I saw that headcanon about the name Howzer coming from him asking his superiors “but how sir?” but what if his name is actually Ballast (like, the name he chose for himself) and Howzer is just a nickname? The shinies all found him so gorgeous they’d whisper to each other “how sir?? how are you so hot??” whenever he walked by. Eventually someone found out his rank and the whispers morphed into “it’s captain how sir!!” But the Jedi generals overheard all this and thought poor Ballast’s real name was Howzer. They all started calling him Captain Howzer, and not wanting to seem insubordinate and/or just out of confusion, Ballast/Howzer never corrected them. He still doesn’t know where “Howzer” came from.
Pairing: Howzer x Reader (as always, it become GN!Reader)
Genre: Fluff
Words: 1,554
Warnings: N/A
Notes: Sequel to Don't Wait For Me, but happier! Used the prompts 'I love your Smile' from the Gentle Love Prompts
AO3 (registered users only)
Maserlists: x reader, oc x canon & oc x oc, 210th Squad (in the works)
Summary: After months of not seeing him, and hoping he was alive but never believing it, Howzer is rescued and you, giving intel to the Clone Resistance led by Rex, cannot believe your eyes.
Reblog to support, and Ihave requests open <3
You heard the ship Echo had left on return and raised your head at the commotion. It was more like the old days – the days of the Republic fighting Separatists may have been barely a year ago, but it was a different era. An age where democracy existed; an age where people were more considered than they were now. Maybe it wasn’t perfect. Maybe not everyone was thought about it: Clones certainly weren’t seen as people by anyone except those that fought beside and worked with them (mostly), even the Jedi (whatever good that did them in the end you supposed), and the most impoverished were forgotten about as the war ensued. But no one was thought about now except their Emperor.
You were familiar here. You knew what you were doing, and the intel your clearances got you was invaluable to the resistance growing, doubled now the Empire was casting Clones aside, and more realised they were still fighting for a Republic that had been replaced with oppression, tyranny, and a democracy that had been dismantled with glee from across the senate floor.
It felt like you were being useful and fighting what you signed up for as a Republic civilian helping the cause, not conforming to what you were fighting against.
Clones jogged across the hanger, a few holding trays of warm drinks (you last heard a group had intercepted a few crates of malted milk powder, which was full of vitamins and good for lowering stress levels. You assumed it was that. Any caffeine on top of adrenaline didn’t sound like a good mix). Some went straight to the shuttle, where those who left the day before strode to take seats with a couple of prisoners who had been rescued.
But one… one looked familiar. He, like most clones, had the same facial features and structure, but the scar on his left cheek…. You recognised it. Immediately. His hair was the same, maybe a little longer but still recognisable as his, and if he just turned to look your way…
He didn’t. Much to your disappointment. Not that you knew why you were disappointed – he probably didn’t know you were there, and you didn’t tell anyone about you and Howzer’s relationship. It wasn’t like the kiss he gave you, with you pressed against the wall, before he forced you to leave him behind selfishly, haunted you every day.
He did it for a selfless reason, and you loved him for it. Yet every time you went somewhere, you looked in the crowds for him as if he would ever escape instead of, heroically or stupidly, taking his punishment.
Was the disappointment because he wasn’t looking?
You wouldn’t know even if he was with how you looked away. If you hadn’t, you would have seen him scanning his surroundings: not with worry or scepticism, but curiosity. Hope.Hope that he would find you around the side of a crate, or trying to link something up to a datapad. Hope that you were there. Because just as he never left your thoughts, you never left his. His men all knew that, too. Even on the escape, the two that remained with him asked if he hoped you would be there; helping the resistance of Clones to at least damage the Empire, or waiting for him.
You did, however, feel eyes on you. Part of you didn’t want to look, but that part of you that did – the part of you that hoped – encouraged you to do so. Stars you were glad you did.
Howzer was right there, approaching you with his cup in hand. Amber eyes were glad to see you, his smile relieved, and even if you had any restraint at the sight of him you wouldn’t have used it. Your lips quirked up into the largest smile you had shared in months, and all you could do to keep some semblance of composure was to rush into him. It may have nearly knocked the cup out of his hand, but neither of you cared.
You thought you had thrown your arms around his shoulders and clung to him like a vice, but his free arm pressed you so close you could feel the outlines of muscles through his prison clothes. You hadn’t held him often without his armour on – it would risk too much attention – but you had held him without the plate long enough to know he felt thinner despite the strength he still held.
If seeing him hadn’t made your vision turn blurry, knowing he wasn’t looked after certainly did.
“Howzer?” He hummed. “Is it really you?”
“I said I wanted to see you again, cyar’ika.”
The way it rolled off his tongue like a sacred verse struck a chord within you like a harmony, beautiful and peaceful – sometimes ethereal. You buried your face within his neck, inhaling him. He did the same to you. His breath tickled your neck.
You held him tighter in relief.
You were vaguely aware of other clones watching. You were almost considering letting go, but when your hold began to loosen, his tightened.
“Don’t let go, Mesh’la.” He pressed his nose against your neck.”Please… Don’t let go…”
You didn’t.
Your grasp tightened at his whispered plead.
At some point, you allowed him to guide you backwards into the crates you had been working at – weapons mostly – so he could put his cup down and encompass you in his embrace. Solid. True. Honest. Just as he was.
Always how he was.
“Why didn’t you fight them?” Your words were a whisper themself. “We could have gotten you to safety.”
“We were more likely to have been killed, or prevent you from having an unnoticed escape.” Howzer pulled his head back enough to rest his forehead against yours with a small, languid sigh. “I knew the risks. I knew I had to take them to give you and the Syndullas the time, and freedom, to escape.”
“I thought about you every day.” Your hands moved to his shoulders. The part of you that was still angry with him for making the call wanted to shove him until you were a crying mess in his arms, but you couldn’t. The bite wasn’t there. There was no energy to be angry.
You were just glad he was in front of you.
“I thought about you, too. Every day.” His palms were warm on your cheeks. “I thought about your laugh. The way you frown.” Roughened fingertips traced your skin, swiping away silent tears that fell as he spoke with a smile and eyes that never stopped blinking away his own silent rivers. “Your dimples when we smile.” That got a small laugh from you. “Maker, I love your smile.”
You laughed again. “I thought they killed you or something in prison, and all you do is compliment my smile?” You wanted your words to have a snap, but it was too him to be mad enough. “You kissed me senseless, stole my breath and heartbeats, and then forced me to leave you and didn’t turn until you knew I was safe –” the bite returned slowly.
“I thought you were dead, Howzer. Imprisoned clones are never seen again. Everywhere I went, I looked for you – scanned for you – and whenever I closed my eyes, I just saw how small you looked, watching me leave. All I could see was you looking at me but I was unable to read your expression. I watched you until I couldn’t see you anymore. And all you can do is…. Is tell me you love my –”
Your breath was stolen. Your words silenced. Your lips captured firmly in restraint, but longing in his tenderness. Howzer cradled the back of your head, his palm curving to follow the curve of the base of your skull and song your neck, his fingers spayed, with the same gentleness. The same solid sensation as being against him. There but not pressured. There but without force.
Your moment of shocked rigidity melted into him. Your hands traced his neck before your right settled on his cheek, following the roughened skin of the scar you loved, and your left found the longest strands of his hair. The soft sensation brushed against your palms; the slight tug from knots made him groan faintly into your mouth as he switched angles and pressed you further against the crate until you were forced to sit on it.
Whistling Clones (which were very swiftly silenced with a bonk, probably to their heads, and ushered away) did not dissuade him from taking his time, less desperate to breathe his love into you than he first (and last) time he had kissed you. Back then, it was desperate; he knew it was a high chance it would be the last time he could. Now he was languid, mapping you, but no less ardent.
No less passionate.
No less desperate.
Howzer parted his lips from yours to allow you both to breathe. His forehead returned to yours, his nose brushing yours in a butterfly kiss of relief.
“I love you, Cyar’ika.” His words were spoken between a pant. “More than I was ever allowed to before now.”
“I love you, too.” Yours were also affected by your seeking of oxygen. “Stay with me?”
“Forever.”
Tagging: @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat and the Howzer fans @clonethirstingisreal and @freesia-writes <3333
This is Carol (@clonethirstingisreal) - I can't ask from that account, hence the anon ask.
I saw your request for a first kiss prompt...
I'd love practically anything with Howzer!
Here are some options, but really whatever you would enjoy writing the most is what I'd like:
In my mind Howzer would be a little awkward at the beginning due to inexperience.
maybe one is awkward enough to the point where they're like "what the hell do i do with my hands?!" (picturing that with Howzer being the awkward one...maybe that could be combined with the hands on the waist...like they move his hand or hands to their waist when it's obvious he hasn't a clue where to put them...I don't know, I'm just spitballin' here.)
or
the uncontrollable smile they break into either after or during the kiss itself
or
awkward giggles right after
Honestly, whatever you want to write with Howzer would be fantastic! And only if you're feeling it. Absolutely no pressure!!!
Hello there @clonethirstingisreal! I thank you for sending these in! I went for What the hell I do with my hands!? ! It was truly calling for me anyway, and I had the most perfect idea! Howzer also misbehaved but not by not wanting to be written like Fives. No! HE WANTED TO BREAK CONTAINMENT!
the rex esque boys really like doing that huh
Pairing: Howzer x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff/First Kiss
Words: 2,100
Warnings: None
Setting: Early S3 of The Clone Wars
Characters Mentioned: Suarve (OC), Damnata (OC)
Notes: Howzer is such a cutie awkward bean here! But also very Howzer! I think!?
Reminder I'm no longer cross posting to AO3 for now.
Tag List Form
Masterlists: x reader, oc x canon , 210th Squad (plus OC x OC) Summary: Howzer just wants to see you when he's come back from a mission. You spot him.
Reblogs and comments make the world go round! Don't feed to AI. Don't post to other platforms or copy and paste to your own blog, just reblog if you want it on your blog. The only characters that are mine are OCs in this fic. Don't feel the need to skip ahead in tbr lists, I'm sure there are fics worth so much more time o read and hav been waiting longer <3 I think that's it!
Howzer leaned against the door frame. His arms were folded nonchalantly and his left leg crossed over his right casually. He, to anyone else, would have worn a blank expression, just staring at a wall. But his expression wasn’t blank, although slight, and he was not staring at a wall.
He wasn’t staring at all.
Instead, he was watching you. Thinking. Hoping, in some ways, that you would notice him to put him out of his misery of internal bickering: does he alert you to his presence? Of course, he should. That’s polite. But does he clear his throat? Does he speak? Does he approach quietly? With you so busy with the analysis of fauna and robolotomy tasks, it would be rude to interrupt. Unlike his brothers, who were always aware, he wasn’t sure how aware you were. He didn’t want to scare you…
He could always come back in a few minutes. Or an hour? Right? You’d finish eventually, and as much as he wanted to hear your voice, as wonderful as it was he would hear it again soon. It was the most polite thing to do, in case you saw him looking at you with wondrous fondness.
Howzer lowered his arms and turned his back as he began to walk away.
Yes, he thought, I’ll hear you later.
“Howzer?”
Kriff. He stilled. His eyes were wide enough that he was glad he wasn’t facing you because he was certain he would end up with a raging blush if you saw. It was commonplace for him now to know he would. He’d catch himself watching you laugh or trying to hide a giggle, and he’d go red-faced. He’d catch you trying to hide your own staring gaze at him and try to hide, with a clear of the throat and a sip of water, when he caught you. He’d find himself locked in a small moment where gazes met, his breath caught in his throat, and feel such a deep connection with you he’d need a moment to refocus.
Lieutenant Damnata seemed to find it worthy of a gentle tease. Suarve may have dropped it before Howzer was promoted to Captain; when he was trying not to aggravate fresh burns after blowing up something or other to defend the base from a Sepperatist ambush (though his memory was still fuzzy). And you…
You have acted differently since. And not in a bad way.
“Sir?”
Realising where he was, he cleared his throat, took a breath to return to hiding, and turned to face you with a familiar, friendly smile. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“You didn’t.” Your smile was… wider towards him since then. Or, well, maybe not wider per se, but… relieved? Yes… Relieved. You had seemed reasonably glad he survived his near sacrifice, which he was surprised at. Well, he wasn’t because you were always relieved when someone survived, but he was because… most civilians from Coruscant he had heard about frankly… didn’t.
He had half expected the relief to go by now, but it never left. And it had been two months.
“I… didn’t?” He cleared his throat again and his back straightened unnaturally. Too straight! “I mean,” he forced himself to relax, “I’m glad. That I didn’t.”
You laughed. Well, more of a giggle, really, but he enjoyed it. He loved it, actually… It wasn’t like he, as a clone, was allowed to love much at all aside from his brothers. But he could openly love your laugh. He could openly love your smile. He could openly love things about you…
Just not you.
And he wanted to.
You gestured him into the room with a tilt of your head, and Howzer was more than willing to.
“I’m late for supper again, I know, but you normally don’t come to find me personally.” Howzer didn’t reply at first. To think that you thought he only came to you when you were late for something made his brows furrow and pinch together softly in concern and faint hurt. “You… did come here to make sure I still lived, right?”
“That wasn’t the main reason, no…” He spoke slowly on purpose, careful and steady. Thinking as he let them leave him. “I haven’t seen you in a few days, and couldn’t comm you behind enemy lines.”
You wore your surprise well, and then you cursed under your breath. “You came back today?”
Howzer laughed to hide the wryness of mirth. The question, he understood, wasn’t supposed to sound annoyed at him. “Apparently so. If my presence here means what I think it does.”
He may have been a clone, and he may not be an ALPHA, but he wasn’t an idiot. He had noticed that, whilst he chose to stand with some distance between the two of you (not enough to be distant, just enough to be seen as friendly or casual), you had closed it. When he chose to sneak glances at you after catching you staring, he saw the redness on his cheeks. And sometimes, he was positive you were flirting with him.
But he wasn’t arrogant enough to assume you were, either, and neither asked if you were or responded as if you were. Perhaps it made people think him oblivious, but he wasn’t.
On the contrary.
“I’m sorry, Howzer.” You were also the only civilian working in the GAR who dropped his rank, intentional or not, when he wasn’t giving you orders. “I planned to see you, but I must have been so caught up with trying to get these reports and experiments up and running that I–”
“It’s alright, mesh’la.” The term of endearment came from his lips without warning, so used to calling you that in his own mind, and he internally hoped it went unnoticed. But, judging by your confusion it… had not. “I arrived within the last hour.”
It was less than that. Fifteen minutes at least – twenty at most. He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to seem desperate, or risk your job, or risk letting his brothers down, or–
“What’s it mean?” Howzer hummed in surprised at your question. You looked at him, and by the force he thought your expression, the way your brows lightly pinched at the front in thought, was so endearing he almost forgot he was supposed to be listening. “Mesh’la.”
He hoped you hadn’t that. As always, when it came to you, however, you noticed the things he didn’t want to be noticed.
He felt his cheeks warm. “It means ‘beautiful’...”
Howzer expected you to run. It would be smarter to do that. Instead, you title your head toward your shoulder with a playful, but bashful, smile. “And you… called me beautiful?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze to one side shyly. “I don’t… I don’t see anyone other than you in here to call that. And even if there was, you would – I would…. I’d still…” He closed his left eye to cringe at how his words came “I’d still only call you beautiful because you are. To me. I mean, you’re beautiful me. To me” You startled to giggle the way he liked, “I was meant to say… Um…”
He blinked at you and smiled at the way your eyes met his with nothing but an affection that made his knees want to perish. He enjoyed it when you laughed or smiled at something he said, though to have it at his expense was… both embarrassing and somehow relieving.
He supposed, in many ways, the relief came from loving you in just as many forms. But the one he loved you most as, he could not have you with.
And, well, you looked bashful, too. As much as he felt. That helped. He guessed.
It was new to him. All of these things. They’d been ensnaring him for months, but it was still the first time he had loved someone the way he loved you. Maybe if he was allowed to be a child, with parents that loved him, he would have done. Maybe, if he weren’t a soldier on the front lines and just a mechanic in the hangars, he would have done. But then… he wouldn’t have met you. And he wouldn’t love you. It would be another Howzer. A different Howzer. And if he wasn’t on Ryloth and instead a mechanic, his name wouldn’t be Howzer at all.
Maybe it would be Tongs, or Solder, or something, and he wouldn’t have the same personality.
And that terrified him.
Here, he was Howzer. He was himself. And you were reflected in his eyes; your concern and worry, and the way you held his cheeks after he was bandaged, were in his memory. Not in another Howzer’s.
“You really think that I’m beautiful?”
“Yes.” He replied without hesitation. “I do. Deeply.”
You hummed in thought, tilted your head, and then you half smirked but not with confidence, more… courage. “Is there a word for handsome in Mando’a?”
“No. Not that we were ever made aware of.” He watched you come closer. Saliva built in his throat as his nerves grew. He cleared his throat, swallowed thickly, and tried his best to ignore the heat that spread across his face and back. “I’ve not seen it in any dictionaries when I was learning, but… we.. um..” His eyes went wide as your hands worked up his chest plate, not minding the grime of the last few days. “We weren’t taught above love, as soldiers and…”
Your fingertips were warm on his jaw, tracing the outline of his healed scars. Howzer’s words died in his throat, replaced by silence of thought except for your touch on his skin and how you were so close to him he almost forgot his lungs existed.
Force he didn’t want your hand to leave.
“Mesh’la.” You whispered softly, testing out the sound.
“Huh?”
“You. You’re mesh’la to me, too.” His eyes shot wide and your hands moved to his cheeks. “And, no, your brothers don’t look as charming as you.”
Howzer allowed his face to relax, but he couldn’t help but not believe your words. Afterall, he was…
He was fodder.
“There’s Commander Cody of the 212th. Everyone likes him.” His eyes looked to the wall. “ And Captain Rex, he’s oblivious to the attention. Fox and Wolffe are two–”
You pressed an index finger to his lips to quiet him. To force him to look at you. ”Howzer,” his heart pounded so loudly within his chest the only thing blocking it from you was his battle-scarred armour, for your breath grazed his lips so sweetly as you spoke his name his back shivered. “They’re not you.”
Howzer had no time to say anything before he felt your lips against his. His eyes were wide and all thoughts ran from his mind in favour of momentary confusion, where he did not realise you were kissing him whilst knowing you were. A moment of not knowing how to respond before, slowly, allowing his eyes to close and follow his movements.
His arms hung at his sides, stiff and uncertain, there but wanting to move without knowing where or how. What was right or wrong. What was polite or not. He knew he wanted to cup your face the way you were holding his. He knew he wanted to pull you close. He knew he wanted to cradle your jaw and feel your heat beating like his was. But did you want him to? Was that a step too far?
Of course, kissing you back was a step too far according to regs. But was having his hands all on you the way they wanted to, mapping you and holding you and visibly making himself a willing and ardent participant, a step too far?
What do I do with my hands? The question persisted in his thoughts, but you knew what you wanted.
You knew you wanted his hands.
When you took his, he was momentarily saddened to feel your hands gone from his cheeks. But the moment your fingers curved around the sides of his hands and pulled them to your waist, Howzer sighed through his nose: a release of nerves he did not realise he held.
He held you tighter. He pulled you closer. He parted from your lips for but a moment to take a breath before returning to your lips, more aware and confident in his yearning, and allowed himself to fall into the hands of risk and fate.
Summary: How does Hera manage to escape Ryloth? As Howzer, Hera, and Chopper run from Imperial forces, they meet a mysterious bounty hunter in Mandalorian armor flying a familiar ship.
Pairing: Howzer x trans man/transmasc!Reader
Reader Description: Reader is afab, uses he/him pronouns, and is poc. He is a bounty hunter who wears Mandalorian armor. Later chapters may include descriptions of physical appearance.
Word count: 270 words
Warning: Mentions of violence, swearing
Tags: Slow burn, Found family
Notes: There isn’t much of the reader in this chapter since this is more of an intro. I might as well make this an oc fic, but let’s see how this goes as a reader fic. Also, no promises I’ll finish this or be consistent. This is my first reader fic, so please do send any feedback/comments/thoughts my way!
The blasts from the tank exploded upon contact with the cliffside over Hera and Howzer’s heads. The ground beneath them shook as boulders began to tumble down. Chopper angrily whirred a string of curses in binary and ran ahead of the two.
“Run!” Howzer pushed Hera forward and she eagerly obeyed. Once the three of them were at a safe distance, Howzer instinctively threw himself over the child and her droid until the rocks settled behind them. That’s when they heard the buzz and clanks of their pursuers making their way through the rubble.
Howzer slowly stood. He put his helmet back on and aimed his blaster at the shaking debris. Hera noticed the slight tremble in his grip. “Chopper, when I give you the signal, you take Hera and run, okay?”
“No, I’m not leaving you, Howzer!” Hera replied defiantly.
“Hera.” His voice audibly cracked under his helmet. “Please, you have to—”
Howzer was interrupted by the roar of an approaching ship. The light freighter dipped down into the canyon, hovering right in front of the three. As the ramp opened you calmly walked down, with only the outline of your Mandalorian armor visible against the backlight of the cargo hold. Your relaxed body language indicated a complete lack of concern with the situation. You seemed unfazed even as the Imperial forces began blasting through the rock.
“—Hera Syndulla?” You yelled over the engine’s roar. She nodded. “Come with me.” You turned and began to walk back up the ramp.
“Wait!” She yelled back, “who are you?”
Still walking, you replied almost to yourself, “Someone Cham now owes a big fucking favor.”
Howzer sighed. He looked back at the rubble, then nodded at Hera. The three boarded.
