#learning the truth

[tubbsmccracken]

Joseph Douglass, Director of the Department of Music at Howard University and his Grandfather Frederick Douglass.

[ladylucksrogue]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rex's resistance group manages to rescue Fox in the aftermath of the fated Jedi Temple incident.

[numerousbees1106]

I Wanna See Why The Birds Are Silent At Night

Angstpril Day 13 - Learning The Truth

Read on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/55184803

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I Wanna See Why The Birds Are Silent At Night

It haunted him, the knowledge he held, the shared, collective, horrid truth that infiltrated his mind and the minds of his brothers. It circled him as worked and as he breathed, hovering just out of reach but still far too close. It stalked around him as he ate, as he talked, as he breathed, digging claws deep into his chest where he had long ago shoved all the broken things inside him, down until they were safely hidden out of sight, out of mind, a graveyard living in his soul. It drew close as he slept or lay awake at night, baring its teeth. Sometimes Kix could swear he saw his own reflection in its eyes, the night-gleam of an animal flashing and in the darkness Kix could make out his own face.

It haunted him, the knowledge. It haunted him to know the fate of all the Jedi who had been on Coruscant during the purge. If they were lucky, they had been killed, as horrid as that was to say. If they were unlucky…

Kix had heard the stories, had seen the broken corpses and the far-off look in their ex-commander’s eyes. He knew that the Inquisitors rarely Fell on purpose, knew that they were broken down and tortured until they snapped, like a bone finally cracking under a ceaseless, building pressure, that same cracking that happened to his brothers caught under tanks or rubble, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and stuck there until death.

Or, alternatively until their General found them and dug them out, pulling away metric tons of rock and steel to save lives considered expendable to anyone but him. His resolute kindness and courage had always been their saving grace in the face of certain death, of unavoidable disaster and unrecoverable tragedy. It pained him to think of that kindness being snuffed out, either through death or through a fate much worse, and so he hoped, despite the hopelessness of the situation, he hoped that somehow, some way, his fears were unfounded.

His hopes crumbled to dust with three short words.

“Kix,” Rex breathed, his voice taught and fraught with tension. “They found him. The General, they found him.”

Kix froze, pausing his current task to consider. It hardly seemed real, after having been searching and hoping and dreading for so long.

“And?” He said cautiously, his soul fraught with tension as his desperate hope warred with his logical side, and he finally turned around to face Rex head-on. “What’s his status?”

Rex’s face was pinched, his brown eyes bright with distress. Kix’s heart sank.

“He was on Coruscant when the Purge happened, Kix,” he murmured, and that was all he needed to say for Kix to get the memo.

After all, it was a well-known fact what happened to the Jedi on Coruscant. If they weren’t killed…

How? He wanted to ask, how could our sweet and caring General possibly become like them?

Except, Kix already knew the answer to that - he had seen the tortured bodies of the Inquisitors, their mutilated corpses and haggard forms a sure sign that they hadn’t Fallen easily.

General Kenobi had once said that someone can be tortured into Falling, and more recently Tano had confirmed that was what was happening to the Inquisitors.

Kix wondered whether that was happening - or more likely had already happened - to their General, whether he was in agony as he wilted under the Empire’s cruel claws. When had it happened? How had it happened? Had he been scared, in those final moments? Had he wished for them, had he been wishing for them?

“There’s more,” Rex murmured quietly.

Kix closed his eyes as a wave of grief crashed over him, raising his hand up to Rex, silently asking for a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Okay,” he sighed, pushing down the anticipatory despair he felt. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Rex licked his lips, glancing around the empty room quickly before pulling Kix in even closer.

“He’s Vader,” the other clone whispered, his voice hollowed out with a thousand emotions Kix couldn’t even begin to decipher.

“What?” Kix choked out, a jolt of horrid horror piercing through him like a blaster wound.

“Vader,” Rex hissed.

Vader. Vader, with the four mechanical limbs, with the awful respirator mask, with the life-support suit? Vader, the so-called ‘mechanical monstrosity’?

What had the Emperor done to him?

He and Rex held each other for a long time, offering silent comfort to each other, both feeling the sharp sting of grief. Even if they could somehow, some way save their General, what would be left? If his body was in such a poor condition - a body that, Kix mused, was probably even more fucked up than anyone knew about - what condition would his mind be in? His General wouldn’t have Fallen easily, he knew that. Would he even recognize them?

The truth was a bitter poison, Kix thought. The truth was a toxin that was hard to swallow and harder to digest. It would have hurt even if there was some way to change the past, to fix what had happened.

But there wasn’t.

And they would just have to learn to live with it.

[astaldis]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

@whumpers-monthly​  @whumpril​

Chapters: 3/?     Words: 7,820 Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Geralt of Rivia, Vesemir (The Witcher), Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Coën (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion 

Relationships:Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Cahir Mawr Dryffyn aep Ceallach & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Cahir, Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Yennefer of Vengerberg, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Vesemir, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy & Vesemir, Jaskier & Yennefer of Vengerberg, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt of Rivia

Summary: At Kaer Morhen, Cahir tells Ciri something that makes her scream ...

Excerpt from Chapter 3: 

"Fuck," Geralt says after a moment of silence.

"Fuckety fuck, that is bad indeed," Jaskier adds with a deep sigh. "Come here, darling, let me dry those tears." He fishes a frilly, pink handkerchief from his vest pocket and, hugging her even closer, gently dabs at Ciri's eyes. Yet, now the tears begin to flow for real and Ciri starts to sob uncontrollably in Jaskier's arms. Tears of grief for her dead grandfather and grandmother, for the loss of her childhood, her home, for all the death and destruction and pain that followed, but also for the evil things she has done and is ashamed of. And for Cahir who might be dying because of her.

"Here, my daughter, drink this. It will make you feel better." Geralt holds a mug in front of her tear-streaked face when the sobs finally cease. Surprised, she looks up into his concerned face. In her grief she did not even notice that he had left the room.

Ciri takes a sip. Warm milk with honey. It does make her feel better. And very sleepy. As soon as the mug is empty, Geralt and Jaskier tuck her in. Then Jaskier starts to sing a lullaby for her. It is not the one she expected but one she has never heard before. A fairytale song about a little tin soldier with only one leg and his tiny ballerina, and their eternal love. It is beautiful and sad and exactly what she needs to finally fall asleep, secure in the knowledge that her family is always there for her. Never lost, always found, like in the fairytale.

[fanfictasia]

Angstpril Day 13

Learning The Truth

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Children of the Desert

Anakin’s mind jumps back to the last of what he remembers on Geonosis. There were people there, and he couldn’t make sense of their presences. “Those soldiers,” he inquires, “Who were they?”

“They’re clones,” Obi-Wan explains, “Of the bounty hunter who attempted to assassinate the Senator. Allegedly, a Jedi commissioned the creation of a clone army ten years ago, though the Council confirmed that was untrue.”

“Ten years ago?” Anakin asks. “They didn’t look like they were ten?”

“The Kaminoans altered their genes to double their aging, evidently.”

That’s – that’s awful. Life is short enough already, and for that to be shortened even farther? “This sounds like a report I should read.”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan tells him dryly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Anakin.

He skims the report, mostly, at least. Just the important details – there’s always many unnecessary details in reports.

The one, main thing that catches Anakin’s attention is the mentions of the clone’s presences. The idea intrigued him from the start, but – but he has many, many questions about it. There’s a lot of things he doesn’t understand still.

It takes a while and a Senate trip for Anakin to realize exactly who and more importantly, what the clones are.

The Senate purchased them from the Kaminoans. They weren’t recruited. They may have been raised to be soldiers, but that almost makes it worse. At least they don’t know any other life, so they can’t miss it, but at the end of the day, they’re – they’re slaves.

Just like Anakin once was.

The Republic was complicit in this. They agreed to do it, and for the first time in his life, Anakin finds himself doubting. Doubting everything.

He believes in the Republic, because he knows anything, no matter how broken it is, can be repaired. But that doesn’t change how they have a slave army now. And to fix this? That’s where he needs to start.

By freeing the clones, who deserve so much more than anyone will ever be willing or able to do for them.Maybe it’ll take years, but this is no different than the many slaves Anakin has tried to free over the years as his time as a Jedi. He’s not going to stop until it’s done.

[descendinginto-madness]

it's much too late to talk about this.

word count: 1066

content warnings: mentions of sh behavior

summary: emile is doing a bit better, but it's still not great.

author's notes: uhh. like a. sequel to day 7 (?) prompt :3 i might put them together, add some things and edit and post it as one fic but it'll take a while LOL agaain kinda. not directly the prompt topic unfortunately HSHDH

A while passes before Emile starts to calm down, and it’s a while too long for their liking.

Everything else they feel - the fear, the helplessness - seems to be leaving their body along with their tears, but the embarrassment is still there; they feel so stupid, because it is a stupid situation, crying in the kitchen in the middle of the night, clinging onto Mr. Yang like their life depended on it, and sobbing into his shoulder. At the very least, he doesn’t seem to mind - his arms are gently wrapped around them, one of his hands rubbing their back in a soothing motion - but it doesn’t make them feel much better. It is comforting, but they don’t like the fact they apparently need this comfort, that something in their heart is desperate for the warmth it provides. They shouldn’t need it, they’re not a little kid anymore, after all. 

It’s a little frustrating that they always seem to cling to people, to whoever shows them even a little bit of kindness. First to Mieszko, and now to the Astral Express’s crew.

…But maybe it’s good that Mr. Yang is there, and that he just lets them hug him. If he didn’t, they would be gripping their own arms or hair, their nails digging into their skin, in an attempt to relieve some of the pent up anger they feel towards themself and because of their overly emotional reactions to everything.

Maybe, ultimately, it will turn out to have been for the best that they stumbled across him tonight.

Maybe. For now, it’s still too early for them to decide.

What is for certain, though, is that his presence helps. They feel like it takes way too much time, but their sobs finally do quiet down, and their tears do dry, and then it’s a matter of seconds before they pull away from the hug. Mr. Yang isn’t rushing them to do so, and a part of them would like to stay like that for a bit longer, but they also feel like it’s a pretty childish want. They’re already embarrassed enough, even without that. Though… To be fair, even that embarrassment seems to have dulled a little; right now, they mostly feel empty.

And tired.

Which is also probably how Mr. Yang feels. He definitely wasn’t planning… That, after all. Having to offer them comfort out of nowhere, and seemingly for no reason at all, and—

“...Sorry,” they say, partially to silence their mind before their thoughts spiral out of control again. The man lets out a quiet sigh, but when they look at him, they notice that he doesn't look angry - only worried. Still.

“It’s alright,” he replies. It’s quiet again for a moment after that, and for them the air feels so incredibly tense that it’s almost overwhelming. They’re afraid they will have to be the one to break the silence again, but then, thankfully, Mr. Yang speaks again.

“Is there… Anything you would like to talk about?”

Is there?

The question isn’t in any way pressuring; his voice is gentle, and they know they won’t upset him even if they say no - if there’s one thing they can be sure about when it comes to Mr. Yang, it’s that he will never pry - but Emile is suddenly scared to refuse anyway. The anxiety sparks up again, and they cross their arms on their chest, digging their fingers into their body slightly. Not strong enough to cause themself actual pain just yet, but enough to have something to distract them.

“...I don’t know,” they admit. They lean against the counter and look down, at the kitchen tiles, cold under their bare feet.  “I just—” they pause and then sigh, shaking their head. They don’t even know where they’re going with this, and besides, it’s so late - it would probably be better if both of them just went back to their rooms.

“If it’s the late hour you’re worried about, then there’s no need.” Mr. Yang seems to read their mind with that sentence. 

“No, no, it’s not that.” That's… Not entirely true, but even though they are somewhat worried about the time, it's the least one of their problems at the moment. “I guess… I don’t really want to talk right now. Maybe later. I don’t know when”

They sound almost apologetic, but Mr. Yang nods. 

“I understand,” he says. “Please feel free to let me know whenever you ‘ll feel ready to talk, then.”

“Alright,” they reply. It almost feels like some weight has been lifted from their shoulders. Yeah. They might tell him about that nightmare  they’ve been having later, but not tonight – among other things, they were afraid that if they did start talking about this, they would just cry.

It makes them feel stupid. 

“Do you want me to stay with you for a bit longer?” he asks, but they shake their head again.

“No, I'll- I’ll be fine. But thanks,” they say, and even try to smile. It's not a very bright smile, and a very tired one, but Mr. Yang smiles back regardless.

“You're welcome.”

There's still a hint of worry in his eyes and voice, like ultimately he wasn't entirely sure about leaving them alone; they can't really blame him for that, but it makes them feel bad. They shouldn't be giving him more reasons to worry, really - they clearly already did. 

“I… think I'll be going back to sleep soon,” they add to reassure him further. He thinks for a moment, then nods.

“Alright. Then… Again, I'll be in my room. Let me know if you need anything,” he replies. “Sleep well when you do.” He still looks a little hesitant, but ultimately heads towards the door.

“Goodnight,” they say before he leaves the kitchen.

They go back to their room shortly after, too; they could've stayed in the kitchen, yes, or go somewhere else, but they head straight to bed, trying to ignore the more intrusive thoughts circling in their mind. At the very least, though— The room doesn't seem to want to crush them anymore, and they can't deny the fact they feel much calmer now; even though they didn't actually tell Mr. Yang anything, just the fact he stayed with them makes them feel better. 

When they fall asleep again, they don't have any  bad dreams for the rest of the night. 

divider by @/cafekitsune

[bobbie-robron]

Robert Sugden: Christopher Smith (2001) - the end