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reconstructwriter · 6 months

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Star Wars Fix-it: The Holonet Edition

The well-bribed algorithms of the Holonet should have relegated Tookruta1387’s clip to the tender hearts of a few friends. The days of spontaneous viral posts – without credits to grease the wheels – died not long after the rise of megacorps in the Republic. But the poster was either lucky or savvy enough to play the algorithms because “Jedi Being Cold” exploded. Screens, conversation, even news. And their post was just the start of a trend…

“Jedi Being Cold”: An old transport ship, frost coating the inside of its windows. A corner swathed in a nest of robes. Within three padawans snuggle together, fast asleep. If they were cats they’d be purring. One is purring despite a lack of feline attributes. A hand nudges them with a datastick, only for it to float away to a cloud of similar items.

“Jedi Being Cold” part 2: A snow-covered lake. One knight finishes sculpting a realistic snow tiger. Two others Force push each other like hocky pucks across the ice. One goes flying towards the statue. An expression of ‘oh crap’. Incredible, Force- assisted acrobatics deftly avoids the sculpture but crashes right into the sculptor in a tangle of limbs, sending them skidding into a snow-bank. The third Jedi pokes their head into the many-limbed hole and gets snowballed for the trouble.

“Jedi Stealing Children”: A child at a slave auction. A robed figure swoops in like a hawk, slicing through chains with their lightsaber and ripping apart cages with the Force. The camera pans to one slaver Force shoved into a cage, clearly furious as the Jedi escapes with a whole crowd of people, many children.

“Jedi Stealing Children” becomes the title for 1287 pictures, clips and gifs before someone adjusts the algorithm. This makes them surprisingly hot commodities on the Dark Holo, especially the one with a Nautolan Master dramatically fleeing the capture attempts of a horde of children – ending in one dramatic arm reaching out as kids bury him

“Jedi As Warmongers”: A young Padawan, blood splattered, has a ‘does it get better’ look on their trembling face as they stare up at their Master. The Master is even grimier and gorier as they gather their Padawan up with an ‘I’m sorry but no’. The Padawan weeps and shakes, burying their face in their Master’s robes, who has silent tears down their face. In the background is a war zone.

“Jedi as Warmongers: part 2” Has war holomovie music playing in the background as the snap-thumm of a lightsaber echoes, vivid blue piercing the dark. The blade raises over something, is brought down…over a block of cheese and loaf of bread. The Jedi padawan gleefully declares: “Grilled Cheese for all!” The sound of sprinting footsteps is heard and a dramatic “Noooo,” from a Jedi Knight.

“Jedi as Warmongers: part 3”: The music has switched to aftermath of war horror, the kitchen looks like a cheese atomic bomb hit. The children are cleaning up and one wipes cheese with bread and pops it in their mouth: “grilled cheese for all!” An adult admonishes “You spit that out right now that’s not sanitary.” In the background the Jedi Knight is doing the same thing.

“Jedi Showing Off” Is Yoda’s contribution to this mess – which is just him going through an entire stack of photo-albums on his previous padawans. He opens the last book to Dooku the Padawan when Dooku the Master barges in: “Stop this indignity immediately!” The camera shows an intense close-up of someone’s palm. “Who even taught you how to operate holo-video? –” feed cuts off.

“Jedi Dignity”: Feed resumes from a different perspective as Master Dooku – previous camera still in hand – gives Yoda and several other watching Jedi a lecture on appropriate Holonet-posting behavior. “Not appropriate baby photos are?” Yoda asks, a card-shark’s spread of pictures with Dooku’s baby face. Dooku yanks them out of Yoda’s hands. “Not without m-the person’s permission!” Does a double-take. “Are you filming –?” Horrified glower. “Mace you traitor!” Video abruptly cuts off. Permanently this time.

Not even algorithm adjustments – and there are clearly several – can stop that from becoming viral. “Mace you traitor!” becomes slang for the latest generation. Mace himself rolls with it. Dooku attempts to entomb himself in the archives until this all blows over.

Actions may speak louder than words but memes speak loudest of all.

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letitrainathousandflames · 6 months

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AU where whatever the fuck was that thing Nala Se injected Fives with on the way to coruscant makes him have a panic attack instead of getting aggressive so rather than get off the ship to talk to palpatine and be goaded into attacking him, Fives just backs himself to a corner and refuses to leave.

He only allows Kix to get any closer and Kix takes 0.3 seconds to notice that holy kriff, his vod's eyes are blown wider than those of a person hopped on deathsticks, no way we can clear him out until he either processes or is purged of whatever the hell is fucking him up like that and wait a minute what is that empty hypo vial doing there? And it takes him like 0.1 second to connect the dots and say yeah, that kaminoan isn't allowed anywhere near my trooper until we clear out wtf is happening.

Palpatine is getting confused as to why his chosen scapegoat is taking so long to come up to his office and gets a very apologetic call from Rex saying that they won't be able to bring him over to say The Very Important Thing he'd been meaning to say, but don't worry sir, we're bringing him to the medbay back at base but don't worry, generals Skywalker and Kenobi will oversee everything until Fives is back on his feet and ready to talk.

Palpatine frantically hangs up on him and calls up Nala Se demanding an explanation as to why Fives isn't drugged into Anger 2 and ready to punch him and make himself a target and erase any doubts cast upon him.

The thing is, Nala Se can't pick up due to Rex holding her at blaster point and asking, in the sweetest faux-polite tone "why the kriff does the Chancellor of the Republic seems to have you, a random cloning scientist, on speed dial? And why is he calling you exactly right now? :)"

#if you wanna know more about anger 2 look up mbmbam anger 2 lmao #lu's silly headcanons #fix-it au #i ran out of creative juice there but feel free to continue

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fandom-friday · 3 months

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I’ve recced this once and I will rec it forever and ever. Crèche to Command by Boredom on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44260162/chapters/111303760

It’s about Ahsoka starting a video series with the clone troopers explaining different aspects of command in the GAR. It picks up more and more attention from both everyone in the republic but also in the seperatist systems. Ahsoka starts making it a point to use the series to protect the clones and the clones start using it to protect the Jedi.

Basically all the chapters are long and I squeal every time it updates 100/10 recommend

WE LOVE FOREVER RECS ROUND THESE PARTS! It's always lovely to hear about a fic that just sticks with someone and is there go-to in any situation.

This is such a cool concept, and also something that I can absolutely see Ahsoka doing. We see a lot of Rex and the boys being protective older brothers, but I love the idea of Ahsoka being the younger sibling determined to do something helpful to protect her brothers. I also love the addition of the chat logs! That is such a neat idea!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #ahsoka tano #captain rex #501st legion #sibling dynamics #fluff #angst #fix-it au #hurt/comfort

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phoenixtakaramono · 10 months

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Sending another ask, because of lack of space: I loved the idea of the Fix-it because billy in it is pretty much steering HL away from his worst impulses, not because HL is automatically a better person when he's in love, but because their association has taught him how to think for himself, how to be more subtle, to not trust Vought uncritically and to gather information when possible before making a decision, and to think through how to present it to the public, instead of depending on PR only

Re: Fix-It AU Threadfic (🔗)

Initially I started this threadfic because I saw a tweet of someone saying how there were no Fix-Its in the 200+ Butchlander fics on AO3 (sorry, my mistake 🙏, someone has reminded me that there is at least one):

At the end of the day, I’m glad I was operating under an erroneous assumption because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have bothered writing this.

The way I’d envisioned it: we start with that Diabolical episode where Homelander had just had his hero debut (~18 y/o), and that’s our future husbands’ first official Meet Cute (/j). Billy, at this juncture, is a young CIA operative (~23 y/o) but he has not met Becca yet. It’s essentially a honeypot/ honeytrap operation—but without the seduction at least not from Billy’s POV; the readers voted for the yandere speedrun option with Homelander planting cameras in Billy’s flat at the Flatiron, haha, so obviously certain things will follow because of that chosen route. It also allows us an opportunity to play with HL’s past as a lab-rat (I’m playing with the possibilities), and have that affect the threadfic.

We then tie in the more important The Boys canon comic events and events from the TV version—and “fix” a couple of the more pivotal disastrous f*ck-ups such as the Cruz Chemical incident (animated show canon) and the crash of Transoceanic Flight 37 (TV canon), etc, with a couple original incidents if I’m feeling up to it.

I love what you wrote about how HL’s not automatically made a better person just because he’s in love. Billy can steer him from his worst impulses to an extent. But at the end of the day, the idea is that whilst it is a Fix-It, and we are rewarding him with Billy as a boyfriend for his “good behavior” (later, so he gets his crush fulfilled), John as The Homelander is still not a very good man. I very much enjoy reading about a psycho narcissistic HL who has an obsessive crush, and I think a lot of people like reading that too. We have Billy as the hot older European young and bright CIA operative whomst HL wishes desperately to impress (gotta give it to a guy who’s infatuated). He one-sidedly envisions William Butcher as his partner-in-crime. William, in the threadfic, represents the CIA, a secret government intelligence agency that has the legitimacy Vought desperately wants—and so far only Homelander’s been given this opportunity. It’s a resource that only he has access to—and it makes him feel ✨special✨ —> William is special —> thus, William can only be his. Homelander doesn’t like to share (in this AU).

The silver lining is this HL, while still objectively awful, haha, is encouraged at his younger age to not be so reliant on Vought—and that impact will carry into his 20s, 30s, and 40s. We are essentially weaning our brainwashed murderous baby from sucking the teat of corporate.

#butchlander #the boys #the boys tv #billy butcher x homelander #homelander #billy butcher #Fix-It AU #ask #tocadoguara #ty for the ask! one more to go

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wild-karrde · 7 months

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#FandomFriday “Rain Shadow” by @niobiumao3 might be a repeat submission from me. I can’t remember, but it’s a perfect fix-it fic for #techlives. I really enjoy how the author does Phee’s perspective in third person voice. Really excellent work. Ao3 link below.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48921994?show_comments=true#comments

REPEAT SUBMISSIONS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME AND EVEN ENCOURAGED (so no worries at all haha). And they are ESPECIALLY welcome if they're part of the Tech Lives AU. WE LOVE FIX-IT FICS ROUND THESE PARTS (especially with Phee and Tech, because I did not anticipate to love that ship as much as I dooooooo). Thank you so much for the submission!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tech #phee genoa #tech x phee #fix-it au #alternate universe #developing relationship #wrecker #echo

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trixree · 9 months

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At first, attempting to dredge up anything from his life before “the Accident” feels like staring headfirst into a blizzard in search of a single white rabbit. What the hell is he supposed to even see? Would he even know it if he was looking right at it?

It’s all just an empty storm—some nameless emotion that twists his chest and burns in his belly like fire or fear, or maybe both; and the inexplicable urge to smile.

Even his name takes ages to return. (His voice takes even longer.)

The kind people that brought him from the brink of death keep saying "You've been in a terrible accident," but right around the same time that Rosinante reclaimed his name from the blizzard in his brain, he also reclaimed knowledge about what bullet scars look like. Rosinante has far too many of those to call anything he’s suffered “accidental.” (He has scars that he can’t identify; scars that terrify him to look at, that seem to have belonged to this body far longer than he has).

He starts thinking of the kind townspeople as "the kind civilians" at about the same time; it's the only word Rosinante has for the "myself" and "them" distinction that explains the easy, comfortable way they walk, their lack of fear, their non-existent defenses—bodies not marked with scars and made for war.

Rosinante wishes he could remember what fucking war he was fighting. Unfortunately, his body is more concerned with remembering how to breathe on its own, how to digest food, how to lift a cup of water to his own mouth under his own power.

The passing of time hardly means much to him. His recovery comes at a crawling pace with a grueling mental cost. The civilians who care for him are patient and kind, more compassionate than he can even stand to be with himself. He never shares his name with them—never says more than a “thank you”; he isn’t much of a conversationalist—but the nurses start calling him Uncle, even though he's just one of their many patients, unique only in his anonymity.

As those initial months spent insensate in a coma turn into weeks spent awake turn into months, and then even years, Rosinante manages to piece together fragments of a life he must have lived once. The ever-climbing sum of time since he awoke from his “Terrible Accident” fills him with a deep, fathomless dread. He doesn't know why, only that there's something he's got the feeling he's forgetting. Go figure: a rabbit in a snowstorm.

There's a boy somewhere in the blizzard; Rosinante's white rabbit. He can't recall the boy's name for the life of him.

He can recall big, dark eyes ringed purple with exhaustion. He can recall tiny, pale hands that trembled uncontrollably with stiff knuckles and chewed-up nails. He can recall already-pale skin losing pigment in ever-growing, always-spreading patches, eventually creeping up a too-thin neck and peeking out from underneath gaping sleeves. His boy was sick. His boy was also very angry.

He doesn’t know his boy's voice, but he knows the furrow in that little brow better than he knows his own face in the mirror. He knows that his kid would scream and shout himself hoarse at the slightest provocation, even when he was far too tired to carry on like that without literally exhausting himself. He remembers visiting doctor after doctor with his boy, looking for help. He remembers being turned away, time and time again, with varying degrees of fear and even outright hatred. On some days, he can’t help but look at his own loyal care-takers and think, “what have you done to him?” despite knowing that they’ve done nothing but help and keep him alive and well in what must amount to a rather thankless job otherwise. They did nothing to his kid, Rosinante is certain. Any failing here feels inexorably his own.

It eats at him every day that he still breathes that Rosinante does not know his boy’s name anymore and cannot say what happened to him. He knows in the deepest part of himself that he would have done anything in the world to protect his child. He would have died happily for that boy.

For longer than Rosinante cares to admit even to himself, that’s all he can say.

And then one day, one of the nurses brings in a newspaper that gets passed around the ward for the usual entertainment value—crosswords, advice columns, and those little comics that they put in the back with the printed advertisements. (Rosinante likes the advice columns, especially those which are about others’ misfortunes in romance.)

It just so-happens that this week’s paper drops a photograph of Donquixote Doflamingo's broken body in the wreckage of Dressrosa right into Rosinante’s lap.

(There was more than a rabbit out in that storm.)

_______________________

Law repels the News Coo like oil on water. And although Law is the Captain of their esteemed vessel, it is Bepo who receives the mail when the Polar Tang breaks surface. For reasons unknown to Bepo, the News Coo are adamant that Law is to be avoided at all costs. They will fly out of their way to avoid landing anywhere within the Captain’s glaring radius.

And of course, Bepo has asked why! He just has no idea what the News Coo mean by “toxic vibes”; perhaps it's an idiom?

Their commitment to pretending Law does not exist has to be commended, though it does lead to some rather awkward situations for Bepo as the de-facto Mail Bear of the Polar Tang. He could have lived his whole life never knowing Shachi’s preferences in illicit magazine subscriptions, but alas… The mail must be delivered.

Law rarely receives things directly in the mail. He retains first dibs on all newspapers before he passes them on to Jean Bart, and after Jean Bart is done with the paper it's free grabs for the rest of them—the front-page announcement of Doflamingo’s fall has a place of honor, framed in gold in the Polar Tang’s galley. He also maintains a few subscriptions to a surgical journal or two, but Law ultimately prefers to communicate with their allies via DenDen to avoid compromising any intel.

But today, Law has received a letter. Bepo doesn’t think Law has ever received a letter; Law has been his Captain for a very long time, now.

There is no return address on the simple brown envelope, comically small in Bepo’s large paws. Trafalgar D. Water Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates is written in neat, tall script with black ink. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Who is this from?” Bepo asks the News Coo, which shoots him a long-suffering look down the length of their beak as if to say, “Really? You’re asking me?”

“Right, right,” he sheepishly grumbles. “You wouldn’t know. Sorry.”

(For a moment, Bepo wonders whether it is from Strawhat before he comes to his senses and asks whether or not he truly believes that the other pirate Captain can even read, let alone write so legibly.)

Bepo expects that Law will just tell him when Bepo hands the letter over with a cheery, “For you, Cap’n! Who’s it from?”

Law just raises an eyebrow before shrugging and opening it. This is a good sign! If it was a secret, he’d just tell Bepo to go stick his nose somewhere else.

But Law’s face flushes nearly as pale as Bepo’s fur as he begins to read, some expression blooming across his face in slow-motion that Bepo cannot name. His dark eyes take in the contents quickly before he reads it again and again, still not saying a word.

“This came in with the rest of it? Like usual?” Law croaks. His voice is hoarse like he’s been shouting at Strawhat Luffy's crew for hours.

“Yes, just like normal. Are you alright, Law?” Bepo asks. “What is it?”

When Law finally looks up at him, tearing his unreadable gaze from the single-page note to meet Bepo’s eyes, Bepo sees that his Captain is crying.

“I need to go to Rubeck Island.”

So Bepo takes him. What more could he do with Law looking at him like that?

__________________________

Rosinante was not expecting him to come. Why would he? What could Rosinante possibly have to offer him thirteen years too late? Thirteen years dead? Any apology he could offer—and he’d sat down to write thousands of them—would be meaningless in the face of everything Law has endured in his name.

Law.

Nonetheless, Rosinante knows the very instant Trafalgar D. Water Law enters the hospital, long before Law even comes to his room. He is not so frail as to have lost all of his Haki, and there is not a shred of doubt in his mind that the presence he feels must belong to the famed “Surgeon of Death.” Who else with a presence like that would come here?

When Law does come to him, Rosinante does not see him until Law is well and ready. Rosinante is waiting as patiently as he can in the rec room with a book he hasn’t read a single word out of when he finally realizes that the room has gradually emptied of all other occupants over time—patients and nurses alike—and he's placed the single entrance and exit to the room behind him.

A deep, rumbling voice says, “Room,” just as the observation really processes and an eerie blue light swells to encompass the space. Rosinante knows who is standing behind his chair. He knew even before his boy spoke.

“You have one chance to give me a reason to believe you are who you say you are, or I’ll kill you," Law says. His voice is steel without a hint of give. It's the best thing Rosinante has ever heard in his life.

When Rosinante turns around, he does so slowly, like he’s afraid Law will startle and disappear if he moves too fast. He doesn’t stand—doesn’t want him to feel crowded. No matter how many times he’d told himself—promised himself, even—that if Law ever came, he would keep it together, the moment Rosinante lays his eyes on his boy, all grown up, he begins to cry.

Law got tall. He’s a skinny thing, still, with that same silly hat and those same dark, tired eyes. For all that he is different, the expression on his face is the exact same expression Rosinante remembers from the day he nearly died—his boy looking up at him with desperate fury as Rosinante told him he loved him as if it could ever make up for dying and leaving him alone again.

“Calm,” he says tearily, throwing up a sound-barrier and answering the question all at once.

________________________

Law’s eyes are just the same as he remembered: big, dark, and smudged purple underneath with too little sleep. He’s just as painfully expressive as he was as a child, wearing his embarrassment, pride, humor, and even his anger just as familiarly as he always had. Those tiny, pale hands that once trembled uncontrollably are now hands that spell out DEATH and are surgeon-steady, swordsman calloused. His boy was sick, but has healed. Recovered. Covered his body in ink, named his crew “Heart”, and found himself a family in a crew of misfits.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” Rosinante tells his child, now a man, and means it not for the revenge Law won them—won for them both, and all of Doffy’s victims, too—but for living.

For @legendary-chemistry!!! I know you said specifics didn't matter but I made the mistake of thinking about it too hard and Sabo'd your Corazon. Oops

Support me on Ko-Fi! Reblogs are always welcome!

#trixree writes #speed commissions #corazon one piece #one piece corazon #one piece law #law one piece #gen fic #fix-it au #will upload to ao3 later!#tw: memory loss #tw: injury recovery

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 months

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🌪️🌪️🌪️

🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags:

Lo Ruyot (Into the Past)

#Time Travel Fix-It

#That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars)

#Everyone has Issues/Everyone needs a Hug

#Ask Game #WIP Game #star wars #the clone wars #umbara arc #time travel au #fix-it au #clone ocs #clone cadet tulpa #my boy tulpa meets the 501st snd decides everyone but his dad and ba'voduse suck for real #alwayskote

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 11 months

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3zun Fix-it AU Series - MASTERPOST

Main Fic on AO3: After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

Read it on tumblr: Beginning (12 parts in total)

Summary:

"'Count your blessings', they'll say. And after each midnight begins a new day. But don't place your bets on a word that they say - they'll put your life to rest..."

When Lan Xichen wakes screaming from a nightmare in the middle of the night, it's unusual but not unheard of. In the five years since the collapse of everything he thought he knew in a temple in Yunping, nightmares are his nightly companions after all.

What IS unheard of, though, is the startled exclamation from his left and the grumpy reply from his right.

Nie Mingjue on his left.

Jin Guangyao - no, Meng Yao on his right.

What the fuck?

Or: What happens when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have already gone back in time to fix everything that went wrong and Lan Xichen has, apparently, just been dragged along to share in the 'happily ever after'.

Fic Timeline Extras:

He Has Never Been Safer - An important conversation between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao (read it on tumblr: X)

Did You Do It, When I Begged? - NSFW Nielan in the Hanshi (read it on tumblr: X)

You Think I Wasn't Lost? - An important conversation between Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian (read it on tumblr: X)

Familial Circumstances - Lan Qiren visits his extended family in Jinlintai (read it on tumblr: X)

Loving, Loud, Wild, and Theirs - Jin Zixuan reflects on his enormous family, how it came to be, and how much he enjoys it now (read it on tumblr: X)

Pre-Fic Extras

*Plans To Make - Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have activated the time-travel array that will allow them to do their lives over and create a better world for everyone, told in snapshots (read it on tumblr: X X X X)

Never Felt Better Than This - NSFW NieLan's first time as teenagers (read it on tumblr: X)

Anything For My Nie-Zongzhu - NSFW NieYao in the Unclean Realm shortly before Cloud Recesses summer school (read it on tumblr: X)

To Begin Again - SangCheng during the Cloud Recesses summer school (read it on tumblr: X)

'In-Law' is a Two-Word Horror Story - SangCheng would like to get engaged and it's time for their families to negotiate (read it on tumblr: X)

Opportunities to Practice - NSFW XuanLi's wedding night (read it on tumblr: X)

Loved Here, Too - Wen Sizhui finds new friends in the other Juniors at Cloud Recesses Summer School and reflects on what it might mean to be loved by a large family (read it on tumblr: X)

Post-Fic Extras:

Thank You, and I'm Sorry - Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue have an important conversation after the revelations of the main fic, Jiang Cheng just wants to support and comfort his husband (read it on tumblr: X)

Side Works in Universe:

*Technically A Cutsleeve? - Lan Jingyi learns that attraction and gender can be wonderfully complicated, and Mo Xuanyu learns how to let himself be loved (read it on tumblr: X X X X X)

--//--

* denotes an active WIP

#the untamed fanfic #Masterpost #fix-it AU #3zun #and other assorted ships

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pollyna · 1 year

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Sometimes I wonder how it would have gone if Goose had the occasion of meeting Hondo. Maverick would have probably died of embarrassment but he would have been so happy

#like like imagine hondo sitting between the whole 86' class sharing stories about maverick and mav hiding his face in ice's chest bc he's-#-embarassed but that would be the best kind of embarassment bc his whole family is there with him!! and he feels so loved #pete maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #bernie hondo coleman #maverick & hondo friendship #fix-it au #top gun: maverick

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zealfruity · 2 months

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Got posessed by Domino Squad Lives AU emotions for the first time in a little while.

Idk where they are, but it sure is nice to vibe under the sun in some field with your bros, not having to worry about a war for once. Even just for a little while.

#domino squad lives au #tcw #clone wars #my art #tcw fives #tcw hevy #tcw droidbait #tcw cutup #tcw echo #digital art #au #fix-it au #fanart #not clonecest

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enigmatist17 · 1 year

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First Step

Part 4 of my "I'm going to fix everything because the BB finale was too emotionally damaging" Also this is very Kix heavy, but it'll be relevant later :)

One Breath is pt 3

------------------------

When Kix had woken up, strapped down in the back of Fennec Shand’s ship many months ago, it had been disorienting. Everything was too loud, too bright, and too cold as he struggled to get free.

He has to warn them!

His desperation soon turned to dismay when the bounty hunter explained that it was too late. The Republic was gone, the Jedi mostly killed off, and his brothers were either being killed off or forced into a world they were not prepared for. Kix no longer had his crew, and his family, and stayed with Fennec as her medic after she suggested he use the time to think things over. Days bled into months, and despite the occasional kind civilian, Kix was silent and kept to himself. His hair slowly grew out as time passed, and despite multiple offers to have it cut, he waved them all away. It helped to hide a face that was either a curse or a blessing depending on the day, and it helped Kix not focus on thinking about his most likely long-dead brothers.

Now, here he was, standing outside a ship that felt more like home than anything had in the last few agonizing months. They were currently fueling up at a station, heading towards some place called Pabu. Hunter told him they needed to finally face someone named Phee, and since that Kix hadn’t seen Hunter emerge from his bunk. Wrecker was sitting on the ramp while they watched the fuel slowly flow into the ship, holding a small plush in his hands. He had been welcoming to Kix, clearly pleased to see a reg they had fought with that wasn’t stuck in the Empire’s claws. Sure, Kix had seen the way Clone Force 99 had ruffled feathers before some past mission, but at the end of the day, he hadn’t faulted them for being made the way they were.

“So what’s your story?” Kix glanced over, flipping his rangefinder up to give Wrecker his full attention. He had been just idly scanning the other fueling platforms to pass the time. “Y’know, besides the whole freezin’ thing. I don’t really remember when we first met ya, all you reg’s kind of bled together after a while.”

“I was a medic with the 501st, I can deal with anything from minor wounds to extensive emergency surgery.” He explained with a shrug, extending his arms to stretch a little. “Echo will tell you I am a nightmare, but I care about my brothers and their health, even if they won’t. And don’t worry about it, it is what it is.” Wrecker chuckled at that, clearly amused.

“You joined the wrong crew then, we like to hit ‘em fast and hard. Bacta can come later.” Kix sighed, placing a hand over his visor.

“Exactly my problem.” Wrecker laughed again, getting to his feet once he noticed the fuel was finally taken care of.

“So, just askin’ ‘cause I know other people won’t, but do you uh, help with more than just cuts n’ stuff?” The fuel line looked like nothing to the bigger clone as he unhooked it, Kix making sure everything was paid for before closing up the hatch.

“Do you mean psychologically?” Wrecker nodded as he watched, taking his helmet off to reveal a frown.

“I’m not too good with the words and all, but I’m worried for Hunter and Echo, they’re hurtin’ bad.”

“I can offer what I can.” Kix reached out and patted Wrecker’s upper arm, Wrecker seeing his tired face reflected in the visor pointing up at him.

“C’mon, we have a while to Pabu.” Kix followed the other back into the Marauder, and it wasn’t long before Wrecker had them up and heading toward the planet. He left the ship into Echo’s care, the other having woken from his rest to make sure they arrived in one piece.

“You should go to sleep too,” Echo said after settling into his seat, trying not to look at the other captain’s chair to his direct left.

“I’ll be fine.” Kix was seated on the floor, finally removing his helmet once he was sure Wrecker was gone. Thick black hair was tousled from being awkwardly compressed in his helmet, but the medic didn’t seem to care as he slicked it back enough to look presentable.

“Never figured you one for long hair,” Echo commented, and Kix shrugged, looking down at the helmet in his hands. He seemed to have painted his once-white armor a dark grey, the faded marks of the 501st outlined with red to accentuate what was left, the pattern continuing along his entire set of armor and familiar medical bag. His regulation belt had been replaced with a leather version, carrying space for more medical supplies and ammo reserves, the magazines matching the long-range rifle he had boarded with.

“Didn’t much see the effort of keepin’ it short anymore.” Kix shrugged, glancing up when Echo turned to face him fully.

“Go grab a blanket, small console under the gunner’s seat.” Kix opened his mouth to argue, but Echo pointed with a firm glare. The clone did as ordered, and upon his return, sits with his back against Echo’s seat, head reclining back against the others’ metallic leg. Kix remembers when they all had lost Echo after the Citadel, and the utter sadness and rage he felt when Fives cried out in despair. He remembers going to his barracks once they had returned to Coruscant, and holding in his screams of anger and heartbreak until he locked the door behind him, throwing a random table so hard in his rage he dented one of the walls. Kix remembers when the rage finally left, and he just curled up in his bed miserably until Jesse stubbornly forced the lock and pulled his cot next to Kix’s. To sit here now, able to hear Echo breathing as he guided the ship to Pabu with his scomp hand, and rested his other hand on top of Kix’s head?

It’s the first time Kix doesn’t dream of his dead brothers when he finally passes out from exhaustion.

---------------------- It’s so warm, yet cold.

Curious

It’s blue when dazed eyes slowly open, just pure blue no matter where they look.

Was it supposed to be blue?

Well, what was it exactly? Death? Life?

It was hard to pinpoint what exactly should or shouldn’t be blue, and just when the answer might come to mind, everything goes dark .

------------------------ The jostling of the Marauder landing wakes Kix, and for a moment he doesn’t recognize where he is. Shaking his head as he sits up, it hits the medic that he’s with Echo when a familiar face comes into view.

“Welcome to the land of the living.” The smile he has is weak, and the medic is hoisted to his feet without effort. Slipping on his helmet, Kix follows Echo out of the cockpit and down the extended ramp, blinking at the bright sunlight that met them. From what he can see past the monolithic tower just behind the ship, there is just a beautiful ocean that seemed to stretch past the horizon for eternity, the gentle smell of the ocean making its way past his helmet's filters.

“You’re lying!” A heartbroken voice slices through the gentle picture, and Kix turns to see Hunter holding a woman in his arms. She looked furious as she gripped his arms tight, as if trying so hard not to believe the news Hunter had given to her, but the tears filling her eyes betrayed everything.

“I’m sorry.” Wrecker placed a hand on her back, and it was not hard to see the guilt written on his face.

“We’re sorry Phee.” Echo joins the group, and Kix watches as the woman just slumps against Hunter, not making a single noise as she processes the news. The medic wanders off to give the group some privacy, traveling to the edge of the large platform to gaze out at the massive town below. He pulls down his rangefinder when some sort of Imperial cargo craft parked on an expanse of the far coast catches his attention, and after glancing back at the small group behind him still in mourning, he decides to go and investigate.

The island denizens seem a little nervous about the medic, but he just waves and says nothing as he heads toward his goal. The area where the ship was located seemed to have been turned into a large makeshift camp, several tents erected around the ship. There were a few clones milling around, all of them tensing when Kix rounded into view, and for a moment they just looked at each other.

“Who’re you?” One of them asks, and Kix removes his helmet to put them at ease.

“Kix.” He maintains eye contact with the first one who had spoken and is glad to see no one going for weapons. “Imperial?”

“No.” The anger in the response settles Kix’s nerves, and he watches as a few more clones emerge from the ship in curiosity, each of them looking haggard and wary.

“You’re a medic right?” One of them asks, and Kix knows he’s seen the man before, but couldn’t recall from where. “We have wounded.”

“Lead on.” He sees the way a lot of the men are relieved to hear his response, and whatever misgivings Kix had faded away as he’s led into the ship. There are several men either lying in cots from the island or sitting against walls in the main storage bay, and Kix takes in the sight before looking around for any supplies. There are a bunch of crates pushed aside, but Kix doubted they had anything to help. “What do you have?”

“Not much, but the islanders have offered to give us whatever we need.” The familiar man spoke, and Kix set his helmet aside on a crate-turned table before tying his hair back from his face.

“Get whatever they’re willing to give, I need just about everything.” He commanded, before pausing. “We’ve met before…?”

“Feedback, formerly 41st scout battalion.” He replied, and Kix nodded as it came to him. “I’ll see what I can find for you, sir.”

With that, Kix lost himself in work that was familiar, and comforting in a strange way. The soldiers here had clearly escaped from the Empire recently, a lot of the wounds older and requiring little work on his side, while others had been poorly handled to just keep the injured alive. One by one, Kix worked his way through the injured, assuring them in mando’a they would recover, slipping into a routine he never thought would be possible ever again. One clone, in particular, had the worst injuries, some sort of commander judging by the way he was given a private storage room and constantly checked in on. Kix had to eventually lock the door so he could have enough room to tend to the man, honestly surprised he was still alive going this long without proper care.

It’s dusk by the time Kix emerges from the ship, wiping some sweat from his forehead as he steps out for some fresh air. A large bonfire was going on the beach, some sort of creature slowly being roasted as several of his brothers sat around and talked amongst themselves, and for a moment Kix could just imagine being back with the 501st. It’s fleeting, those memories never stay long these days, and Kix takes a seat on a nearby crate to just gaze out at the ocean. He’s eventually roused from his thoughts when various clones tense, Echo and the others finally having come to check out the crew for themselves.

“We’re all good here.” Kix waved, and can see the way Echo loosens his stance in relief. Hunter doesn’t seem as convinced, but Wrecker grins and marches forward with some crates he had carried down from elsewhere.

“I brought a gift!” The crates are each full of fresh fruit and clean clothes, which are doled out with weak smiles and happy chatter among the former Imperial soldiers. “Heard you lot don’t really talk to everyone else here.”

”Not really a surprise.” One man shrugs, holding the mango in his hands like it’s some valuable work of art.

“If it wasn’t for Crosshair and Mayday, we’d still be slaves.” Another man comments, and Hunter sucks in a breath.

“You know Crosshair?!” Wrecker and Echo both look at the man who had spoken, who seemed surprised they knew him as well.

“He’s the reason we rebelled. He and Mayday almost died because of some idiot. The Empire took Crosshair, and even though Mayday was still breathing, ordered us to abandon him.”

“What did we do? Killed all of their shiny new troopers and bailed.” Another clone spoke up, clearly pleased by what they had done. “Fuck ‘em, we’re done leavin’ our own behind.”

“Hear that one.” Wrecker nodded, taking in a slow breath as he watched Hunter flick through a hundred different emotions. It wasn’t visible to the regs, but he’d known his brother long enough to see the microexpressions of shame and anxiety rippling through his leader. Those same emotions swirled in his own head, but Wrecker couldn’t focus on those emotions, not now, not when he needed to be strong for his brothers.

“Did any of you hear where they took him?” Echo asked, and most of them shook their heads.

“If we did, we would have gone after him.” The first man spoke up, clearly unhappy with what had transpired as his brothers nod in agreement.

“If we told you guys we’re lookin’ for him, would you help us get him back?” All eyes turned to Wrecker, who looked hopeful for the first time in weeks.

“Without question.” One stood up, giving a salute.

“Same here, we owe him our lives.” Another stood, the small group he had been seated with rising a second later. It’s not long before every single clone has risen to their feet, each and every one of them determined to help save the man who helped themselves. The touching moment is ruined when someone emerges from the ship, scanning the area for Kix.

“Sir, our commander is awake!” The medic gets to his feet almost instantly, and heads into the ship with Hunter close on his heels, the large group around them bursting into excited chatter. The tracker is dismayed to see even more men resting in the cargo hold, and wonders how the hell they had escaped with so many wounded. Kix turns into a barracks-turned private room, and hovers in the doorway as the medic kneels down beside the sole occupant. He had clearly taken a beating, Hunter could hear mending broken bones scraping against each other with each breath.

“When did we get a medic?” The commander groaned, blearily looking straight up after Kix checked his eyes and pulse.

“About five hours ago. You’re lucky to still be alive, I don’t know how you survived being crushed like this.” Kix gives a small grin. “You gotta name?”

“Mayday. Is Crosshair here?” Mayday wheezed slightly when Kix pressed a cool device to his skin, listening to his breathing.

“No, the Empire has him,” Hunter responded, and Mayday looked down to see the man.

“What?” Mayday sighed, and cursed a bit in mando’a. “Why didn’t he just leave me…”

“What happened?” Hunter enters the room and stands by the bed so Mayday didn’t have to crane his neck.

“The usual. Some Imperial prick ordered us to go after some damned crates, and an avalanche ended up crushin’ me against a rock.” Mayday shrugged, and immediately wheezed at the pain. “Don’t know why he didn’t leave me behind.”

“He can be stubborn,” Hunter muttered, and Mayday shook his head.

“I take it you’re from the 99 squad…knew he was lying.” The other muttered, and Hunter wasn’t surprised to hear Crosshair had done so. “Tell me something, why weren’t you with him?”

“We…” Hunter glanced away, finding the floor suddenly fascinating. “It’s a long story.”

“Yea…yea I get that. Have a few myself.” The space fell silent for some time, Kix eventually standing once he had finished his examinations.

“The bacta is doing what it can, but you’re not going to be mobile for at least another week, two if you’re lucky,” Mayday grumbled, but was glad to hear it could be sooner than he figured it would take. The medic packed up his gear and headed out, leaving Hunter and Mayday in the room staring at each other.

“Was Crosshair…was he alright?” The question came so easily, one that Hunter had been dying to ask for so long.

“He was tired , underneath that warm and cuddly exterior.” Mayday chuckled, and Hunter couldn't help but shake his head. “I heard him beg for help, and felt the way he held me before he grabbed my gun. I’ve been around a long time to know that desperation, and…he didn’t fight back.”

It felt like the warm and pleasant air was suddenly sucked from the room, Hunter’s heart pounding as his lungs screamed for air. Crosshair never pleaded, never begged, and yet he had…because they abandoned him.

“You’re going after him, right?” Mayday asked, and he waited for Hunter to look at him. He can see the emotions he felt when every single one of his squad died, and knows the burden he now shoulders.

“I’m not going to stop looking until I find him.” The Batcher snarled, and Mayday was impressed.

“Good, good.” The drugs are slowly pulling the commander back to sleep, and he reaches out to snatch Hunter’s shirt when the other moves to leave. “Whatever happened, it’s all in the past for him now.”

“...I know, I never stopped loving him.” With that Hunter steps out, and Mayday lets sleep claim him.

—--------------------

It’s early morning when the communicator beeps, and Rex wants to sigh in frustration.

So much for sleep.

The frustration fades when Echo’s familiar communique number flashes and the captain forgoes getting dressed to answer it as soon as possible.

“Rex?” Echo smiled a little at seeing his old friend. “You need a haircut.”

“So I keep hearing.” The leader sighed and rolls his eyes. “Good to see you.”

“I’m not the only one here Rex,” Echo replied, and the tone in his voice has Rex instantly on edge.

“Echo? Is something wrong?” As usual, a million different scenarios run through his head, and the one thing that didn’t come to mind was Echo moving to have someone else come into view.

“Rex? You’re alive?” Rex’s eyes went wide, and the shirt he had hastily grabbed fell to the floor of his temporary shelter.

“ Kix ?” Memories of another loss flash in his mind, remembering when the medic had vanished shortly before they had rescued Echo.

“It’s good to see you, sir.” Kix smiled, and Rex couldn't help but let out a laugh as he stared at his friend.

“I know we can’t talk long, but you deserved to know.” Echo could be heard just out of view, and Rex could easily picture the way Echo was most likely smiling. “I also have news, we may have some information on the whereabouts of Omega and Crosshair.”

“You do?” Rex grabbed his nearest datapad as the other comm was set on a table, Rex able to see the two in what looked like the Marauder's cockpit.

“I’m still decrypting the information we received, but I am hopeful. If it does give us what we’re looking for…Rex, we could free hundreds of clones.” Echo remembered going through the transfer logs, and felt ill at seeing so many men being sent to their deaths or worse.

“What are we saying here, a full retrieval?” Rex asked, and Echo nodded without hesitation. “That’s going to take time to organize…” “I know…we found some defectors who have already offered to help, but we’ll need more hands. Wherever they are, we’re going to bring the whole place down.” Rex nodded, and already his mind was racing with ideas and quickly forming plans.

“I’ll get started right away, and I’ll be in contact. Oh, and Kix? You have no idea how happy I am to see you.” Kix gave a soft smile, and leaned forward in his seat.

“You too Captain, you too.” A moment later the hologram fades out, and Kix stares at the space where Rex had been.

“Are you going to be alright?” Kix nodded, and the two sat in silence for a moment, before Echo straightens.

“I need to keep working on the data.” He had only scratched the surface of what Fennec had recovered and knew it was going to be one of many long nights.

“Then I’ll make myself comfortable.” The medic shrugged, and moved to take a seat on the floor as Echo got to work. As the ARC trooper worked, he filled Kix in on everything he had missed, and in turn, Kix did the same, the sun slowly setting as they talked late into the night.

Finally, things were starting to go their way.

#personal #bad batch #bad batch spoilers #tbb #tbb spoilers #tech #hunter #wrecker #echo #kix #rex #mayday #phee genoa #fix-it AU

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