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the-strength-of-the-wolffe · 3 months

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Looking at “Rising Malevolence” and “Mercy Mission” together, you can see how much Wolffe and Sinker evolve over the course of four seasons. What’s fascinating to me is that their character arcs move in opposite directions.

"Rising Malevolence" brings them face-to-face with death for the first time; they couldn’t be in a worse situation. Of the four survivors, Wolffe is the most vulnerable and the least useful. Nevertheless, he stands fast. His strong spirit enables him to put forth his best conduct: he’s steady, trusting, even good-humored. Sinker is not. His spirit has been depressed for a long time already, so he can’t help succumbing to negativity in the heat of the moment.

The massacre roots a new fear in both of them: fear of loss. It’s their responsibility to keep their men alive, and yet they both failed. What’s to stop it from happening again? They have no control over who survives and who doesn’t, when and where and how their troopers will die, whether it’ll be a few casualties or an entire battalion.

Amidst this fear, both of them are confronted by Plo Koon. A general who vows to share that responsibility with them. Who, through actions and not just words, commits to the kind of leadership that not only values their men’s survival but also their wellbeing.

This is the crossroads where their arcs diverge.

Sinker, against all his instincts, vices, and traumas, decides to trust General Plo. It doesn’t come easily, or all at once, but, as the Jedi continues to make good on his promise, he learns to ease up. Gradually, his spirit heals and grows stronger. By “Mercy Mission,” he’s noticeably more lighthearted, invested, and confident: a man transformed for the better.

Wolffe, however, can’t let go of his fear. It’s proportionally greater than Sinker’s; he has lost, and stands to lose, much more. He does trust General Plo, deeply, but he also harbors the disturbing knowledge that the Jedi isn’t invincible. For all his power, General Plo can still die—and that can’t happen. The 104th would go adrift without him, so he must be protected at all costs. Wolffe takes up this extra burden in secret. He becomes vigilant, overprotective, strained, insular. He won't acknowledge it, but his spirit is staggering under the weight. “Mercy Mission” shows us a glimpse of this transformation: a man who’s bone-weary and so preoccupied with the status of his absent comrades that he has no patience or sympathy for the Aleena.

Maybe it was never in the cards for him, to be healthy and flourishing and secure. Maybe his path would've always led down a darker road than Sinker's despite experiencing the same profound kindness. It's such a shame, for if any clone needed a little hope, it's him. I'm halfway through his story now, the beginning of the end, and he's about to enter the darkest valley of his life.

#the clone wars #commander wolffe #sinker #wolfpack #wolfpack headcanons #wolffe's story #clones #season 4 #rising malevolence #mercy mission #ignore me just crying a little #i've been dreading this #the pain he's about to go through #everyone he's going to lose #truly his valley of the shadow of death

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ahhlehlehlehleh · 1 year

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#*buir = parent in Mando'a/language of the Mandalorians #plo koon #jango fett #I just really wanted to redraw the sarcastically surprised captain kirk meme but with plo koon flexing his love for his sons #star wars #clone wars #tcw #comet #boost #wolffe #sinker #i don't actually know how comet looks like #i tired searching and i couldn't find #apologies if i am wrong #a me doodle

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gamelpar · 7 months

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wolfpack text posts because i love this found family

#star wars #tcw #plo koon #commander wolffe #boost #sinker #ahsoka tano #wolfpack #text posts #text post meme #my edits

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loverboy-havocboy · 2 months

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character designs for the aliit au are finally done!!

#clone trooper comet #clone commando gregor #captain gregor #clone trooper boost #clone trooper sinker #aliit au art #aliit au #havocboydraws #comet #boost #sinker #clone art #clone wars au #clone honkers

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clownbloody · 24 days

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Sinker...WOOF when they have graying hair 💞😍💞😍💞😍💞

Tag List:

@bigbi4322 @eyecandyeoz @padawancat97 @yeehawgeek @argentinian-witch @atomickidsoul @keantha @mybrainislostinagalaxyfarfaraway @rispple-blog @dangraccoon @stardusthuntress @kratosfan6632466

#star wars #starwars #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #sw tcw fanart #tcw #the clone wars #sinker #clone trooper sinker #tcw sinker #wolfpack #104th battalion #clone trooper #clone thirsting #clone kisses

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bibannana · 10 months

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Comet *jumps out from behind a gunship holding a cake*: Happy birthday Commander!

Wolffe *monotonously*: Ah. You surprised me.

Sinker *rolls his eyes*: At least act suprised.

Wolffe *doesn't hesitate*: If I was surprised you would be on the floor with a dislocated arm-

Boost *blinks*: W-what?

Wolffe *letting Plo strap a part hat to his helmet*: My reflexes are just that good.

Plo *nods*: Oh course they are son. Now let us sing you happy birthday.

Taglist: @sexy-rex @nekotaetae @jiabeewrites @staycalmandhugaclone @soliloquy-of-nemo

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staycalmandhugaclone · 4 months

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Identity Pt 2

Part (2) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Thought about holding onto this another night, but I could use some dopamine after some work bs that happened today (which is also why I only barely started catching up on all the comments and tags today before going quiet again... sorry - I'll try to respond to everyone tomorrow ❤️). It's only lightly proofread, and I'm apparently favoring shorter chapters currently. Also, I finished this from my phone, so sorry if formatting got weird

Warnings: Brotherly fighting, talk of hunting, nightmares with reference to gore/torture, heavy tension, profanity

WC: 2,379

“I knew you’d done something!” Sinker shouted, hand lashing out to roughly push Boost’s shoulder hard enough to nearly knock him from the couch. Boost was laughing too hard to defend himself, with Comet and I not far behind at the retelling of the Sergent’s unfortunate encounter with a slew of too curious gorgs. The thought of the stern man being relentlessly assaulted by the small, brightly colored amphibians, utterly oblivious to the pungent pheromone his brother had slathered on his armor as he trudged through the swamps of Naboo was a gift in itself.

“It… it was just a drop!” Boost barely managed to respond.

“Where’d you even get it?” Comet asked, voice strained as he tried to compose himself.

“It was… it was all over the markets – easiest way to hunt them.”

The lights were still too bright and the seats too soft, but the familiarity of this, of carefree laughter and unapologetic teasing was the perfect balm to an ache I’d nearly grown accustomed to. I sat lounging against Comet on a love seat caddy corner to where Boost and Sinker were seconds away from a one-sided brawl despite how near they were to the table holding their long forgotten, disassembled blasters. Wolffe had vanished elsewhere in the ship after relinquished the pilot’s chair to Warthog, decidedly ignoring the man’s grumbles about the apparently lacking capabilities of the civi transport, and Sinker had volunteered the explanation that the General was too well known to join us lest his presence attract the wrong attention.

“Hey, hey!” I cried out when Sinker’s foot bumped the table, darting forward to grab the corner before it could fall. “If you knock this down, I’m not helping you find all the pieces!” The attempt at a feigned reprimand was lost beneath the richness of my lingering glee. Boost sent his brother a toothy grin that only worsened the man’s scowl as he reluctantly returned his attention to his weapon.

“He doesn’t listen to me when I try to get him to get him to calm down.” Comet’s grumbled murmur drew a final chuckle from me as I pressed fondly against him. “It’s late. We should probably turn in.” He sighed after a few seconds of stillness, and I tried not to note the way my heart dropped.

“Yeah.” I relented, fighting the way my jaw threatened to tense at the thought of forcing myself to close my eyes, of the noises awaiting me in the coming silence. With a deep breath, I leaned away from the gentle man at my back, ignoring the brief moment of hesitation, the way I could feel his gaze linger on me as I got to my feet.

The ship was designed to allow each passenger their own room, but that privacy had thoughtlessly been forgone in favor of using those rooms for additional storage. The minimal space allotted for each hastily installed, wall mounted cot was a thing I’d long since become accustomed to with these men and spared no hesitation before taking the bunk below Sinker’s, but rest refused to grant me escape.

It was strange not having Crosshair’s arms around me, not hearing Wrecker’s snores or seeing the faint glow of Tech’s datapad. This squad would always have my love and trust, but the familiar sense of home no longer resonated in their presence, and after everything that had happened in the past months, I found myself desperate for that comfort long after noting the unmistakable cadence of sleep lengthening their breaths, and forced my eyes closed if only to feign joining them.

It's not real.

Crimson coated my hands.

It’s not real.

Blackened skin marked exactly where my pistol fire tore between the joints.

“This is your fault.”

Wet coughs sent waves of blood spilling down his chin.

Please tell me this isn’t real.

It didn’t matter how hard I pressed against the gaping wound in his chest.

“You did this.”

How tightly I bound the tourniquet.

“Traitor.”

How certain I was that this isn’t how it happened as the echo of dislocating fingers reverberated sickeningly around me.

Stop, stop, stop, stop.

False memories of my fist slamming into my brother’s face orchestrated by endless apologies.

“I’m not your brother.”

The look of hatred in his eyes as my finger tightened around the trigger.

“Ple-”

My body jerked violently away from the hand settling lightly atop my arm, diaphragm seizing to drag air into lungs burning with suffocation as my head snapped around in search of the source of that touch. And I froze. There was such stillness in those mismatched eyes as he looked at me, a silent understanding that threatened to break what miserable grip I had on keeping the sobs at bay.

Without a word, he stood back, shoulders weighted beneath the same sorrow and regret I knew I’d never be free of, face carefully neutral as he started silently toward the cockpit. I glanced hesitantly over the familiar forms lying atop the cots across from me, relieved to find no signs that I’d woken them in my fit before forcing myself to take several deep breaths and pushing myself to my feet.

Wolffe didn’t look at me as I slipped into the copilot’s seat, knees automatically tucking to my chest. The controls were different, the colors of the panels and the shape of the viewport nothing like the GAR ship we once frequented, but that feeling, the unrushed quiet between us as our thoughts settled and we felt drawn to speak for the comfort of connection in the stead of some need to fill the silence with empty, frantic words… there was such gentleness in that feeling that I couldn’t help but let the tension begin to slip from my stiff form.

“What happened?” He didn’t turn from the dancing hues of blue illuminating the darkness of space as his voice hung softly in the filtered air.

“A lot.” I whispered, granting myself a moment longer to remember how to speak, how to condense the need to purge everything, every violent emotion and overwhelming memory into words and sentences. “My brother’s dead.” From the corner of my eyes, I saw the initial surge of grief hesitantly shift into confusion, brows pulling subtly together though he didn’t push me to explain.

“He enlisted… or was drafted, I don’t know how exactly, but…” I watched that grief return in an instant, jaw tensing as his eyes closed.

“Devaron.” I should have been surprised, should have found myself wondering over the simple fact that he was familiar enough with my past missions to reach that conclusion, but it was almost a relief to not have to explain further, replying only with a small nod.

“I’m sorry.” His voice quieted, lips just threatening to pull into a scowl as his mind worked over what he’d just learned.

“I tried to save him… but I didn’t realize who he was until it was too late. He…” My throat tightened, and I had to let out a slow breath before I could continue. “He blamed me… When he saw me in that armor…” I found myself shaking my head as I shifted to rest my chin atop my knees. “He hated me, Wolffe…” That barely murmured sentence lingered far too long after tumbling from my lips, and I felt it grow heavier with each second of silence that followed.

“You want me to tell you it wasn’t your fault?” There could have been a harsh bluntness to those words. They could have been filled with boredom or impatience or pity, but they weren’t. He asked only because he thought I needed to hear the question, to hear how doubtless he was in his own conviction that I might remember how to breathe before my guilt destroyed me.

“No.” I answered quietly. Still, logic offered little comfort in the face of raw emotion. “But that doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”

“Your brother died.” He stated simply, and my chest bucked at hearing that horrible truth spoken by another. “You’re not going to feel better. Not for a long time.” I knew how clearly the sorrow shone through my eyes as I finally turned to look at him, and I hated him for the honesty in his words just as much as I loved him for offering no false hope or empty platitudes.

“And your last mission? Can’t say I believe Hunter’s excuse of your ship needing repairs.”

“Clearly.” I retorted, glancing pointedly at the ship around us, but the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver, unphased by my feigned jab, and I had to turn away, teeth catching at my lip.

“One of my men got caught.” My voice sank into a quiet whisper, as though it might keep me from hearing my own words as I forced myself to answer him. “He was trapped. I don’t even think the guy who was did it was even a Separatists… pretty sure he was just a merc.” My tongue dragged haltingly over suddenly dry lips, heart racing at the memory of that fight; and the screams still echoing over the low hum of the engines.

“He wouldn’t free him… wouldn’t tell me how to get him out… not until I made him tell me.” Jaw taut beneath the effort to keep my breath steady, I turned back to him. “You want to tell me that wasn’t my fault, either? That I had no choice other than to torture him? That I couldn’t have found a way to cut the power or bribe him or hold off until help arrived?” It infuriated me how perfectly still Wolffe remained, expression locked in that passive stare.

“Do you think I give a damn that you tortured some money-hungry civi to save a brother? You think I’d do any less to save you? That any of us would do any less?”

“Do you think granting me permission makes me feel less like a monster?” I shot back, unable to chase the hint of a snarl from my face.

“This is war, kid.” He replied, a gentle apology woven through the softly spoken words. I felt the urge to snap at him threatening to wrench my lips into a scowl, felt my heart balk at the simplicity of his statement and how crudely that simplicity contrasted with the horrors it represented, but I allowed no reprieve in vying for some way to deny myself the forgiveness implied in that putrid truth, no release of my fury and guilt and hatred by arguing purely for the sake of flinging shouted insults absent thought beyond the base need to lash out.

I could feel him watching me as I forced myself back under some façade of control, but something seemed to shift, a heaviness that held the same tension I’d noted in him the day prior, and I found myself quieting my breath as I waited for him to speak.

“And the thing with the toothpick… how long’s that been going on?” It took barely a second to realize what he meant, what he knew, and my entire body froze, eyes widening as the air caught in my chest, mind racing too quickly for me to grasp onto a single thought long enough to make sense of the waves of dread and guilt and confusion.

“Closet doors don’t hide thermo-signatures.” He explained, voice carefully void of emotion, and my heart dropped. The damn closet. Cody must have already planned to speak to Wolffe immediately after his meeting with me to confirm the mission status… Of course, he would have been nearby…

“I… I don’t think that’s any of your business, Wolffe.” I said quietly, trying to force some measure of indifference into my voice.

“Is that so?” There was a darkness in those short words as he shifted just enough to catch my gaze from the corner of that pale cybernetic.

“No.” I stated more firmly, back straightening as I turned fully toward him. “It hasn’t been for a while… not since you let them take off this squad.” His brows drew together above eyes failing to hide the beginnings of anger.

“Is that what you think happened?” He asked, shoulders pulling back slightly.

“Isn’t it?” This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with him. These thoughts and fears and insecurities were never meant to be given breath, yet I couldn’t seem to stop them lest the conversation return to something far more dangerous.

“Did you ever tell them ‘no’?” The instant I saw the flash of remorse dart through him, I felt something break in me as I realized I was right. “Did you even try to fight for me?” I barely whispered as a fresh surge of devastation flooded my veins with ice. He didn’t need to speak for his answer to scream between us, and I couldn’t begin to hide the betrayal and raw hurt left in its wake.

“You didn’t… You just let them…” Some vain hope for denial forbade me from finishing the thoughts, silently pleading for him to prove me wrong, but he offered no whisper of reassurance.

“You were all I had, Wolffe…” I could hear how the words clawed up my throat amidst tears I refused to let fall. “I was… I was so… so scared, and you just let them take me away?” He refused to turn from me as the reality I thought I knew shattered. I wanted to ask “why,” wanted to shout and rage and sob, but that time had long since passed. Drawing a sharp, unsteady breath into my lungs, I finally turned from him, gaze trailing blindly across the control panel.

“No… What I do now… who I spend my time with… it’s none of your business.” It felt as though I were talking more to myself than to him, and the new silence that fell between us held none of that gentle familiarity that had seen me through some the worst moments of my life. For the first time, I couldn’t bring myself to stay, every cell demanding I flee from his presence. With another deep breath, I pushed myself to my feet, unable to even glance at him as I began walking away.

Next Chapter

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dukeoftheblackstar · 3 months

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Art by Ren. [please credit me or the artist if you want to repost/use. I don't mind :D]

May I present to you, the 104th Battalion, the Wolfpack, the fearsome fruits feature fearsome fruit daddy, Plo.

-> Plo Koon, Wolffe, Boost, Sinker, Wildfire, Comet, Warthog, Tracker

I have been on the munchies for strawberries lately, so I figured I'd turn all my beautiful baby boys into edible goodness. And because I have no self control, it started of with my OC, Duchess and viola! Them boys!

I am Mama Strawberry ♥.

Also, special thanks to @omaano for materializing 'my canon' look for Warthog ♥ I actually used your art as reference for this to have the artist draw them like you did HERE.

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toska-writes · 1 year

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There are not nearly enough of the clones being amazing big brothers so I’m here to change it :) please enjoy

“Braids”

Summary: You struggle trying to braid your hair while on your way to help oversee an important senate meeting off world. Frustrated you seek out some help in this fight.

Paring: Commander Wolffe x Padawan Reader (platonic obviously)

Warning: just so much fluff!

Word count: 937

Read here on ao3! (✩)

Ori’vod- Older brother

Cyare- Beloved

Why did this have to be so hard? You didn’t understand. You caught your eye in the mirror under the rats nest that was now your hair.

You definitely couldn’t show your face to a room of senators looking like you’d just walked through a nasty campaign.

You swore quickly under your breath before you took up the brush once again, at least to get the hair somewhat normal before you leave your own quarters. You could already here your ori’vods suppressed giggles now trying to be “polite” since you are their padawan commander.

The woosh of the door slid open, you stomped your way down the halls with a crushing grip around the hairbrush. Did you really know where you were going? No- but you knew where you could go to complain and honestly that’s what you needed

“Hello commander” A shiny- one you haven’t been met to yet stood and gave a formal nod as you entered. You’ll have to introduce yourself later because now you were on a mission.

Heavy boots sounded from somewhere deeper into the barracks until you herd the unmistakable voice of- “Y/N! Y/N!” “Commander” Sinker and Boost bounded into the room stoping a few feet in front of you noticing something was up

“What’s wrong commander?” Boost stepped forward first.

“It’s- well stupid now that I think about it, but have you seen Wolffe anywhere?”

“I hope you don’t plan to beat him to death with your hairbrush sir.” Sinker joked now slinking his arm around your shoulder, relieved that nothing totally serious was wrong.

You laughed, a smile easing back into your face. “No no, I just though he could help me.”

Boost opened his mouth again but before he could get his next word out the presence of their commanding officer in the doorway shut him up quickly.

“You needed me for something commander?” His deep voice filled your ears, you rolled your eyes knowing that title all clones should be using to address someone of your status he used to playfully annoy you.

“Mmhm.” You nodded walking up to the looming guy leaning against the barracks’s wall. This conversation was most definitely catching the attention of the rest of the pack weather it was obvious they were listening or not.

You held out the hairbrush and flashed your wrist adorned with rubber bands at him. It was his turn for his signature eye roll. “I though you caught on well when I showed you the first time.” He said in a low voice.

“Ok well it’s much harder on yourself.” You mock pouted crossing your arms. “Please? I don’t want to look like bantha poo when we touch down.”

“Fine cyare.” He sighed, anyone who could have over heard this would never have guest it would have been between on the the best commanders in the GAR and the padawan of very well respected Jedi.

Sinker and Boost laugh as the three of you followed Wolffe over to a couch that decorated the barrack giving it a more “homely” feel.

Wolffe gestured to the floor in front of his place on the couch, Sinker taking the floor next to you and Boost lounging over the other side of the cushion.

You could feel the callus of his fingers not yet hidden by the gloves almost everyone wears across you scalp. He was quite quick, already parting your hair down the middle and begun the braid at the crown of your head.

You glanced over at Boost as he watched in awe at Wolffe laughing to yourself as he was absolutely blowed away.

“How did you learn to do that?” He questioned looking to his older brother.

“You pick up a few things” Wolffe said bluntly not letting his concentration waved

Now Sinker was up observing as well. Wolfee gently tapped your shoulder and held in palm out towards you. You quickly put an elastic in his hand as he secured the bottom of the braid.

He already started the other side as you said. “You’ll definitely have to teach me a second time.”

You heard the small laugh that escaped his lips. A sound to any other person outside of the Wolffe Pack would mistake as maybe a sigh or small cough was, to you a sound you wanted to hear your dear commander make more of.

“Of course sir.”

His hands swiftly made its was to the back of your head and down brushing past your shoulders. Another rap at your shoulder another elastic was presented to the solider sat behind you.

He patted the top of your head before announcing, “Done” as the four of you stood up.

“Looking good sir.” Boost praised looking at the top of your head.

You made your way towards a mirror hanging on the wall. You smiled at your reflection, your hair did look amazing buts that’s not why you were smiling. The giddy faces of Sinker and Boost stared back at you and the sly smile of Commander Wolffe caught yours in the mirror.

You turned swiftly looking up. “Thank you Wolffe I love it.”

“Of course commander.” He leaned in then added “I wouldn’t be a very good ori’vod if I couldn’t braid hair as good as I could shoot a blaster.”

You laughed at his comment reaching up to swing your arm around his shoulder, walking to join some others that still lounged in the barracks waitingfor the ship to touch down once again.

#commander wolffe #clone wars wolffe #star wars #wolffe x reader #platonic #104th battalion #wolffe pack #star wars clone wars #clone wars #sinker #toska-writes #reader insert

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ladyanidala · 4 months

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Merry Chrysler! :D

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the-strength-of-the-wolffe · 5 months

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Finally! I get to share my headcanons about this loveable piece-of-work, my boy Sinker.

Like Boost, he didn't choose his name; their batchmates came up with it because of his pessimism, a quirk that stress exacerbated (more on that below).

He was a reluctant “older” brother—not naturally responsible or nurturing but arbitrarily chosen to be in charge of his batchmates by their superiors. Although it felt unfair at the time, it’s the reason he’s a sergeant at the start of the war.

One of their trainers didn't get on with him (personality clash) and took every opportunity to beat him down. He put on a front of insolent indifference, but the harsh words (on top of Kaminoan indoctrination) eroded his spirit, leading him to develop that famously bleak estimation of himself and all clones.

For an engineered soldier, stress had an unusually adverse effect on him. It didn’t just sway his mood; by young adulthood, his hair started to thin and show gray roots. He couldn't stomach shaving it off, nor admit his shame by dyeing it black, so his solution was to dye it entirely gray and pretend to own it.

Needless to say, he isn’t in the healthiest frame of mind as we meet him in “Rising Malevolence.” He has a callousness about him that strikes me as a defense mechanism. Sadly, he doesn't take General Plo's words to heart that day. In fact, he isn't sure what to make of the General for some time.

If he had met Wolffe under any other circumstances, they wouldn't have become friends; they're too different, and Sinker is nothing if not realistic. Suffering the massacre together, and later rebuilding the 104th, bonds them like nothing else could. Even though rank and duties often keep them apart now, they hold fast to that bond.

He tries to move past the loss of his old squad by falling back on cadethood excuses ("I didn't want this job!") and cold memorized truths ("that's the reality of war"), but the horror and guilt get to him on occasion. For a while, he's at turns distant and aggressively protective toward his new squad.

He takes an immediate disliking to Comet, regarding him as a liability at best and a threat to the squad's safety at worst. Truthfully, he sees a bit of himself in the rookie (that defensive apathy), and he hates it. The tension between them erupts one day into physical violence, which he immaturely instigates. The brawl puts a bad mark on his record (and is my explanation for why he doesn't seem to climb any higher in rank). However, by coming to blows, the two of them are able to confront their issues with each other. Gradually, they work toward a more amiable relationship.

His personal beliefs and his mixed feelings about General Plo come to a head during a dangerous search-and-rescue operation. When half his squad (including Boost) become trapped in a damaged building, he fully expects he'll have to leave them to prioritize civilians, a prospect he suddenly finds chilling. To his shock, Wolffe and the General converge at once, the former taking over evacuations while the latter goes after the troopers. In the end, not a single one is lost.

Because of this harrowing event, he realizes first how much he cares about his men, what their lives are worth to him (not expendable!), and second that he's not alone in feeling that way—General Plo meant what he said. He still has some qualms about the General (e.g. the health considerations are a source of stress), but his love language is acts of service, and the General's tremendous act of saving his squad wins him over.

From this point onward, he's able to shoulder his responsibilities with less fear, and that confidence does wonders for him. He really evolves as a character—just look at how different he is in "Mercy Mission"! (I've got a separate post about this in the works: contrasting his arc with Wolffe's.) He doesn't lose all of his rough edges, of course (he can still get nasty when stressed, and be rather angsty at times), but overall he rounds out to be a tough, conscientious, steadfast individual.

His sense of humor, however, does not improve.

#the clone wars #sinker #wolfpack #wolfpack headcanons #boost #comet #commander wolffe #plo koon #clones

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 9 months

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The Clone Wars 4x5 'Mercy Mission' Reaction

eeeeeeeeeeee Wolffe!

Omg he’s so grumpy and done with everything and long suffering already I love him so much

You can tell from the first word he says. That “We’ve” was basically sighed with so much disgruntlement.

Ahahahaha he’s so pissed that he’s not there supporting Plo. Why has my General been left by himself? *humph* That is barely concealed displeasure that he’s been diverted from his duties. Wolffe said ‘Orders’ in such a particular tone that made it pretty damn clear how pissed he is. He’s so grumpy. I love him.

How often do the clones interact with Senators? Or at least Padmé? I should imagine Rex and Cody would more than others (Rex is probably so done with Anakin pretending to be subtle) but this feels like the first time I’ve seen a clone directly report to a Senator.

I’m again struck by just how Aussie the clones sound. Or maybe Generic Antipodean/slightly British at best. That is not a Kiwi accent. Give the clones the Kiwi accent they deserve.

That shot of the ships in space flying over the curved edge of the planet with a sun in the background feels like a homage to something. 2001: A Space Odyssey? That’s usually what gets referenced. The music here is gorgeous.

This is probably going to be a very unpopular opinion but it kind of feels like the clones are being a bit dickish to the droids? Please don’t eat me alive

Omg the LAAT/i’s have nose cone art of Plo and his troopers. I think I’ve seen this in previous episode's but I still love seeing it again.

“Greeeeeeaaaaaaaat, it’s gonna be another one of those planets.” omg I love you random clone trooper pilot. They’re all so grumpy. The entire Wolf Pack is just so grumpy. Maybe that’s a prerequisite for being part of the Wolf Pack. Eternal grumpiness.

My god Wolffe, that is some jaw line

“Ah, did you get that?” ahahahaha the dryness of that line. Insert your cliches about being drier than Tatooine here.

OMG THE EYE ROLL I AM SCREECHING

That is some Star Trek bridge shaking level acting going on in the after shock

Ugh he’s so gruff and rough and just ugh do me commander

“We’re good, but not that good.” ahahaha the sarcasm is off the charts

Oh hey Sinker is still around! Hey Sinker!

Do all of the Wolf Pack have the same paint? Usually it’s fairly easy to tell between the different clones but I can’t spot the differences as well with them. Maybe it’s the grey paint? I think Sinker has grey sections on the bottom of his helmet but the rest of his armour seems to be the same as the rest of the Wolf Pack. They all have the same patterned left pauldron.

Oh hey it’s Boost as well! Hey Boost! I hope he and Sinker and Wolffe and Plo are doing ok after the Malevolence. Ok doesn’t feel like the right word for what happened to them but I can’t think of the right one. Wookieepedia has just informed me that the Malevolence was inspired by the Bismarck, which makes sense.

Back to the paint of the Wolf Pack, Boost has grey spikes under the horizontal section of his visor but that’s the only difference I can spot. At least it’s better than his hair XD

Lmao Boost could you be any more trigger happy

Omg after Boost kicks open the door, the shot pans up and Sinker is just standing there like a model, slightly bent knee and all.

I love how much you can tell that Wolffe takes absolutely no shit just from the way he moves and carries himself.

Omg the sneer over his shoulder. If he glared at me like that my knees would absolutely buckle.

“Do I need this?” CACKLING

“A firm hand.” I bet that’s not the only place where Wolffe has a firm hand omg help me the thots are taking over

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Star Wars cliche klaxon

I’m only noticing this because I remember a post pointing this out but Wolffe really does waddle in his kama. The poor man definitely has back problems. He's so stiff.

I love the way that Aleena takes a moment to realise they’ve been left with Wolffe and suddenly has this ridiculously exaggerated horrified and terrified expression on their face before fleeing.

It’s the Ents! Does that make R2-D2 and C-3PO Merry and Pippin?

Is Orphne supposed to be some kind of alien villainous femme fatale? Gestures matching words? What is this, a high school theatre production?

Fire. Soil. Water. What is this, a Captain Planet reference?

R2 did you just pee on Orphne’s floor?!

The vapours! *faints*

OMG THE EYE ROLL AGAIN! SCREAMING EVERY TIME. Wolffe is So. Done. I love him.

The music is beautiful here too. The Kiner’s did such a good job.

EYE ROLL VOLUME 3. I am WHEEZING

That’s Boost and Sinker standing next to Wolffe with two very understanding tilts of their buckets.

Ah, so that’s where the gifs of Wolffe wincing comes from. Also, Sir, those are some seriously sharp cheekbones.

“I couldn’t agree more, Sir.” Sinker being the very supportive Sergeant there.

Look at Wolffe standing there all sassy with his hand on his hip and blaster.

Including this gif for the look down and up. There is something about Wolffe that is just uuuuuuuuuuuuuugh

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