#howzer and you

[dragonrider9905]

Can you pleaaaaaaase do a Howzer x Female Medic!reader with the prompt 36 😭

I need some good angst in my life. I feel like maybe they’ve both known each other for ever but don’t actually confess until it’s a life or death situation and Howzer has to get the gal to leave against her will to protect her 🥹🥲

it can end in death if you want ☠️

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh @carolinetano7567 dear, be very very careful what you ask for ;D You may end up hating me after this XD

Please don't ;D I love you Caroline! XD Can even end in death? ohhhh girl don't tempt me because you know what you'll get? And with sweet Howzer too? ohhh noooo!

I hope you like it!!!! After reading your request I had to think hard but then the idea struck and boom, the angsty angst train arrived. One serving of angst coming right up! Hope you enjoy this :D Thank you SO much for dropping in the request <3 Love you girl!!!!!

36. "I can't leave you here!" "You can and you will!"

Night Reveals All Regrets

Prompt List

Celebrating You Masterlist

Summery: The battle of Teth was bloody. Then Lieutenant Howzer and his favorite medic are caught up in the middle of it. It's time to face how you feel about each other before it's too late. Warning: Angst, no comfort; major character death

You were surrounded. You could feel the heat of the blaster bolts as they flew by, searing everything in it's path. Lieutenant Howzer stood back to back with you as the great battle of Teth reigned chaotically around you. Serving under the great Captain Rex, Howzer was rising quickly through the ranks for his heroics. This was one of the bloodiest battles yet, and Rex already lost a lot of good men.

Your company was sent up ahead to scout and report back about Separatist movement, but ended up getting caught in a surprise attack. The firefight was fierce and the men you served with were dropping all around you.

"You need to get out of here!" Howzer shouted above the din, shooting from double blasters as droids made their way toward you.

"No, I'm not leaving you!" you responded, defiantly, voice scratchy with emotion and dust.

"GO!"

"I can't leave you here!"

"You can and you will!"

"If you don't make it out of here, I don't want to either!"

At your words, Howzer spun around and grabbed you by the shoulders.

"I'd rather it be me than you. You deserve a chance at a life. That's what I was made for..." he paused, "and that's what my heart was destined for."

Your jaw dropped.

"Howzer..."

"Hey, in case we don't make it out of this, I need you to know."

Spinning you around, wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, he shot at more advancing droids. He kicked your legs from under you into a controlled roll.

His strong arms encircled you and forced you along until you came to a fallen tree. He knelt and helped you to his level. He didn't remove his hands from your shoulders, steadying you from the dizzy action or perhaps grounding himself for what he was to say--you weren't sure which.

"Firstly, I'm so sorry for our argument. It was dumb. I don't like not talking. Please, forgive me."

You placed your hand on Howzer's helmet where his cheek would be.

"Of course I do."

He sighed in relief.

"Secondly but more importantly...I love you. If we make it out of this, would you marry me?"

Shock passed through your eyes, then disbelief. You squinted, leaning in closer to see if he was serious.

"You're ... not joking?"

"No." He squeezed your arms. "I'm not."

"Then yes, my answer is yes!" You smiled and hugged him, tears streaming from your eyes.

"Just promise me you'll make it out of this?" Howzer said, "No matter what. I need you alive and happy."

You swallowed hard, looking down as the world stood still. When you looked up, you looked directly into his eyes with a hauntingly knowing expression.

"I can't promise you that. You know why."

Your words echoed in his ears in the loud silence, rippling in resounding waves through his mind.

Before Howzer could respond, a blaster bolt ripped through his shoulder. The wound seared with firey pain and a scream burst from his lips.

"Howzer!"

You caught him as he fell forward but another one made impact on his back.

"No!"

Tears ran from your eyes as you helped him to the ground. You rummaged through your bag, tearing through things to get to what you needed, dumping supplies all around the ground in scattered fragments.

"No no no no!" A sob burst from your mouth. You brought your hand up to your mouth as if that'd be some comfort to you, blocking out what was happening in front of you.

"Hey, hey, it's ok." With a cough, Howzer spit up some blood. His hand searched for yours. You grabbed it firmly, stroking his face with the other. You cradled him closely to your chest, trying and failing not to cry.

He was surprisingly calm. He was happy. The pain was a little uncomfortable, but you were here and that's all that mattered to him.

A light shown around your head as he looked up at you, tears falling from your face to his. You started to sing a lullaby, the tune was one he was familiar with, slow and ethereal, but he couldn't make out the words you sang. Your voice seemed distant and echoey.

His focus shifted, and he felt light and willowing, like was floating in the air and drifting in a fast river.

At some point, he started coughing as his lungs closed in on themselves and the singing stopped. Instead, you clutched hard to him, begging him to stay with you just a while longer. You lifted him slightly, hoping he could breathe a little easier.

The floating sensation left, and was replaced with the imminent feeling of your sadness. Your eyes were glassy, and pain was written all over your face.

The yellow light still shone around your head, but the wind shifted and the feeling of warmth faded. When you opened your mouth, his peace left, dread and foreboding took it's place.

"It's not your time yet. I'll wait, I promise. But take your time, love. I miss you, and I love you too."

A shadow passed over you, and the concern and worry which were present in all your movements melted into a relaxed unconcern. All jagged movements melted away. Your ministrations turned sprite eerie, easy motions. The fear in your eyes turned devoid, replaced with an empty nothing. Your lips once pressed, now split into a wide smile.

Placing your hand on his cheek, your touch was soft, but cold; your voice gentle and sweet, like how it always was on a summer afternoon hidden away in secret.

"Howzer, wake up."

Howzer jolted awake, for the hundred-thousandth time, body soaked in sweat and panting from an exhaustion from an exertion he experienced every night in his dreams. But no matter how many times he dreamed it, no matter how many different forms it took, it always ended the same.

How he wished it would have happened.

Teth happened a year ago.

And nothing was as it should be.

There was no confession of love between you.

You never had time to make up for the argument you had. He couldn't to this day even remember what it was about, only that you were mad at each other and weren't on speaking terms.

Worse of all, he hadn't even been there when it happened--he'd read the report so many times, he could insert himself into the scenario and his dreams at night haunted his 'what-if's the day presented and re-ran through his mind.

There was no escape during the waking or the sleeping hours. All he could think about was you.

And how he failed.

You died never truly knowing how he felt about you. You died alone. You died with a misunderstanding forever hanging in the air between you and now no chance of ever clearing it or understanding each other.

You died without him ever asking the one question he would die a thousand deaths to ask.

Why did he ever let you out of his sight?

"We've secured the area for the moment, Lieutenant." One of the troopers under his command approached him. He gave Howzer a sour, sad look. "The surprise attack was bad. The company is all gone."

"What do you mean gone?" Howzer nearly shouted back. He tried to control himself but his heart started to pound against his chest.

Everyone knew that you and Howzer were close. No one knew the correct name to label your relationship, but it was undeniable that you two were inseparable and shared a special bond. Being the medic of his unit, you became the little sister of the group. Everyone loved and respected you, especially him.

"Fireball, what happened, tell me."

"I found her. She's gone."

Time froze and everything around him blurred. The floor felt like it was being ripped from under him. His stomach churned and threatened to give up what little it contained in a biting, rancid taste of acid. Urgency overtook him and the adrenaline rush caused the world to spin.

He had planned on talking to you and apologizing after the day's battle was done. When the advancing company asked for volunteers, you hadn't hesitated. It only took moments before his own company was caught in a firefight--a surprise attack of its own to handle. He fought long and hard in his zone and seeing how many brothers fell, made him realize he needed to talk to you. There was so much to say and in your line of duty, anything was possible. He vowed if he made it out, he'd tell you everything and make up for the foul up. If it hadn't been for the surprise attack, perhaps he'd have caught up with the second company in time. Those few seconds were a wasted, precious few seconds.

Lightyears and pain both traveled at the same speed, Howzer decided, and life was too short to let things go unsaid. In war, even shorter.

Howzer didn't remember when he started running but he was. He had to find you. See you for himself. He didn't even wait for Fireball to direct him to your place of rest. The pounding of his heart made him deaf and dumb.

Frantically turning his head and dodging in every direction with no thought of safety he searched the bodies littered on the ground. His brothers were everywhere. By each clone were ten droids. They'd fought valiantly and fallen with honor.

When he found your body, you were laying in a crumpled heap in the center of the men, covered in blaster bolts. Of course it took more than one to take you down. You were too stubborn to die from just one. They must have circled around you to protect you as long as they could, and yet, that wasn't enough. There were still more droids littered around the ground by you. He would have been proud, if he wasn't so overtaken by grief.

Trembling with shock, Howzer gently, he took your body in his arms and cradled you, rocking back and forth. He removed your helmet and his, resting them side by side. At least your face was free of pain, but it's pale beauty was empty of life. The flame in your eyes would never dance again.

"Cyare? Cyare, wake up. Wake up, please, don't go...don't go." With the back of his hand, he stroked your cheek which was somehow blurring and getting wet with little drops. He ran his fingers through your tangled hair and begged some sign of lift to show from the still form.

"Please, there's something I need you to know. There's something I have to tell you."

He didn't notice his brothers come up behind him, removing their helmets in silent respect. Nor did he see their own quiet grief at witnessing such a loss.

"Please, I love you, come back. Come back..."

"Stay with me, marry me, be my wife..."

"Forgive me...for everything."

Would you be alive if he'd been by your side? He would have taken your place in an instant. Could you both have had a future if perhaps you'd decided not to push forward with the company? What if you'd never argued? What if he told you how he really felt? What if he had gotten there sooner? Would he have been in time to save you? Even prevent you from being shot?

Would things be different?

Or would they have always ended this way, the same?

Hanging his head, he allowed the tears to flow. The night knew his secret regrets of the heart all too well. They surrounded him and offered the little comfort of their light best they could. Their light, which was a reflection of yours. Their warmth, only a fraction of the flame of your own.

The sun would never know his sadness. The stars were his only witnesses to grief, and the pale reminder of who you were. Perhaps they were telling him you weren't gone, but waiting for him like the dream said, but he couldn't understand their language.

Hanging his head, he cried.

What could have been if only one factor was different?

He'd never know.

Dividers by @djarrex

[cabbagege]

He made another mistake

[rex-meshla]

Clones I wish got more attention in fanfiction...

Captain Howzer | Commander Keeli | Commander Bly | Commander Colt

*btw, you can find my Howzer and Colt fics here x

[secretly-a-trekkie]

random howzer sketch bc i felt like it

[maisy7567]

Happy May 4th everyone! Have all the clone boys I’ve drawn (outside CF99).

I really wished we saw more of specific squads. 10-20 secs of screentime for Delta squad was not even enough and don’t get me started on how dirty they did Rancor Battalion in canon (don’t worry they all survived the attack on Kamino w/ 99–I’m working on a fic of that rn).

May the Force be with you always and have a happy Star Wars day all!💙

[dindjarindiaries]

Captain Howzer? More like Captain YOWZERRR

[arliganzey]

[twinsunstars]

some of the bad batch cast and what donut i think they would be and like:

Hunter - Sugar donut (keeping it simple and sweet)

Wrecker - Chocolate sprinkle donut (he absolutely LOVES anything with sprinkles and chocolate)

Tech - Old fashioned donut (he likes the glazed ones the most)

Crosshair - Cronut (since its a donut and a croissant combined, I thought it would be fitting for him)

Echo - Glazed donut (one of his comfort foods)

Omega - Cake donuts (she would love these, especially the double chocolate ones with sprinkles)

Rex - Jelly donut (I think he would like these with some sprinkled sugar and strawberry filling)

Howzer - Maple bar donut (he seems like someone who would have a sweet tooth, and really likes maple)

Emerie - Strawberry frosted sprinkle donut (I feel like she would love anything strawberry)

Hemlock: Donut holes (you know, because he got blasted multiple times)

[ct7567329]

You Between Us ~ Rex and Howzer x Fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: You used to be a General in the GAR. Instead of fighting along side Howzer and the rest of your battalion, or joining Anakin and the 501st for a mission, you now live an isolated life on Takodana. An unexpected request for assistance from Rex and Howzer leads to more than any of you three could have anticipated. NO CLONECEST!!!!! Word Count: 6k Warnings: alcohol consumption, f/m/m threesome (18+ pls, the goal was for this to be filthy), brief mention of drug/substance use (literally only one line), little angsty bc post Order 66, NO CLONECEST, Howzer is a little possessive of his general, fluff A/N: so get this, i wrote almost this whole thing then it randomly vanished. i feel like the original version was better and i want to SOB but oh well. here's to everyone who wishes they could live out their wildest dreams with Howzer and Rex.

The golden haze of the Takodana sunset cast long shadows over the forest and along the edge of your hidden homestead. A cool breeze rustled the leaves, but inside the stone cottage, warmth glowed from a crackling fire, soft lights, and the forgotten, quiet holoprojector casting a boloball match. You hadn’t seen Rex in almost a year. As for Howzer, it's been longer. Yet here they were, armor scuffed and helmets off, each settling down on two futons facing each other, a low table separating them.

You rested on the third couch that boxed in the table, looking up at the boloball match across the room.

"Maker," Rex exhaled, reaching forward and holding a bottle of Corellian whiskey up to the light, "You’ve been hoarding the good stuff out here, huh?"

You smirked, picking up and swirling your own glass, "Perks of not being on the run every minute of the day. It's hard to maintain the mainstream liquor when you're dodging Imperial patrols."

Howzer chuckled, the sound low and familiar. He hadn’t changed much. The streak of gray in his hair was new, and the haunted look in his eyes hadn’t been there during the war. But his voice still hit like home, "I still don’t know how you managed to stay off their radar. Takodana isn’t exactly Outer Rim, middle of nowhere, wasteland."

You shrugged, leaning back into the cushions, "That's kind of the point. There's also plenty of ruins around here to hide in. Oh, and I’ve had help."

Rex shot you a knowing look. “You still have those old Republic sensors buried around the perimeter?”

“I upgraded them last year. You two actually tripped half my alerts on the way in.”

Howzer winced, “Damn. I thought I was being stealthy.”

You all laughed and it felt natural. Comfortable even. Like the galaxy wasn’t burning down around you.

Rex leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Still. You didn’t have to say yes. I know calling you into this mess puts a target on your back.”

You met his gaze, “You were always the responsible one.”

He chuckled, "You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t serious.”

He looked down at his drink, swirling it once before meeting your eyes again. “It is. The Clone Underground’s doing more than just hiding deserters now. We’re organizing larger operations. Rescuing others. We’ve got a network from Lothal to Tatooine now. But we’re stretched thin. We need safe houses. Supplies. Tactical minds.”

Howzer raised his glass toward you with a crooked smile, “That’s where you come in, General.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t call me that.”

“You’ll always be General to me.”

A brief silence fell, heavy with memory of your days in the field with the boys. The desperate sieges. The narrow escapes. Everything. But especially the way Howzer had stood at your side through it all, unwavering, even when the tide of the war turned dark.

And then came Order 66.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “I’m not the person I was during the war. I’m not even sure I want to be.”

Rex spoke gently, "None of us are. That’s not what this is about. We don’t need a Jedi. We need you. ”

You exhaled slowly, “For you boys, anything. I’m in.”

Rex smiled, and Howzer raised his glass in salute.

“Then let’s drink,” you said, lifting your own.

“To old friends,” Rex cheered.

“To rebellion,” Howzer added.

You smiled, “To surviving.”

The glasses clinked together with a soft chime, fire cracking in the background.

With the bottle nearly empty and laughter echoing through the room, the memories started pouring out.

"You remember the rain mission on Kampeera?" Howzer grinned, pouring another round, "The one where our transport skidded into that swamp and sunk nose-first?"

You laughed, “You skidded into that swamp. I told you the terrain was unstable.”

“You said ‘watch your approach.’ Not ‘don’t land.’”

Rex smirked, “I remember hearing about that one. The whole battalion smelled like bog rot for a week.”

Howzer raised his eyebrows, “You smelled like that longer, if I recall.”

You were laughing so hard you nearly spilled your drink, “It took days to get the mud out of my armor. And don’t think I didn’t notice you hiding in the med tent to avoid debrief.”

“I was injured!”

“Please! You had a sprained ankle!”

Rex leaned back, smiling wistfully, "It’s strange, you know? Talking about those days like they were good times. They shouldn’t have been. We lost too much.”

Your smile faltered, “But they were real. We were real. And we had each other.”

Silence fell again, heavier this time.

Rex stared into his glass, “I still remember the day I got the call from Howzer. Said something was wrong. That Fives—”

“Don’t,” Howzer's voice was quiet, the usual calm in his tone gone, “I still have nightmares about it.”

You watched him carefully, " But you resisted when the order came.”

He didn’t look at you, “Barely. Long enough to warn my men to stand down. Long enough to let you escape.”

Rex looked between you two, "You never told me that.”

Howzer’s jaw tightened, "I didn’t want to admit I almost failed. That I almost-" he finally looked at you, pain flickering behind his eyes, “I almost killed you.”

You reached towards him, placing a hand over his, “But you didn’t. That's what matters.”

Rex leaned forward, “We all have ghosts. But we can’t let them define us. That’s why we fight. Not to fix the past. But to make sure the future’s better.”

You nodded slowly, “Exactly! So how can I help you two?”

Rex hesitated, then took another long drink before answering, "Access codes. Supply runs. Intelligence from the inside.”

You raised an eyebrow, “You think I still have contacts?”

Howzer met your gaze, “You used to have a friend in the Senate, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard, “I-, That was a long time ago.”

Rex looked at you, eyes sharp now, “Are still alive?”

You sighed and rubbed at your temple, "Not exactly. Not in the way you remember.”

Howzer frowned, "What does that mean?”

"Senator Bail Organa of Alerdaan. He was always sympathetic to the Jedi and fiercely loyal to the Republic, but not to the politics. He actually helped me disappear here after the Jedi fell.”

Rex perked up, "Could he get us access to the location of clone prisons? Maybe find out where the Empire’s holding deserters?”

“Maybe,” you replied, crossing your arms, “But he’ll want proof you're worth trusting."

A new bottle was opened. The liquor was now a dark spiced rum smuggled from Ryloth. The warmth was more intense than the whiskey, sinking deep into your bones as the hours slipped away.

Howzer was fully relaxed now, his legs stretched out on the couch and his armor piled beside the end table in a neat stack. Rex's lower armor remained on, one leg cross over his thigh and his drink cradled loosely in one hand. You sat curled on the sofa, legs tucked beneath you, Howzer still on a separate couch to your left with Rex on the other to your right. The three of you faced the liquor bottle littered coffee table in the center of the small room.

The mood had shifted. The lightness of earlier now gave way to something more reflective. More intimate.

“You know,” Rex said slowly, topping off his glass, “you were always one of the few Jedi we actually liked.”

You raised an eyebrow, "Liked?”

He smirked, lazily waving his free hand in figure eights, “Respected. Trusted. Enjoyed. All that.”

Howzer nodded in agreement, “Most of the Jedi were distant and too caught up in rules. You actually encouraged us to have fun.”

You snorted, “I was constantly breaking the rules. I'm pretty sure the Council was one more infraction away from exiling me.”

“And we loved you for that,” Howzer retorted, gaze catching yours with something unspoken behind it.

Your heart beat a little faster as you looked at your glass, trying to laugh it off, “Well, someone had to keep you boys entertained.”

The moment didn’t break.

Howzer’s voice dropped, “I remember the last mission. Before the war ended. You kissed me good luck before we jumped into that canyon on Altirax.”

You froze.

Rex blinked, looking between you. “Wait, what?!”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “You weren’t supposed to remember that, Howzer!"

Howzer’s voice was teasing now. “Hard to forget when it’s the last thing you do before nearly dying.”

Rex choked on his drink, “You two were-”

“No,” you cut him off, “Besides, if giving him a quick peck while on the brink of death was the worst thing I did during my time as a Jedi, I'm sure the Council would have been thrilled.”

Howzer pressed his lips together, ignoring the smug smirk on Rex's face. “Well, this just got more interesting," Rex mumbled against his glass.

“And you’re drunk,” you playfully sing, briefly pointing your finger at Rex.

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but you can't make a statement like that then not tell us what worse things you did.”

You stared into the fire, feeling both their gazes locked onto you, "I forgot."

Howzer scoffed, “Coward.”

“Tactical retreat,” you winked back, taking a slow sip of your drink, "I'd hate to be the one to expose your innocent minds to my pre-trial shenanigans."

Rex peered at you from over his glass, "Are you suggesting we can't handle it?"

You shook your head, crossing your leg over your lap before lowering your voice slightly, speaking in a more flirtatious tone. A tell tale sign the alcohol is now completely to your head, "No. I'm suggesting I've got to keep some personal mysteries," you extended your arm out slightly, looking at your nails you painted earlier in the day before continuing, "like all the clubbing, death sticks, the threesome, sneaking alcohol into the temple, the street drugs from the lower levels."

You stopped, still looking at your hand, "but I suppose death sticks and street drugs could be the same-"

Rex and Howzer were gawking at you. Hard.

"Yes?" You questioned, casually topping off your drink.

Howzer and Rex darted glances between each other and you for a few moments, silently deciding who would could put words together first.

Rex took a long sip from his glass, his throat bobbing as his swallowed, "From a younger you, yeah, I could see most it," he huffed, tilting his drink to you, "the threesome though," he took another sip, "I wouldn't have guessed that one."

A deep laugh bubbled from your chest, "Hey, we were just curious young Jedi messing around with each other before trials before we were forced to swear to a life of celibacy."

Howzer nearly choked on his drink, "It was with other Jedi?! Please tell me Rex and I know-"

"Nope! Don't even think about it," you answered, crossing your arm across your chest, "Sworn to secrecy." You held back a grin, imagining how Rex would feel if he knew of your fooling around with Anakin back in the day. "Besides," you flicked your wrist, "it was horrible."

"Jedi having no game? Tell us something we don't know," Howzer sarcastic snorted, just barely over a whisper, earning a snicker from Rex.

You uncrossed your leg and moved to the edge of the couch, giving Howzer an annoyed look, "Oh, do share your experiences with threesomes and seducing Jedi since you known so much" Rex's laugh was quickly silenced when you snapped your head towards him and asked the same question.

"Can't speak for Howzer, but no. I-. No. No Jedi. No threesome. Never," Rex stammered, looking down at his glass, cheeks flushed.

Howzer took his legs off the couch and sat up straight, resting his arm on the arm resting closest to you and rolling his eyes, "It was a joke. If I ever got with a Jedi, I'm sure you'd find out somehow."

A small smile curled on the edge of your lip, completely oblivious to the fact your face was dangerously close to Howzer's. Noting this, Howzer leaned back into the couch cushion, nodding to Rex, "maybe someday, we'll get our shots with Jedi. Then, we'll report back to you on that. As long as you promise to have a good threesome then report back to us."

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep breath, "Howzer, you're drunk."

"Deal?" He held out a pinkie. You weren't getting away from this.

"Okay, deal," you sighed, intertwining your pinkie with his, raising your glass, "here's to sex with Jedi and good threesomes!"

Once again, laughter filled the air. "By the way," you added, "I don't think it's fair to assume the Jedi are lousy in bed."

Rex let out playful chuckle, "I can think of quite few men who had fond fantasies of you being quite the opposite."

A quick sip of rum suppressed your laugh.

"You're looking at two of them, cyar'ika."

The words slipped out before Howzer could stop himself. Rex snapped his head to Howzer, his stare shooting daggers at him.

All the energy from an exploding star couldn't even begin to compete to the sudden energy shift in the room.

"I- He doesn't know what he's saying right now," Rex grunted between gritted teeth, desperately trying to brush away Howzer's comment.

But Howzer slowly pushed himself off the couch and sat down next to you, his thigh pressed against yours. Rex stared at Howzer's every motion. Howzer grazed your shoulder with his knuckle, admiring the way you looked at his touch.

You felt every small shift of his body. His gaze kept dropping to your mouth and then back to your eyes like he was holding himself back by sheer force of will. You didn’t stop him nor did you want to. Everything in you was wound tight with both drunk desire and with long-buried longing finally surfacing in the moment.

But then, without looking away from you, Howzer spoke.

“Rex,” he said quietly, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

You glanced over to Rex, his expression unreadable. The reflection of the fireplace danced in his eyes, flickering between shadow and light. You didn’t know when he’d started watching, but he hadn’t looked away.

"It's funny," Rex huffed, setting his drink down, placing his hand on your neck. Your hand fell to your lap, his face growing closer to yours. When he was inches away, he turned to face Howzer, "our whole lives, we've waited for permission. For our general's approval. But now," he paused, returning his attention back to you.

Except he didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his lips carefully on yours, making sure the first time his lips touched yours was slow and intimate. His mouth moved gently over yours, unhurried, as though he was memorizing every shape, every motion your mouth made, every small twitch from the corner of your lip.

You deepened it, tilting your head slightly, and his hand slid to your shoulder and down to your hand. The warmth of him running his palm down your arm gave you goosebumps. the solid strength behind that tenderness, made you press in closer.

Howzer loudly exhaled, attempting to catch either yours or Rex's attention. Neither of you pulled away. In another desperate attempt, he cleared his throat. You and Rex broke the kiss, looking up at a very impatient Howzer. Rex got the memo.

"I forgot what I was saying but," Rex continued, letting go of your hand and swiping his finger across your lip, removing the string of saliva between your mouths, "I've been thinking about doing that for a long time," his voice was more rough with each word.

You felt your breath catch and your heart stop. The confession lingered between the three of you as Rex retreated back to his original spot on the couch, taking his glass back into his hand. He studied Howzer for a long beat, then looked at you again. There was something in his eyes. Not jealousy. Not resistance. Just rawness. Emotion. Understanding.

"Kiss her, Howzer," he rasped, knowing those three words just changed the dynamic between the three of you forever.

In an instant, Howzer's palm was pressed to your cheek, forcing your attention to him. His gaze sent shockwaves down your spine as he placed one hand on your shoulder and one knee off to your side, softly shoving you onto your back. Your hair fell into your face as you fell back, extending your arm out to prevent the remainder of your drink from spilling. You dropped it anyway. The heat from the closeness of his chest against yours burned. Howzer inhaled deeply, hovering over your lips, realizing you had just as strong of a grip on his heart as you had through the war.

He knew that it was playing with fire. That he was going to wake up tomorrow hungover and still drunk in love with you, but he kissed you anyway. He wanted to feel the softness of you lips one more time., just like on Altirax. Digging your fingers in, you pulled Howzer closer and kissed him back even harder. Your touch softened and dragged upwards across his back until your fingers stopped along the back of his neck. He pushed further, exploring deeper into your mouth as ran his hands over your shoulders and down your back.

Pulling away for a moment, Howzer shifted to kiss your neck, drawing out a gasp as he pressed kisses along your jaw, not pulling away until you were both out of breath. Blinking up at him, you smiled, before turning your head to meet Rex's stare. He was dressed in only his blacks now, one leg propped up on the couch with his arm loosely over his knee.

“Rex,” you breathed. The way you said his name, so soft and sensual, made his mouth go dry. He poured the rest of his drink back and swallowed, placing his empty glass on the table in front of him before kneeling down in front of you. Howzer's lips continued sloppily trailing across your neck. Reaching out, you touched Rex’s cheek, dragging you fingers across his skin. Though it was only moment ago he got to taste you, he felt as if he was starving. Gentle motions grew quickly grew rougher, his tongue rolling over your bottom lip.

Giving Rex control, Howzer lifted off of you and removed his blacks, hoping to give you a surprise when you were finished with Rex. Instead, he watched as you reached out and curled his fingers around Rex’s neck to pull him close. 

Howzer rolled his eyes, grabbing the hem of your shirt and tugging it over your head, breaking the kiss with Rex. He swallowed, throat tight and heat flushing through him as you and Rex snapped a displeased glare at him.

"Wouldn't want to see her overdressed for the occasion. Right, Rex?" Howzer hummed, winding a piece of your hair around his finger.

You tried to steady your breathing. Something about the mix of the alcohol, the kissing, being exposed to Howzer and Rex, and Howzer's naked body just inches above you set a fire in your core.

Shifting slightly, you propped yourself on your elbows, pulling your hair off your back before turning towards Rex and looking over your shoulder at Howzer, "Care to do the honors?".

Howzer took his time unclasping your chest band, exposing your chest to Rex. Heat flushed to Rex's cheeks at he took the sight of you in. "Here," you offered with a gentle tone, carefully taking his shirt off, a satisfied grin on your face, "much better."

Rex's hands, began to explore your body, tracing the curves of your hips and the swell of your breasts. His touch sent shivers down your already weak spine. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, causing you to arch your back into his touch.

Howzer's hands moved lower, cupping your ass, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his hardness pressing against you as he pulled you onto his lap, straddling over his hips. You let out a soft moan, your hands reaching up to tangle his hair. His lips found yours as Rex continued to tease your chest. Howzer's fingers found the band of shorts, pulling them down.

Rex's lips left yours, pulling away to remove his lower blacks. Meanwhile, Howzer's fingers found your wetness, making you moan softly as he began to stroke you. Your body moved with a fluid grace against Howzer, your hips grinding in a slow, sensuous rhythm, muffled groans pouring from his lips.

"Hey," Rex breathed, snapping your attention away from Howzer. You gaze locked onto Rex's exposed length, pre-cum already beading at the tip. While continuing to sway your hips against Howzer, you placed your tongue at the base of Rex's throbbing cock, licking slowly to the tip, keeping your eyes locked with Rex.

Rex exhaled in pleasure at the sight of your tongue on his cock. Gripping your hair with one hand, he began to tug, thrusting his length into your mouth.

You choked as Rex bottomed out at the back of your throat. Pleased with his effect on you, he pinched your nipple with his other hand, curious how far he could push you. Instinctually, you carefully grasped his balls, massaging them gentle in your hand. It was all too much for him. He was close. Too close.

He ripped his cock from your mouth, placing both hands on your shoulders and shoving you off Howzer. Your eyes widened as your back hit the couch, cool air hitting your wet folds.

"Sorry vod," he hastily apologized to Howzer before positioning himself on top of you, lining himself up between your thighs.

Before you could prepare for Rex inside you, his balls were already slapping against your ass. You let out a yelp of pain as the sudden motions stretched your walls.

As Rex continued to thrust into you, Howzer knelt at your side. Wincing, moans kept flowing from your mouth, pushing Rex closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh!" you gasped, reaching for Howzer's hair, desperate to hold onto something. Howzer pressed his lips to your forehead, one hand massaging your breast.

Rex's movement's suddenly became ferrel, and with a few especially deep thrusts, you felt his cock twitch. "Kriffing maker!" Rex moaned, emptying his balls inside you. He stopped thrusting, his body collapsing on top of yours, his breaths heavy.

Howzer stiffened, slowly lifting his lips from your forehead, darkness glazing over his eyes as he stared down Rex. In one swift motion, Howzer slid his arm under you and flipped both you and Rex over. Rex gave Howzer a startled glance.

"Don't give me that look," Howzer scoffed, hopping on the couch behind you and gripping your hips. There was an added venom in in voice, "with all due respect," he paused, running a finger across your still drenched folds. His grip on your hip tightened as he felt Rex's cum on you. Something about Rex getting to finish inside you before him lit a fire in his core. Howzer tugged your hips up, lining his erection with your soaked opening, "you have a whole lot a nerve to cum in my general." He emphasized the "my", feeling you tense at his words.

"Howzer, please," you begged. You weren't sure if you were wanting him to drop the general title or impale you. Regardless, you got the ladder.

His thrusts were rough, yet perfectly placed. Perhaps it was the different angle, but you were taken aback by how different Howzer felt compared to Rex.

Howzer continued to violently shove himself into you, your breasts bouncing against Rex's chest with each thrust. You bit down on Rex's chest as Howzer hit the right spot inside of you, your legs on the brink of going weak.

"Please," you whined, barely audible, "I'm so close Howzer."

"Oh cyar'ika," Howzer moaned, increasing the speed of his thrusts and leaning into your back, placing his mouth against your ear, "let go." As if you were under his command, you did as he instructed, crying out his name as your walls collapsed around him.

He continued to fuck you while you crumbled underneath him, the sight pushing him over the edge. You whimpered as he neared his release, your orgasm pulsating around his cock. It was too much for him. Howzer pushed himself even farther into you, releasing his orgasm in one hard thrust.

Rex wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead while Howzer finished emptying his load into you before collapsing onto your back. The scent of each other's orgasms filled the room; the sound of Howzer's breaths loud in your ear.

Half your body was sprawled over Rex, your cheek resting on his chest. He had one arm behind his head, one loosely around your neck, pullimg you closer into him. His breathing was steady beneath you, each inhale lifting you slightly. It felt like the rhythm of lullaby you didn’t realize you needed. The slow thud of his heartbeat pulsed against your ear, providing a comforting harmony.

Behind you, Howzer’s chest was pressed against your side, one arm draped on your spine, his fingers gently curled in your hair. His presence was quieter than Rex’s, but just as solid. He didn’t say anything after he finished, but you could feel the way he matched your breathing.

None of you had moved in a while. There wasn’t any need.

The passionate heat faded, replaced by something quieter and deeper. A stillness that held more intimacy than any motion could. After the actions of tonight, there was no armor left between you. No rank. No uniform. No obligations to duty.

You turned your face slightly, feeling the soft fabric of the blanket Howzer pulled from the back of the couch and draped haphazardly over all three of you. The air on your shoulder was cool, but Rex noticed your exposed skin, and pulled the blanket over. You felt him shift beneath you, just a little, tucking his chin toward your head, his nose brushing gently through your hair.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice barely more than a breath.

You nodded, feeling your lips curve faintly against his collarbone, “Yeah, I'm okay."

Rex didn’t speak again, but instead just exhaled slowly and let his fingers trace lazy, aimless patterns down your back. He didn’t grip or hold. Just touched. Light, reverent. Like he couldn’t quite believe you were really there.

And behind you, Howzer pressed a quiet kiss between your shoulder blades. Not possessive. Not urgent. Just present. A silent, steady kind of devotion.

His voice came next, low and rough with sleep, “You’re warm.”

You smiled, “So are you.”

He gave a faint hum of amusement and continued to kiss your back. You let out a content sigh as his kisses trailed to your cheek.

It struck you then, how natural this felt.

Not just the physical closeness, but the emotional gravity of it. You hadn’t meant for the night to unfold like this. You’d all just been talking, laughing and drinking, letting years of memory and unspoken connection come slowly, gently undone. There had been no plan. No confession. Just an understanding, quietly reached.

And now, you were here, held between two men who had known you in war, seen you in battle, and chosen to stay. You felt the weight of that truth settle deep in your chest.

You let out a slow breath and slid your hand up to the back of Rex’s neck, fingers combing gently through the short blond hair there. He tilted his head into the touch slightly, eyes fluttering closed.

“Because I'm a woman of my word” you sighed softly, teasing but tired, "would you two like to hear about this great threesome I had?"

He gave a quiet grunt that might’ve been a laugh, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

Your chest swelled with something warm and heavy. You leaned forward just enough to press a small kiss to his jaw, then settled again, cheek resting against his sternum.

Howzer nuzzled the back of your neck, “And I'll tell you about my Jedi sex adventure."

You softly laughed and felt Rex shift again, his hand brushing down your shoulder, pausing at your waist. His touch wasn’t asking for anything, he was just reminding you that he was there, and he was't letting you go.

You’d been so used to being strong. Resilient. Carving out safety on your own. And now, you didn’t have to.

At least not in this moment.

Behind you, Howzer adjusted, and you felt him draw up slightly, his lips grazing your hair. His breath was slower now, sleep starting to edge in. His thumb traced gentle lines over your hipbone under the blanket, rhythm steady. You could feel the weight of his head against the back of yours.

You closed your eyes and let the quiet hold you.

This wasn’t complicated. It wasn’t dramatic or messy. It was just real. Messy in the way that people are when they’re honest, when they trust, when they let the walls down and stop pretending they don’t need each other.

No one needed to say what now.

No one needed to make this more than what it was; Shared comfort, want, trust, a deep, mutual affection that had taken years to grow quietly between the cracks of war.

Your breath hitched slightly, not from tears, but from the sheer weight of being fully seen and still held close.

You shifted one hand back, threading your fingers with Howzer’s against your side . He curled his hand around yours without hesitation.

Would there would be questions in the morning? Maybe. Complications? Absolutely. But right now, you were here, between them, loved and safe.

The morning arrived slowly, like it knew not to intrude.

Cold air filled the room, but not too cold, thanks to the body heat of the two clone captains sprawled beside you. The couch definitely wasn’t made for three, but you’d made it work.

You were nestled in the middle, cocooned in a nest of wool blankets and worn cushions. One of Howzer’s arms was wrapped snug around your waist, his hand splayed across your ribs, rising and falling with your breath. He slept behind you, his cheek resting against the back of your shoulder.

Rex was in front of you, lying on his side, close enough that your legs tangled beneath the covers and your foreheads nearly touched. His arm had draped over your hip at some point during the night, and his other hand was tucked beneath the pillow. You could feel the quiet rhythm of his breathing, the subtle twitch of his fingers against your side when he shifted in his sleep.

You didn’t move.

None of you did.

here was no hum of a command post, no alarms, no rustle of datapads or orders shouted across the comm. Just the quiet, the warmth of two bodies pressed gently to either side of you, and the softness of blankets that smelled faintly of smoke and pine.

Your cheek rested against the curve of Rex’s shoulder. His skin was warm there, and smooth, save for the faint ridge of a scar beneath your jawline. You didn’t need to know the story. You already knew enough of them.

Behind you, Howzer shifted slightly in his sleep. His grip on your waist tightened for a moment, then eased, and his nose brushed the back of your neck. A low, contented sigh escaped him, almost too quiet to hear.

You closed your eyes again, letting yourself melt into the weight of them.

This wasn’t something you’d had during the war. There’d been camaraderie, yes. Deep bonds forged in the trenches and shadows. Late-night laughs in foxholes, shoulder bumps in passing, hands clasped in final moments before battle. But this was different.

You felt Rex stir slightly in front of you. Not fully awake, but just enough to turn his head so that his forehead rested against yours, skin to skin. His breath ghosted over your lips in quiet, steady waves. His hand shifted higher, resting on the dip of your spine.

You didn’t flinch or pull away. You didn’t want to.

It was strange how natural it felt. These men who had fought and bled and carried the weight of war with you were now curled against you like a buffer against everything outside. You weren’t sure what to call this or if you even needed to call it anything.

Howzer pressed a little closer behind you, his legs tangling more deliberately with yours. He was always warm and now that heat radiated against your back like an oven. You could feel the steady pulse of his heartbeat through the press of his chest to your spine, slow and strong. His presence wasn’t sharp or demanding. It simply existed, steady as the ground beneath your feet.

Rex didn’t move much, didn’t speak, didn’t even open his eyes. But his hand flexed occasionally. Just enough to remind you he was there. His thumb brushed slowly across the curve of your waist, a barely there motion, unconscious and constant. He was careful with his space, but not distant.

The quiet stretched on. Not heavy or awkward. Just full.

There was comfort in the way they fit around you, each in their own way. Howzer’s grip was instinctive, protective and anchoring, like he needed to feel you were real and close. Rex’s closeness was more deliberate, softer, a quiet presence waiting to be needed. Ultimately, they weren’t competing. Ultimately, there was no jealousy here. Only familiarity. Trust.

You wondered, briefly, how it had come to this. The war was long over. The Empire had changed everything. But somehow, the three of you had found your way back to one another; not in battle, but in the chaos after.

Rex shifted again, his hand brushing up your back before settling higher, fingertips ghosting along the curve of your shoulder blade. His breath hitched slightly, like his body wasn’t sure whether to wake or keep dreaming. He didn’t open his eyes.

You reached up and gently touched his wrist, grounding him.

The response was subtle but immediate. He stilled. Then leaned forward just enough for his forehead to rest more fully against yours.

Behind you, Howzer adjusted as well, nuzzling in with a soft hum against the back of your neck. His stubble scraped gently against your skin, and then you felt the warmth of a sigh ripple down your spine.

You were held on both sides yet somehow, it didn’t feel crowded. It felt right.

The warmth between the three of you was real, even if it existed outside the boundaries of what anyone else would call normal. But there had never been anything conventional about the bonds forged in war. And in the aftermath, when the war was over and the galaxy had lost its way, this was what made sense. Connection. Trust. Touch that asked nothing and gave everything.

It was some time before any of you truly stirred. Even then, it was gradual. A shift of hips. A sleepy hum. Fingers threading together. Rex opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the faint light, and for a long moment he just looked at you.

Then he smiled, barely awake. Just a flicker at the corner of his mouth. Enough.

You returned it, your nose brushing his.

Howzer was the last to speak, voice still thick with sleep, "We should do this more often.”

You didn’t answer. Just tightened your grip around Rex’s wrist and let your head fall back slightly against Howzer’s chest. The meaning didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

Maybe this wasn’t about romance between the three of you. It wasn’t about anything fragile or uncertain. This was something else entirely.

A promise, maybe. A refuge, maybe.

But that was something to figure out later.

Tags: @trixie2023 @shuckfaced-fangirl @blondelevy @clon3wh0r3

@melonmochiii @alice-in-wonderland111 @starrdvstkenobi @marvel-starwars-nerd @Simping-for-fives @horsegirl4561 @dominhoe-squad @Koskareevesismyqueen @thegirlwhosesilencespeakestloudest @katelynnwrites @pinkiemme @Youmaynowdothething @808tsuika @Dangerdumpling @ahsoka-padme @Stucky2k3 @Sarel-Lavellan @weragarisa @persaloodles @peacelandbread @raf-loves-everything @socloney @coffeeandtodd @gryffindorqueensworld @obiorbenkenobi @hannahhessica113 @smells_sharpies @Jedi-dreea @lightning-wolffe @ganondorf_has_greasy_balls

[echoreconcrew]

The New Crew

Tag list

@legacygirlingreen @saiwaispirit @leenathegreengirl @returnofthepineapple @citrus-and-things @heidnspeak @loyaltechphan @thecoffeelorian @foxgirl95 @freesia-writes @fiveofirstmuse @clonethirstingisreal @justanotherdikutsimp @vrycurious @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @cw80831 @themeghanlodon @whimsy-of-worlds @separatistnightmare @alor-ika @imabeautifulbutterfly @badbatchbruna

[mae-lou-ron]

::steps up to @gargothnightzine altar::

Am I doing this right? I can’t draw for kriff, so I’m writing something. Humbly presenting an excerpt from my first stab at a ✨GAR Goth Night✨ fic!

Mae Ramble™: I love the goth subculture. it's steeped in so much history- which I could go on and on about how it has evolved over the decades... but I won't. I'll stick to the art and aesthetic. The Crow is an incredible addition to this vast genre, and one of my favorites. For this fic, I'm specifically referencing the graphic novel by J. O’Barr, and the 1994 movie starring Brandon Lee. I wanted to make a little Star Wars play on that for some 'original' content in this story.

warnings: clone x f!reader fic; reader has long nails; this "excerpt" is like 1,000+ words, mentions of grief and loss, flirting, story will have eventual fluff and smut. This is painfully a WIP. Also, I glossed over a lot of the darker stuff in 'The Crow', so if you are interested in checking it out, please consume at your own risk. I recommend reviewing the content for any triggers. It's a beautiful story with beautiful art, but it's full of 'em.

(working) summary: The irony isn't lost on you — being the only actual goth-adjacent one in your friend group. Yet, they coaxed you out of your apartment to a goth-themed night at a bar. A bar for the clones of the GAR, of all places. At least you brought a book to read as you waited for your friends to show up…what you didn’t expect was to pique a certain clone captain’s interest in the process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knowing smirk told you he'd caught you staring.

The teal patches on the clone's leather jacket caught your eye from a couple seats down the bar. Quickly, you glanced back down at your novel, still feeling his gaze on you. When you looked up again, however, he had vanished. As you scanned the bar for those distinctive flashes of teal, a warm rumbling voice sounded at your side.

"What are you reading?" The voice was soft yet distinct from other clones you'd spoken to before — a smooth, gruff curiosity that caught your attention.

It was him.

Molten amber eyes found yours, the neon lighting of 79's gleaming off his perfectly imperfect swept back hair. Teal accents standing out boldly against the black leather had your eyes wandering over him with intrigue. There was something disarmingly sweet in the way he tilted his head towards the empty barstool next to you, silently seeking permission to join. His entire demeanor radiated a quiet confidence that put you at ease, despite the pulsing music and crowded atmosphere. There was something intriguing about a man who would approach someone reading alone at a bar, especially on a night like this. Eyes drifting between your face and the book in your hands suggested true curiosity rather than some pickup attempt.

"Uh..." Caught a little off guard, you weren't opposed to people approaching you necessarily, and while being the girl at the bar with a book had its advantages, your friends were proving to be late— yet again. There was no point in being rude when he seemed sincerely interested, so you patted the stool next to you and closed the book, keeping your thumb between the glossy pages to show him the cover art.

"It's 'The Keerdak,'" you replied eventually, turning the worn binding so he could see the other side — a dark figure outlined against Coruscant's neon-lit skyline. "It's a revenge story, about a Mandalorian warrior who returns from death to avenge his lost love. Set in the lower levels of Coruscant, actually. Pretty melodramatic stuff," you added with a slight smirk, curious to see his reaction to your choice of reading material.

"Sounds pretty romantic for the Mandalorians I've met... may I?" He looked hopeful, glancing down at the text with an open hand before his eyes landed on your face once again. A soft smile formed at his assessment, handing the book to him so he could appreciate it more closely.

"What?" he asked, his quiet confidence faltering at your smile for a fleeting moment as he took the text from you.

"It's just most people don't consider this romance... it's so dark."

"I wasn't aware they were mutually exclusive..." a dark eyebrow arched up at you playfully, "...and we're here at a goth night at a bar, aren't we?"

"True, though I would hardly call 79's romantic..." you laughed softly.

"Okay, fair..." His smirk was charming as his eyes scanned over the stark black and white illustrations depicting the shadowy figure clad in all black beskar'gam moving through neon-lit streets, the dramatic panel layouts emphasizing the noir atmosphere. A flying beast with its wings spread in the moonlight circled the warrior. A silent guardian.

"Oh—" you said, tapping a perfectly manicured stiletto nail onto the figure. "That's the keerdak... she's like a warden in the world between worlds. They're connected by some kind of bond that tethers the Mando here even in death. At least until the warrior can exact his vengeance, of course..."

The clone's eyes widened slightly at the intricate artwork, fingers hovering over a particularly striking splash page showing the protagonist perched atop a skyscraper, his black cloak billowing in the wind. "Wow..." a genuine sigh of intrigue caught you off guard. "I've never seen anything like this before..."

Fascination was written across his features, and it wasn't the typical polite interest you got from most people when they saw what you were reading — this was different, almost childlike in its wonder. Something about his earnest reaction made you want to share more.

"My favorite is the helmet..." You leaned closer to him as the song changed into something with deeper bass— a little of his cologne floating over to you as you did so. It smelled of bourbon and burning wood... deep and rich and making you want more. "There's a scene where he paints it..." you murmured close to his ear, noticing how the warmth in his cheeks spread to his neck at your proximity as you flipped to the respective page.

"Like a death's head..." he mused, tracing the illustration with his fingertip, the white paint standing out against his black armor, a floating omen of death in the darkness. The symbolism clearly not lost on him — a warrior marked by loss— his grief and his armor indistinguishable from one another. The clone's eyes lingered on the stark contrast of black and white, seeming to understand the beauty in such a clash of opposing forces.

"So... what made you want to experience a 'Goth' night?" You asked him, curious but clearly not disappointed. He chuckled with a sigh. "My men dragged me out, but it looks like my second has already fallen in love with someone..." he thumbed over his shoulder. "They’re good men, they deserve a little fun..."

Following the gesture, you spotted a clone dancing enthusiastically with a Twi'lek woman, both of them completely lost in the music and each other. Something about watching these soldiers find moments of peace warmed your heart. Turning back to your companion, you found his gaze already fixed on you, warm and intent. He returned the book, his fingers ghosting against yours in a touch that felt both accidental and deliberate.

My men.

Not being in his armor kit meant you couldn’t easily tell this clone’s rank. It wasn’t something that mattered to you in the least, but upon closer inspection of his handsome and weathered face, you realized this wasn’t some shiny cadet whose attention you caught. His honeyed eyes held a hardness that spoke of battles fought and experience earned, set deep in a face mapped with a light scar that splashed across his left cheek. The roughness of his jawline and the slight creases in his forehead and eyebrows hinted at countless hours spent in the unforgiving glare of distant suns, commanding troops across war-torn worlds.

The clone beside you had caught you staring once again. Heat pricked your cheeks when he turned his body fully to face you, extending his arm.

"I'm Howzer..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, I wouldn't last 5 minutes at an event like this IRL before I got overstimmed, but if I did, this would be me. I’m 100% that chick who brings a book and headphones to a bar…and has massive rbf looks kriffing hot while doing so.

Thank you @ghostymarni for sharing this incredible idea with us, and for all the artists and writers adding their own take on gar goth nite. @lonewolflupe & @gargothnightzine thank you for organizing a place to keep track of all the amazing contributions. I love seeing all the new lore being added by everyone! It's a fresh shake up as we sprint to spring.

GAR Goth Nite frequent flyers who might enjoy?: @eobe @eclec-tech @skellymom @returnofthepineapple @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @wings-and-beskargam

[dragonrider9905]

Prompt List

Dogma

Midnight Snacks

Wrecker

Midnight Dances

Night Gone (Not Totally) Wrong

Howzer

Night Reveals All Regrets

[cabbagege]

- You need to push him... Harder

[here-comes-the-moose]

Hunter to Howzer: Excuse me you can’t talk to him like that.

Howzer, angry at Crosshair: Why not?

Hunter: He’s baby.

[tangents-within-tangents]

Okay I’m still disappointed/confused that the underground network crew wasn’t in the finale to help rescue the clones (I just thought it was a given based on the build up, and if this really is the last clone project we’re gonna get, it’s sad we didn’t get to see Rex one last time) but just gotta wonder what it looked like from Rex’s perspective lol 

Echo’s just like ‘man they lost the kid again, Imma go steal them a ship, brb’ Then he comes back with a ship full of rescued clones like ‘hey so we can check Tantiss off the to-do list’

[bunji-enthusiast]

𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐠!

In which you have a very interesting day as your fellow knight intimidates anyone away from you (mainly if ur uncomfy).

Note || this twas requested, nehehehe

Characters [Lancelot and Howzer (need to give him so more love istg).]

Howzer

Howzer had always prided himself on his easy-going attitude and his firm belief in the power of a good laugh. But, as of late, something was… different. It was subtle at first. A slight shift in how he’d stand around you, a careful glance when you laughed too hard at something someone else said. And that was before the whole ‘guard dog’ thing started.

It all started on a chilly evening at the Holy Knights' headquarters, just before the sun dipped below the horizon. You had ventured outside for a bit of fresh air, enjoying the quiet after a long day filled with political maneuvering and the endless chorus of military orders.

And that’s when it happened.

A voice—loud, obnoxious, and far too familiar—broke the evening's peace.

"You there! Yeah, you!" The voice came from a young noble, arrogantly strutting towards you with a lecherous smirk on his face. "How about you and I get better acquainted? I’m sure someone as fine as you would want a man with power."

You barely had time to roll your eyes before Howzer appeared from the shadows like a hero in one of those old stories—except there was nothing dignified about his sudden arrival. The weight of his presence seemed to shake with every step, and the wind around him seemed to stir as if reacting to his presence.

The noble froze as Howzer's lance pointed directly at his chest.

"I suggest you move along before you regret it," Howzer said, his voice booming with authority, though his posture was stiff. His usual confidence was tempered with something... more serious.

The noble blinked, not expecting the sudden confrontation. "And who the hell are you?" he sneered, clearly unafraid.

"Howzer, the Great Holy Knight," he stated proudly, though his voice had a slight quiver in it, betraying his nervousness. "And this is my charge. So unless you want a taste of my Tempest, I recommend you walk away."

The noble laughed, clearly unimpressed. "Ha! Tempest? What kind of name is that for a knight?"

But Howzer didn’t budge. His lance shifted ever so slightly, the air around it stirring with an invisible force. The wind picked up, and it seemed like the very atmosphere was pulling the noble’s clothes, making it difficult for him to move.

You watched in both amusement and awe as the young noble struggled to remain standing.

"Alright, alright," the noble stammered, backing off with his hands up. "I get it! I’m going!"

Once he was out of sight, Howzer turned to you, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Did you see that?” Howzer grinned. “Did you see how I totally scared that guy off?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You certainly scared him, alright. But I think you may have scared him more with your, uh, dramatic entrance.”

His expression fell slightly, and he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I was just trying to make it cool. You know... like one of those knights in the stories.”

“You certainly looked the part,” you teased, not missing the slight blush that spread across his cheeks.

Howzer shifted uncomfortably, looking away. “It’s just… when I see someone like that guy bothering you, I... I get all protective. Like I need to shield you from people who don’t know how to behave around someone as important as you.”

You chuckled. "Howzer, I can handle myself. But it’s... sweet, in a weird way."

"Sweet?" His face turned an even darker shade of red, and he puffed out his chest a little, trying to regain some of his earlier bravado. "I’m just doing what any good knight would do!"

"Good knight, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Or maybe a romantic knight? Seems like you’re getting a little... too protective."

He froze, his face now the color of a freshly ripened tomato. "I—what? No! I’m not—"

You laughed, watching as Howzer fumbled for words, trying to act serious, but the awkwardness only made him seem more endearing.

“Yeah, sure, Howzer. Just a good, old-fashioned knightly loyalty," you teased, leaning against the wall and crossing your arms. "No romantic feelings involved."

His eyes widened for a split second, but he quickly recovered, giving a nervous chuckle. "W-well, I’m not denying that you’re... nice to look at... but that’s all! It’s just... protective instincts!"

The two of you stood there for a moment, the awkward tension between you only growing more pronounced. Then, as if sensing an opportunity to get back on track, Howzer cleared his throat and straightened up.

“So, uh, speaking of protecting,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “If you ever need anything, you know, anything at all, I’ll be there. No questions asked.”

You tilted your head, looking at him more closely. "Even if I need a shoulder to cry on? Or maybe someone to watch terrible romance dramas with?”

His expression faltered for a brief moment, before he broke into an exaggerated grin, though it was clear he was still a bit flustered.

"Well... I might need some time to prepare for that kind of mission... But if it means protecting you, I’m game!"

You chuckled again, shaking your head. "You're something else, Howzer."

“Yep, that’s me,” he said with a wink, though his heart was clearly racing beneath his tough exterior. "The one and only, Great Holy Knight Howzer, protector of the fair and beautiful you."

"Just don’t go getting any romantic ideas, okay?" you smirked, half-joking.

His eyes widened again. "I-I—no! Not what I meant! I swear, you’ve got the wrong idea!"

You couldn't help but laugh at how cute and utterly ridiculous Howzer was acting. "You're alright, Howzer. Don’t worry. I won’t go running off anytime soon."

Howzer let out a sigh of relief, a bright grin spreading across his face. "Good! Because I'm not letting anyone mess with you... romantically or otherwise."

As he stood there, striking what he thought was a very heroic pose, you couldn't help but smile at the oddly sweet, protective side of him that had emerged.

Maybe Howzer wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but when it came to loyalty? He was a diamond.

And for some reason, that meant more to you than you cared to admit.

Lancelot

In the world of knights, monsters, and prophecies, Lancelot—a prince, a knight, a warrior with a big name—had his own unique role to play. But on this particular day, his role was something far less glamorous than vanquishing evil or battling ancient beasts. Today, he was your personal guard dog.

Sure, he didn’t exactly fit the traditional image of a dog. No fur-coated beast panting in the corner, no wagging tail to show his mood. Instead, he stood tall, his magenta-red eyes sharp and calculating, his posture poised like a predator in the wild. But make no mistake—Lancelot was every bit the protective creature. He just happened to wear the appearance of a brooding, 16-year-old Holy Knight and not the fluffier variety.

It had started innocently enough. You, tired of being bombarded with strangers who couldn’t seem to mind their own business, found Lancelot’s presence comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. The boy—well, not exactly a boy, given his heritage—seemed to understand. Every time someone came too close, his stance changed. His expression grew colder, his shoulders squared. There was a quiet intensity about him that whispered, “Get any closer, and you’ll regret it.”

You didn’t even have to say anything. Without a word, he took his place by your side, exuding an aura of intimidation that immediately sent any would-be interloper scurrying. And you? You felt a little bit safer.

The first time it happened, you had been walking through a crowded market square, and some merchant was getting far too enthusiastic in his sales pitch. With a sleazy grin plastered on his face, he had sidled up to you, practically oozing charm. You had tried to smile politely and brush him off, but Lancelot, standing behind you, wasn’t having it.

He took one glance at the merchant, then turned to you with a look that clearly said, “Do you want me to handle this?” And before you could even answer, his posture had shifted. He straightened up like a well-trained soldier, and the merchant immediately took several steps back, his grin faltering.

You might have expected Lancelot to unleash some scathing words—he was, after all, a prince and a knight—but instead, he merely raised an eyebrow. That was it. The man hastily muttered something about needing to ‘go see a man about some spices,’ and practically ran off.

“Did you... just scare him off?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

Lancelot shrugged nonchalantly. “Some people just need to understand boundaries.”

From that moment on, you realized that he was no mere bodyguard. No, Lancelot was an intimidator. His sheer presence warded off unwanted attention like a magical barrier, and you were more than happy to let him do his thing.

Of course, it wasn’t always as serious as it seemed. Lancelot had his moments of humor, albeit in his own dry, blunt way. You had once been approached by a group of overly curious tourists who just couldn’t stop asking about your "fox companion"—the tiny, strawberry-red furred Sin. They marveled at his cuteness, cooed, and asked ridiculous questions like, “Is he magical?” and “What’s his name?”

Lancelot, in his fox form, blinked once and then sat up on his haunches, letting out a tiny, nonchalant “Hmph,” which had them instantly confused. But what followed was a mere tilt of his head and a gaze so cold it could freeze the air. The tourists quickly realized they were not in the presence of an ordinary animal but of something much more... dangerous. They stammered a few apologies and left in a hurry.

As they scuttled away, you couldn't help but laugh. “You know, you don’t always have to be so intimidating.”

Lancelot’s response was a simple flick of his ear. “I’m just doing my job,” he muttered, though there was a hint of pride in his voice.

Despite his cold demeanor, you could tell he understood the value of making others feel comfortable, especially in situations where you were made uneasy by too much attention. He had grown up with the weight of both royal expectations and personal struggles, and somewhere along the way, he had learned the art of keeping people at arm’s length. In his eyes, being seen was often far more trouble than it was worth.

One day, during a particularly dull council meeting in Liones, you found yourself once again seated beside Lancelot. The room was full of murmurs and opinions, but you could hardly focus. Your mind wandered, and you found yourself feeling—well, uncomfortable. Eyes seemed to linger a little too long in your direction. There was something about the way the knights around the table kept looking over at you that just didn’t sit right.

As if sensing your discomfort, Lancelot turned to you. He didn’t speak—there was no need for words. His eyes simply locked onto yours for a split second, and in that moment, he stood up. Without hesitation, he positioned himself slightly in front of you, like a barrier, then let out a low, almost imperceptible growl that only you and the person closest to him could hear.

The others in the room seemed to freeze. The air grew still. He didn’t even have to do anything dramatic—no flashy display of power or magic. It was simply Lancelot, in all his intimidating, stoic glory, casting a long shadow that made everyone suddenly forget their curiosity. It was also a good way to keep people focused on the topic at hand.

“You alright?” he asked you a moment later, his voice softer but still carrying that quiet authority.

You nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. “Yeah, thanks. That... that was a nice touch.”

He gave a half-smile. “No one should make you uncomfortable. It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

And, honestly, you were more than happy with that arrangement. Because, despite his serious demeanor and the intense aura of a knight on a mission, Lancelot was your personal guard dog in a world full of chaos. And while he didn’t always admit it, the more time you spent together, the more you realized that perhaps, just maybe, he enjoyed the role a little more than he let on.

Not that he’d ever say it out loud, of course. After all, a guard dog like him had a reputation to uphold.