.” He accuses, narrowing his eyes at her as he feels himself losing patience quickly. “How can you be so selfish?”

She’d half a mind to let her hand slip and give him a good knock to his jawbone. Something in her mind sparks though– a reminder that regardless of the fact the he’s an adult– he is her child. She hits the bag in rhythm a few more times before stopping to glare at him. “I’m selfish? Do you actually know what happened or are you pretending it didn’t– or maybe– you’re taking his side because you haven’t heard mine.”

“I’ve only heard your side from everyone else but you because you refuse to talk about it. That’s not strength Emma, that’s pushing it down until at some point its going to rear its ugly head and you’ll be sorry you didn’t.” He retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

She snorts. “I’ve talked about it plenty– and now I’m doing the healthiest thing I could possibly do– letting go, moving on, and becoming better from my mistakes.”

“Is that what he is to you?” Adam demands. “A mistake?”

“Yes!” Emma cries immediately. She stares him down without another word as if its already final with nothing left to say on the matter.

“Right. Well please forgive me for thinking there was still a heart buried somewhere inside that hard, sculpted exterior you’ve worked so much for.” He replies defiantly. “Guess I’ll just go spend the rest of whatever time I’ve got left with the parent who actually still cares that I had a life– a life I won’t get to go back to.” He pauses to huff a bitter laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure my fiance won’t miss me– my brothers and sisters– well they won’t exist either so no need to worry about disappointing them. Probably won’t even feel it happen–” He shrugs, keeping a steady eye on her. “But you know what Mom, its all good because this way– you’ve successfully saved Dad from going to hell– because there won’t be anyone to sacrifice his immortal soul for.” He finishes, before storming off and leaving her to process his words.

She shakes her head now to free herself of the images and words that rush through her mind. Its just too much, she can’t do it. She can’t just forgive him for what he’d done. She’s come too far to go right back to where she’d been. She can’t be that person anymore.

Nevertheless, in the process of ridding herself of the bad– she’s also ridding the world of an unknown number of children– of lives. Adam always talked about his siblings as though he had many of them and she can’t help but think of all the people she’s hurting by seemingly abandoning them.

“Hey– space cadet– you’re late for training– what’s up?” Dean calls playfully, leaning into her room.

She blinks a few times, her eyes watering as she begins to think on just how much had changed. She and Dean hadn’t gotten closer– scary close. He’d taught her how to fight, how to defend herself, weapons maintenance, all of the little tricks of the trade that she hadn’t paid attention to so much when she’d first come here almost five years ago now. In a way, Dean had made her the most lethal.

Sam had helped her with research, logistics of cases, navigating the ins and outs of hunts without getting caught by authorities. Zoey had been probably the most crucial piece to Emma’s success. She’d worked with her day in and day out to block out the voices in her head, to find her focus, to use the gifts that came with her curse to her advantage.

She’d become a force to be reckoned with and still, when memories like the one she’d been thinking of crept in– she became vulnerable all over again. She looks up at Dean as if she doesn’t even know how to respond, so her mouth sort of just hangs open.

He moves over to her, always worried that she’s going to push herself to hard and wind up in the hospital. Selfish as it was, he’d grown so used to spending large quantities of time with her every day. If she had to go away for any amount of time, he almost wouldn’t know what to do with himself– what to do without her.

She was such an enigma to him and hadn’t been anything like he’d thought when they met all those years ago. He finds his thoughts moving quickly over all of this as he brings his hands to cradle her face. “What is it? What happened?” He asks softly, his eyebrows pulling together in deep concentration.

She shakes her head even in his hold, pushing out a disbelieving laugh as she can’t help not staying out of his head. As the smile lingers on her face, her eyes shy away.

‘I wish you knew– how much I love you.’ He doesn’t even know she’s listening or else he’d probably not let himself think it so freely. How she’d become so much more in his life than he could have ever dreamed. He just assumes she’s laughing at his concern for her, but the quiet smile across her lips– its enough to soften his insides.

She blinks slowly, her eyes coming back up to battle the light green of his own. “I do…” She replies to him– well his thoughts at least.

“Come again?” He blurts out in confusion.

“I do know…” She repeats slowly, a sense of calm coming from the strength that radiates from the man before her.

At first his mind becomes a mess of confusion over what she means. Her answers didn’t make any sense in relation to the questions he’d asked. Then suddenly it dawns on him that she wasn’t replying to his vocal words, but those in his mind.

He scoffs, dropping his hands and rubbing them on his jeans as if embarrassed. “Well uh–…” His eyes now dodge her own for fear that he’ll get too lost to speak. ‘Too late.’

Another small knowing smirk returns to her face as she too realizes she’d been mistaken. Maybe it hadn’t been the kind of love she’d thought he meant. Maybe over the past few months, she hadn’t been imagining things when he stole glances and became awkward in her presence. “Oh…” She says softly.

She reaches up to touch his face, bringing him back to face her. If this had been the Emma before, she’d never have enough confidence to be so bold– but this was Emma now. She looks on him as if he reminds her of coming home at the end of the longest day she just needed solace from.

“Are you in love with me Dean Winchester?” She questions gently, her thumb moving over the hollow of his cheek. There’s no hint of teasing in her voice, nor any sign of ego. She’s simply asking for confirmation of what she already suspects. Even if it is a little hard to believe– she can’t help but wonder if maybe love hasn’t given up on her yet.

He wasn’t always the greatest with his words. When he was nervous– something Emma had a talent for making him to be– he tended to get mixed up. Even with the delicate touch of her hand on his face, he casts his eyes down with a telltale smirk of his own.

His eyes dart up just long enough to lock in on his target before he presses his lips firmly to hers. His hands find their way to her hips, pulling her closer to him. He wonders if she’ll push him away– if this is too soon and he’s pushing her too far– but she doesn’t.

Emma relaxes into his hold, listening to the humming in his mind– an old classic rock song. Most women might be offended at knowing what was going on in his mind. However, Emma knows Dean better than most women. This was something he did to cope when riddled with anxiety. Her own lips move slowly in time with his, her other hand rising to meet the other around the nape of his neck. She can’t explain the deep sense of hope that rises within her– or the love she often hid from even the people she felt it toward these days. She lingers in his hold for perhaps the easiest and most healing kiss she can ever remember receiving. As she pulls away smoothly, her lips bounce on his a few more times. She opens her eyes to look up at him again and gauge all that this means.

Dean wears the most lopsided grin on his face, even with his eyes still closed. When he finally looks at her again, he can’t help but want to reconnect his lips to hers– but he doesn’t. “Maybe we can just skip training today– wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” He suggests, eliciting a frown across her features.

“But I’m already dressed for it.” She challenges.

His eyes flash down to the active wear shorts and sports bra he’d long since become desensitized to. Somehow, it triggers his mind to go off in a way he’d forced it not to all those times before. “As much as that little outfit of yours really shows off all of your–” He falters at receiving a quirk of her left eyebrow. “Assets.” He finishes, swallowing. “Maybe you could put on something a little softer on the eye and we could– I dunno–….”

Her right eyebrow arches with the other and she looks at him expectantly. “I’m not following…” She lies, even though his mind his practically screaming at her.

‘A date– a DATE, damn it– why does she have to be so–’

“So what?” She inquires, pushing him further.

“Well damn it all to hell Emma– if you’re just gonna read my mind there’s no use in me runnin’ my mouth.” He complains, scowling at her as if offended. It was still something he was getting used to. She’d gotten so good at controlling her abilities– abilities that up until now, he hadn’t been sure she ever used on him.

‘So perfect–’ He begins in his head before continuing out loud. “And still the biggest pain in my ass.” He tells her gruffly.

She laughs at his frustration with her, but it isn’t hurtful. She hasn’t really laughed like this in a long time, nor let her guard down this way in what seemed like forever.

She can’t fathom a way that Dean could ever let her down. The Winchester men were good that way. While Sam was her best friend, someone who loved her as the little sister he’d never had– Dean was different. It isn’t until now that she accepts just how different it was. “At least you don’t hate me anymore? Right?” She shrugs.

“I never hated you.” He blows it off as if she’s just making things up now.

“Oh yeah? I think once upon a time you were sure I was going to get you all killed and probably burn this whole place to the ground in a fit of crazy.” She snorts with amusement. For some reason, his demeanor becomes more serious than it had been before.

Dean tightens his grip at her sides. “Don’t– don’t call yourself that.”

At first, she’s not even sure what she said, but then it occurs to her. He doesn’t like that she implied that she’s “crazy.” Her eyes fall to the grey fabric of his shirt. She’s about to ask why– to tell him that its true– but as if he’s telepathic himself he shakes his head. His fingers come to her chin, pulling her to look him in the eyes again.

“Because I don’t like it– and its not true.” He finishes with more certainty in himself this time.

The emotions behind this exchange start to flow through her almost intoxicating her entire being. The smile returns to her own face and she nods to him slowly in acceptance.

“So how about that date?” She offers, causing his lips to rush toward and overtake hers once more.