#howzer is trying to figure out the relation in the last one

[librathefangirl]

I'm sorry but Ban looks like he's out here babysitting his little brothers or nephews or something 😆

[cinebration]

Written in DNA (Booker x Reader) [Epilogue]

You tie up loose ends.

Ahhhh! This epilogue is, like, twice the size of other chapters. I should’ve broken it into two, but I figured you all wanted to get to the end!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Epilogue

Tagged: @lucy-sky​, @city-of-weird​, @all-the-right-regrets, @alannister-always-pays-her-debts​, @fleetwoodsmacabitch​

Warnings: violence

Gif Source: captaindelafere

General Howzer looked too thin to be a military man at his age, but what people mistook for smallness was all lean muscle, as tough as a coffin nail. His hair had gone gray despite his age, but it gave him a steeled look that he didn’t mind. It added to the ferocity of his blue eyes.

With Specimen 049 back in the compound, he let himself breathe easy for a moment. Her absence had been a source of great distress for him—a fact his jaw still attested to, aching from all the grinding he had inflicted on it.

But there was still the trouble of how Specimen 049 had escaped.

It kept him up at night. How had she contacted the outside? How had she arranged the help? They had scoured her quarters after the breakout, searching for anything that indicated how she had reached beyond her concrete room. Having found nothing, Howzer had to admit it hadn’t had anything to do with Specimen 049. Someone else had come for her on their own initiative.

Howzer considered shutting down the program. Specimen 049 had been one of a few successful experiments—perhaps the best, because she had never resisted, had never fled.

Until that one day.

She may not have orchestrated the escape, but she had flown the coop all the same when the opportunity arrived. She had obliterated his best team when he sent them after her.

Perhaps the experiments were ultimately a failure. Everything had worked but for the ability to suppress or remove the flight instinct, the need to escape prison. If even Specimen 049, his model subject, had shucked her chains, then there was no hope.

Chaos erupted outside the compound, alarms blaring, but Howzer didn’t question it, too consumed by his problem. Whoever was assaulting the base had no hope of success, besides.

The doorknob of his office turned. He glanced at it in irritation. “Private, I ordered you—”

He froze as you stepped into the room, followed by the man he recognized as your liberator from the week before.

“Specimen oh-four-nine.”

“General Howzer,” you said, your voice crisp, without inflection. “I’m glad you decided to work late tonight.”

You moved forward, crossing the room in three quick strides. Howzer reached for the gun in his desk drawer. Your hand clamped down on his wrist, snapped it. Pain exploded up his arm. The gun clattered to the floor as he hissed, cradling his wrist.

You gestured to the other man. Nodding, he handed you his pistol and circled around the desk, pulling the keyboard of Howzer’s computer toward him.

“What are you doing?” Howzer growled.

He watched in mounting horror as the man located the program files. He went into Specimen 049’s folder, deleted it, and then backed out. He hesitated, then deleted everything related to the program before purging them from the hard drive.

“You can’t just erase everything,” Howzer sneered. “We’ll just recreate it all.”

You shook your head, yanked him to his feet. “We’ll see.” Turning to the other man, you ordered, “Finish here.”

You paused, pulled open another drawer of Howzer’s desk. A bottle of scotch lay at the bottom, a quarter of it gone. Taking it, you pushed Howzer toward the door.

“What happened? You were my best results.”

You remained quiet, shoving him through the door and down the hallway. The chaos of the explosion had drawn everyone to the front of the compound. You led Howzer away to the back, then through a steel door.

The cold night air hit Howzer like knives. He shivered despite himself, the pain in his wrist flaring. Fear pushed at him, but he shoved it down. He was General Benjamin Howzer, and damned would he be if he let some young upstart intimidate him.

“Your car,” you demanded.

He pointed to a brown sedan nestled beside an SUV. Fishing in his pocket for keys, you clicked the button. The car’s lights flashed.

“I expected you to lie.”

“Good. That’s what we trained you to do.”

Howzer was already planning his escape. The car was home turf for him. He knew the way the wheel jerked to the right when he hit pot holes and how quick it would take to slam the seat back against you. He knew the passenger seatbelt was loose and fraying, unreliable.

He would walk away.

You shoved him into the driver’s seat, got into the passenger seat. Howzer settled in behind the wheel, trying to anticipate your moves.

You handed him the liquor bottle. “Drink.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me make you.”

He stared you down. “Make me.”

Starbursts exploded in his vision as you seized his face, jamming the bottle against his lips. He felt a tooth crack, blood mingling with the burning scotch. He choked, unable to swallow so much so fast, but you were forcing the bottle further past his lips, down into the back of his throat.

Then it was gone. He gasped, lungs and throat burning, lips pouring blood. “You fucking bitch!”

“I am what you made me. Now drive.”

Fear tried again, more successful this time in making him afraid. “Where?”

You gestured to the street leading to the highway.

There was still an opportunity to escape. Howzer tried to formulate it in his mind as he started the sedan and worked his way to the freeway. He slowly put on his seatbelt.

You didn’t do the same.

Even better, he thought.

Howzer’s foot pressed down on the gas, pushing the speedometer past eighty, then ninety. You watched dispassionately.

Fear wrapped around his guts.

“When this is over, I’m going to get your boyfriend, too,” he snarled. “You’ve damned him in all of this.”

He eyed the crop of woods looming up ahead alongside the highway.

“You won’t get the chance.”

Howzer’s seatbelt suddenly went slack. He glanced down, saw your hand retreat from the release button.

He had planned to swerve into a tree, but seeing the seatbelt made him hesitate. He shot a glance at you.

“Nice try,” you whispered, and yanked the steering wheel beneath his hands.

~~

Booker drove the car down the long stretch of road, searching for you. He found the wreckage of Howzer’s sedan, the crumpled body of Howzer himself wrapped around the tree.

No sign of you.

Trying not to worry—had someone else grabbed you first?—Booker drove further down, searching the woods.

At last, he glimpsed something gray in the distance. As he drew near, it resolved into you, wandering slowly down the asphalt. He pulled to a stop beside you.

You slipped into the passenger seat. A dark bruise was forming on your arms and forehead. Booker gestured to them. You frowned in confusion. He reached over and gently brushed the back of a finger across your arm. It sent a prickle up his hand.

“Dashboard,” you murmured, watching his finger.

Pulling away slowly, Booker refocused on the road. An SUV was approaching from the opposite direction. The headlights flashed.

“They came to help?”

The surprise in your voice matched Booker’s own. “Yes.”

“See? Family comes through.”

Chest constricting, Booker rolled to a stop beside the SUV. Andy stuck her head out of the driver’s window. “Everything good?”

Booker gave her a thumbs up. He could see the others crowding at the windows, peering at him and at you through the windshield.

“There’s a place not far from here,” Andy continued. “To crash for the night.”

Booker shifted uncomfortably and glanced at you. “Whatever you want,” you told him.

“Okay,” he answered Andy.

He followed the immortals to the safe house. The car ride passed in silence, you staring out the window. He wanted to say something but couldn’t think of anything. He felt uncomfortable, hyperaware of your presence—the way you were breathing, your reflection in the window.

At last, he asked, “Why did Howzer call you Specimen oh-four-nine?”

“That was my number.”

He recalled you telling him to call you “Spec” if he wanted a name back when he first met. Clearing his throat, he said, “My real name is Sebastien.”

He felt your eyes on him before you quietly gave him yours. He repeated it over and over in his mind, guarding it like some precious piece of you.

Pulling up to the safe house, Booker was surprised to discover it was actually a two-storey house. There were enough rooms for everyone to sleep on their own.

You trudged up the stairs and into the bathroom, the shower turning on moments later. Booker and the others stayed downstairs, infected by your silence.

Andy offered Booker a bottle. He reached for it, hesitated, shook his head. Arching an eyebrow, she pulled from it herself.

Booker kept an ear toward the shower, listening to the shower splash differently as you moved. The others watched him, exchanging glances with each other.

Nile broke the silence. “Will she be okay?”

Booker frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t have a mission. Isn’t that what she was trained to do? Always follow a mission? I mean, she was doing that when she brought you to Quynh, wasn’t she?”

The shower turned off. Booker heard you cross softly across the floor.

“She’s free,” he murmured, “and she’s strong.”

“What about you?”

The question shook him. What about him? He hadn’t thought about it since he returned to the States to break you out.

Overhead, he heard a door shut quietly, a mattress squeak.

“I’m going to help her, if she’ll have me,” he answered.

~~

Despite his exhaustion, Booker didn’t sleep that night. He rose early and made breakfast for everyone, including himself, after venturing into town to buy groceries.

You were the first to descend the stairs. Sunlight had yet to dispel the early morning darkness. Booker snapped to attention as you approached him. You looked rested, perhaps more so than he had ever seen you. Something about the softness of lingering sleep on your face made Booker’s heart trip.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you answered. Sitting at the table, you dug gratefully into the plate of food: eggs, oatmeal, bacon, toast. Booker had given you a triple portion, remembering the last time you had scarfed food down.

“I was thinking,” you began, then hesitated. Jabbing at the bacon with your fork, you asked, “Did you do the other thing I asked you to?”

Booker nodded and fished the flash drive out of his pocket. He had palmed it into a USB port on Howzer’s computer, pretending to delete the files when instead he had transferred them over. You took it from him with a delicate touch, as though afraid to break it.

“Do you think there are any left?”

Booker’s chest ached at the sound of your voice cracking. “I saw a lot of names.”

“But are they alive? No, don’t tell me. I’ll find out.” You pocketed the flash drive and resumed eating. “So, what’s the deal with you and the others?”

“I still have ninety-nine years.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry. What will you do?”

He sat down across from you, not quite meeting your gaze. “I was hoping…you wouldn’t mind having me around.”

The fork paused halfway to your mouth. You gaped at him, jaw slack. He would have laughed if not for his anxiety over your answer.

Lowering the fork, you cleared your throat. “No…”

Booker felt like bricks had hit him over the head. He glanced away, stared down at his hands. What had he expected? That you might think of him as more than anything than the guy who had been part of a mission?

“I wouldn’t mind.”

He jerked his head back up. You met his gaze levelly, a tentative smile on your lips. Relief coursed through him, better than anything he could think of. Raking a hand over the back of his neck, he struggled to fight the grin pulling at his mouth.

“If I catch you drinking, I will shank you with the bottle,” you told him.

“I believe you.”

“Good. Now, where do you think we should start?”

“Here,” he answered, and he leaned forward to kiss you.

[thesevendeadlydorks]

Howzer A-Z (✦)

Hey so i figured I would try making an a-z alphabet for Howzer (since there’s not a lot out there for him) and the “✦” means nsfw so proceed with caution. Hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want another character done!

 A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Howzer would be caring towards his s/o but I feel like he would also be wiped out. So he would check to make sure you’re all good, and then go right to sleep.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part would probably be his hands. *cough* “Just lie back and leave everything to my magic hands. I promise it won’t hurt. I’m gonna make you feel like you’re flying.” *cough*

His favorite body part on his partner would either be his s/o’s legs or chest.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Howzer loves to have his s/o cum at least once before he does. It gives him a sense of satisfaction and prevents him from feeling guilty later on.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Howzer has always wanted to have a threesome with Gil. Not with Margaret, as he would be way too nervous about touching her, but with whomever Howzer is dating at the time, and as long as Gil and his s/o are cool with it. (There’s a 99% chance Gilthunder is NOT)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Howzer’s gotten around a bit. He knows what he’s doing but isn’t an expert. Basically hes average.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

I feel like Howzer would like one that either involves sitting or up against a wall. But ones where he has control.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

There’s almost always a little bit of humor when Howzer is involved with anything. Unless he just returned from a mission, in which case he’s more serious.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps it groomed relatively well, its not wild but its also not gone. He cares a lot about the hair that can be seen everyday, so why not take care of the hair that can’t?

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Howzer can be super romantic if the situation calls for it. (One of the first few times y’all have done it, an anniversary, or holiday.) But most of the time there’s a bit of a goofy yet concentrated aspect to it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation head canon)

If he’s not in a relationship or he’s off on a mission then he probably jacks off about four to five times a week. If he’s in a relation ship then two times a week maximum.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Howzer LOVES lingerie. He loves seeing it on his s/o, he loves his s/o teasing him with it, he loves everything about it. It doesn’t matter if he’s in charge or his s/o is in charge, if his s/o is in lingerie then he’s down.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He mostly sticks to the bed, but he’s always wanted to do it in the boar hat or in a secret room of Liones castle.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Mostly boobs. (Why do you think he had Diane hid hers during the fighting festival?)

OR if his s/o says something to him when they’re around other  people.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Howzer would absolutely do nothing to hurt his s/o. No bondage, no blood, nothing of that sort. Although he would still use blindfolds.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Honestly, he prefers receiving but would go down if his s/o really wants to. But Howzer works hard, sometimes he just wants to sit back and let someone else do the work while he doesn’t have to worry about hurting or pleasing them.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s pretty fast. It’s not like he means to do it, it just happens. If his s/o said something to him he would do his best to slow down, but he just gets so lost in his own world that he forgets sometimes. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s SO down for quickies. Got five minutes before he has to leave for work? What’s a better way to fill the time? Have to meet everyone at the boar hat soon? How ‘bout a round sober and a round drunk? He’s always down.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Howzer’s not too big on experimenting, he’s willing to try some things for his s/o but he does have boundaries.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

At most he can last one or two rounds. Give him like thirty minutes and a few ales and he’ll be good for a round three, though.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

The only ‘toy’ Howzer owns is a blindfold, and he only uses that on his s/o. He’d be down to use any of the ones his s/o owns though. (On them not him.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Howzer teases quite a bit. The only reason he wouldn’t is if that round is a quickie.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make?)

Howzer is fairly loud, mostly cursing and grunting.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

If Howzer had to sleep with any of the sins (besides Diane) he would probably choose Meliodas. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Howzer’s about seven inches in length and has a fairly decent amount of girth,  although Gil has him beat by length and Griamore has him beat in girth, but he’s got a nice balance. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Probably one of the highest sex drives out of everyone in the series. Meliodas is the only one to have him beat out of the guys.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can fall asleep almost immediately, unless he has prior engagements or his s/o needs something.