Hey y'all!! My name is Katie (not my real name haha just a pseudonym)
This is a Masterlist for my blog!
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Reading section:
All of my fics Masterlist
Summer of Bad Batch (SoBB) 2024 Masterlist
Summer of Bad Batch (SoBB) 2025 Masterlist
My Ao3
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Info Section:
All my rambles or original posts are under the tag '#katie rambles'
My writing side blog is @parker-fangirl, where I will now be posting my fics, original stories, and poems.
Rules under the cut :)
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A few rules:
• No bullying, to anyone. I don't tolerate any negative talk on my page, unless it's constructive criticism on my fics.
• No offensive language, i.e. slurs, explicit language, threats, etc.
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Rules for asks:
• Asks can be anon, however if you abuse that anon mask, it will be turned off.
• Asks for fics are very much welcome but understand that I will need some time to complete them. I am human, after all, with college work that takes precedence.
• Asks just to talk or express something is always welcome. I am very friendly :)
Any questions that aren't answered here? Send me an ask! I'll gladly help clear up any confusion or expansion to the rules. :)
Two characters are having a serious argument/fight when they are captured before they can reach any resolution/reconciliation- to gain their captors good graces/better both of their chances for escape, one character immediately plays into the captors' assumptions that they would rather side with the captors than their companion; without any chance to communicate otherwise, and with their last interaction prior to capture being so contentious, this betrayal is genuine so far as the other captured character knows- even if they maintain the thin hope it's not, it certainly seems to be and the pretending character can't give any indication of their plan without risking the ruse; they have to maintain the pretense even unto hurting their friend through word or action and their companion is left bereft and apparently friendless throughout their captivity, with the added sting of betrayal and abandonment.
i started writing again during winter break so i could actually some healthy coping mechanisms and i wrote about two people falling in love in a coffee shop and made one of them deaf.... i also chickened out and posted it under anonymous.... so if you find me say hi !!
okay but actually do have school to do now and a draft to edit for my anon series hehe
you haven't ruined yourself you don't have that much power you haven't ruined yourself you don't have that much power you haven't ruined yourself you don't
Synopsis: Crosshair has a headache, Hunter is protective over his baby brother.
Warnings: Implied self-destructive behavior
Word count:1020
Prompt(s): "Give me your hand." / Brothers / "Don't even think about it."
Read on Ao3
Clones. People, made and designed as a replica of a single person. Bred and raised for war. Trained with weapons and artillery. Bodies strengthened with endurance and perseverance.
Hearts of gold. Eyes bright and shining until horrors begin to snuff it out. Minds sharp and quick witted. Hands made for holding weapons, pulling the trigger again and again.
Crosshair grew up knowing all of this. He knew the weight of performing the perfect standard required of ‘defective’ clones. He pushed to be perfect, scowling at mark offs and nodding in satisfaction at full marks.
He didn't celebrate the wins. That meant getting comfortable with success. He wasn't there yet. So he nodded and continued to practice.
Hours would fly as non-lethal bolts found their mark on the target. Bullseyes mostly, but a few strays hit the outer rings. No where near the edge, just the ring outside the dead center. But it was still a failure, points marked off.
Regs, as Wrecker had taken to calling the regular clones, were in awe of his skill. They said he had talent, a shooter’s instinct. While there were some good hearted ones that said that, most mocked him, pointing out the mistakes in posture or shooting time or precision. Crosshair learned to let it roll off him.
Until today. It had already started out bad, then turned to terrible.
A headache, no big deal. He could push through it and train as usual. Crosshair knew Hunter noticed in the way he spoke slightly softer to him, letting him hang towards the back of the group, not rough housing in the usual way.
Training went as fine as could be expected. Not perfect but just barely. Crosshair didn't have the mental capability to care as much today. Just took his rifle to the shooting range as per routine.
Regs filled the spaces further down so Crosshair took the first open lane. He assembled his rifle with practiced ease, putting in a new magazine of non-lethal bolts.
The steady thrum of the barrel against his shoulder oddly helped his headache, dulling the piercing to a knocking. Each bolt had the rifle jutting into him as hands held the weapon steady.
He didn't know anybody was watching until the first missed bolt earned a harsh scoff. His next missed bolt had the clone laughing, and the next was a rude comment.
Easy to dismiss, easy to show he could hit dead center the next ten shots, easy to tune out the rest of the world and focus on the scope.
He didn't hear Hunter order the others to back off, his early sargeant status gaining somewhat respect. He didn't notice when Hunter was leaned up against the wall behind him, watching the practice carefully.
Not the shots, but Crosshair.
Brothers. An unspoken, widely acknowledged term used within the GAR. Specifically within units. Easy comradery turned to affection. Pats on the back turned to bear hugs. Teasing turned to rough housing.
Clone Force 99 was a little different from the regs but no less affectionate.
Soft, questioning looks asking if the other was okay. Needing the others to be close when not feeling well. Someone caring when the other spirals.
Hunter was the leader and while Wrecker probably had the softest heart, their leader was right behind him. Always had eyes on the three of them, making sure they all were taken care of and not falling behind.
Even now, his eyes weren't on how well Crosshair was shooting, but trying to see how he was doing physically and mentally. Hunter saw the strain in his shoulders from the headache and holding his rifle all day. He saw the ratio of hits and misses.
“Cross,” Hunter called out, soft in tone but loud enough to be heard, “I need you for reports training.”
“Get Tech.” He didn't miss a beat, firing off another shot.
“He’s off with Wrecker. Come on, I’ll dig out our stash of goodies.” He said, teasing evident in his tone.
“I’m not Wrecker, I can't be bribed with sweets.”
Hunter huffed, clenching his hands around his biceps before uncrossing his arms and stepping forward.
“Alright, enough. Let’s go.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes but dismantled his rifle and put it away. Hunter didn't miss the soft hiss of pain from the younger and the slight shake of his shooting hand. The rifle case was held in his left hand.
They didn't get two steps into their room before Hunter was already moving towards the refresher. Crosshair lifted a brow in confusion, putting his case down softly while still looking towards the ‘fresher. Hunter came out with the first aid kit, setting it down on the table.
“What are you doing?” Crosshair asked, drifting closer.
“Take this for your head before you keel over in pain. Then, sit down.” Hunter held out the pills and Crosshair swallowed them easily. He was tempted to refuse whatever else it was Hunter had on his agenda but sitting down sounded nice. Plus, Hunter had his ‘Don’t even think about it’ face on so. “Give me your hand.”
It wasn't harsh or demanding. It was soft, warm, concern bleeding through.
Crosshair put his shooting hand out and Hunter took it gently, inspecting it. There were a few cuts across his trigger finger, sharp weapons having cut into his skin throughout the day. There was a slight tremble to his fingers.
Hunter took out a small bandage, wrapping it around his pointer finger. Crosshair had his eyes zeroed in on the bandage, even after Hunter had put his hand down onto the younger’s lap while he put away the kit.
The leader glanced at the sniper, a little glance, one Crosshair had seen millions of times and would usually respond with an eye roll. He was asking if he was okay.
“Thanks. For… you know. Thank you.” Crosshair said, not meeting Hunter’s eyes. He felt the smile the leader gave though, the relief in Crosshair’s roundabout way of answering positively.
“You’re welcome.” Hunter replied. He didn't say what he wanted to, no lecture about taking better care of himself, just left the warm atmosphere as he put the kit away silently.
@summer-of-bad-batch-reblogs @summer-of-bad-batch
did i write this after finishing the first one? yes.
did i realize that most of these are probably going to be angsty and about crosshair? yes
to be honest, i don't know if i'll end up doing as much cadet batch as i did last year or even did in general in past years. there will be some (i'm looking at the tattoos prompt specifically) but there might be more of them as teenagers before the war or after the war. 👀
☀️🌻Summer of Bad Batch One-Shots 2025 Masterlist!!!🌻☀️
Hey yall!! Jumping on this year's Summer of Bad Batch event!!
This is a list of my 2025 prompt fills. My masterlist for last year's prompt fills is in my pinned post ☺️
Without further ado, here's a list of my prompt fills and their synopsis':
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i was scared to fall, but i feel safe with you
Read on Tumblr
Read on Ao3
- Crosshair has anxiety after the batch settle on Pabu. Hunter is there for him.
☀️
let me take your hand, i'll make it right
Read on Tumblr
Read on Ao3
- Crosshair has a headache. Hunter is overprotective of his baby brother.
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More entries to be added as the weeks progress!! 🩵 Enjoy!!
Synopsis: Crosshair has anxiety after the batch settle down on Pabu. Hunter is there for him.
Warnings: Anxiety, anxiety attack (not graphic nor bad) Please don't read if you feel you'll be triggered. Take care of yourself!
Word count: 866
Prompt(s): "You're here. You're safe." / Late night beach walks / "It's too early for this."
Read on Ao3
Pabu. To the locals it was home, a nice place most had lived their whole lives on. To the clones, it was safety, a promise away from war and its horrors.
But even though it was quiet and peaceful, it was almost too peaceful. Or at least that's what Crosshair's mind screamed at night.
Anxiety, Tech would say. The anticipation that something bad was going to happen even in a place deemed safe. Tech explained that since he went from Republic to Empire to Tantiss and then was dropped into Pabu life, there wasn't a slow ease into peaceful life. None of the batch had a 'slow' ease but it was slower than Crosshair. While he was skeptical of the reasoning, Tech was usually right.
In the batch's home, you could practically hear every rustle without needing Hunter's enhanced senses. Crosshair hated it.
When he was a cadet, he cursed the rainstorms on Kamino. The loud thunder, bright flashes of lightning, the rolling waves, it all kept him awake most nights.
They weren't too far from the beach, in fact Omega went down there with Batcher every morning, but the crashing ocean waves were too faint to be soothing.
Finally having enough of tossing and turning, Crosshair tossed his blanket to the side and got up. He tiptoed across the house and quietly slipped on his shoes before leaving and making his way down to the beach.
It was late, the moon long since set. The dark was far from comforting but being able to see the stars made it a little better. He trudged to the docks, finding the extra one that didn't have a boat tied to it. The former sniper sat down at the end, left hand gripping the wood and right arm in his lap.
Crosshair felt phantom tremors in his right 'hand'. It annoyed him to no end. His heart fluttered and his arm came up to rub his chest. Now that he was thinking about it, his breathing hadn't slowed since he sat. It was shallow and fast.
He scooted back, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, dropping his head onto his knees and tried to breathe.
Footsteps quietly made their way towards him, the wood making them louder than they should've been. Crosshair recognized the gait, how could he not? He'd heard it enough through his life, there's no chance of forgetting it.
The footsteps stopped next to him before slight shuffling told him that they had sat down. Crosshair took a sharp breath in, blowing it out slowly.
"You know," The husky voice spoke up, "Tech says to breathe slowly in and out."
"Works better out." Crosshair said, not quite a snap but terse. Hunter huffed, whether it was in annoyance or amusement, Crosshair couldn't tell.
This wasn't the first time this has happened and it definitely won't be the last. It's always Hunter that comes to find him, either already awake or woken by someone moving around the house.
"How'd you do it?" Crosshair asks, voice small.
Hunter never thinks about their age order. He acts like the parent, the leader, the oldest. Wrecker and Tech, by all stereotypes, do often act like middle children, responsible but chaotic at times. But with Crosshair, he matured quickly and even others didn't guess that he was the youngest. Not by much, but still the youngest.
Hearing Crosshair's voice small, afraid, made the older brother instinct in Hunter activate.
"Well, to be honest, I don't know. It takes time. And I know that's not really what you want to hear, but it's the truth. It’s too early to know how long it’ll take for you." Hunter said, carefully putting a hand on Crosshair's shoulder so as not to scare him. The contact helped, softening the tension in his muscles. Actions, Crosshair’s love language, both giving and receiving.
"I don't..." Crosshair started, taking another breath in, this time slower, and exhaling just as slow, looking up at his brother, "I can't relax. It's been so long since we've had an assignment, I feel like at any moment we'll be called to the next fight."
Hunter moved his hand from his shoulder to his back, rubbing small circles across his upper back. "It's okay. You're safe now. You're here, on Pabu, and it's safe.”
Crosshair just huffed, dropping his head down to his knees again. Hunter continued the circles but stayed silent.
Truth was, they had this conversation several times. Hunter was prepared for the lash outs and harsh words with a venom tone and soft eyes. He wasn't prepared for Crosshair to lean into his side, curling up like a cadet and putting his ear to Hunter’s chest to listen to his heartbeat.
The older clone just adjusted, his hand going from his back to his shoulder, holding him close. Whether it was from coming down from an anxiety high or just the late hour, Crosshair found himself nuzzling close and closing his eyes.
The ocean waves lapped below in a soft crash, the breeze blowing foliage in whispers, and the rise and fall as two clones breathed the sweet scent of Pabu. Of safety.
hehe hiiii
so i wasn't really planning to join in this year. tbh i was just going to read from the sidelines and participate in the polls.
but the writer bug bit me so i started writing and wrote this in an hour...
i can't wait to write for the other prompts!! (i might go for super overachiever this year 👀)
@summer-of-bad-batch @summer-of-bad-batch-reblogs hi kyber!!! so excited for a second year of bad batch writings!!! 💜
new profile pic in honor of some star wars accounts over on insta doing it this weekend (had to choose my commander first) i'll be changing it this time tomorrow to either tech or cross and then the next day with whichever one i didn't do and then keep it that way for a bit lol
Look, I know he can be aggravating, but what you have to remember is he’s not doing it on purpose, it’s just how he is. But he’s also loyal and trustworthy and we have fun together.