#tcw warthog

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Poets and Painters (Golden Dawn Part 2) - Wolffe x Reader [Mature Fic]

Warnings and Information: In desperate need of just one day to take his and his men's mind off the war, Plo Koon orders that everyone make a stop on a relatively uninhabited planet in a peaceful sector of the galaxy to… have a picnic? Just what does he have in mind? A certain flint-gray Commander is finding it hard to believe that they're just on the planet for a day of R&R in the middle of a war, so he isn't letting his guard down. Perhaps someone will help Commander Wolffe find some way to help him relax before the day is over… 2nd person POV. Reader is undescribed save for minor details like personal touches to a uniform, and has a gender-neutral alias. Allusions to canon-typical violence, mention of injury and loss. Plo just being a dad to the 104th Battalion in the background. Swearing. Scheming brothers. Brief miscommunications. Mutual pining? 👀 Discussion of more adult themes and some lewd jokes (this is not an Explicit fic but it is Mature; Minors please DNI). Takes place on a fictional planet.

Word-count: 6,743

It did not take little Mir long to find several samples of art and poetry to share with the cluster of curious on-lookers that have grown around her sister while she prepares bundles of incense and dried flowers. Petals and dried leaves are taken in clusters of twenty-seven before being tied tightly with twine, and carefully passed over the fire to the individual by name. Among the first bundles she gives, one is offered to Plo Koon, who has joined you since Mir had to ask for Solladara’s help in finding a particular piece of poetry and it interrupted their discussion. 

“This is for you, Plo Koon.” 

“That is kind of you. Thank you, young Gi.” the Jedi professes his thanks once he’s able to extract one of his occupied hands, more of the Chossi children than before sitting around him or in his lap, now. He has nowhere to put it, for the time being, so while you’re busy reading some of the poetry Mir found, Commander Wolffe takes his general’s bundle of incense and finds a place for it in one of the many compartments in his utility belt. 

The Basic that’s carved into thin sheets of bark may be slightly broken and disjointed, but the verbal painting performed here is no less incredible. So… is it really the doing of the Dinocaeruleus anthos that everyone’s been so… inspired? The mere pollen in the air, where that pleasant and faintly familiar smell has followed you all day long, is responsible for all this?

All the sketches, the thoughtful conversations you’ve had today, even the thoughts you’ve been having about the commander, that could all be the influence of the pollen? You’re not sure how you feel about that. Stars above, you live in such a strange galaxy…

“It will only be effective for those who reach maturity.” Mir’s older sister explains to her curious onlookers and those fielding questions, like Tack, preparing a new incense bundle that will be given to you to take back to the Jedi cruiser. “To those who have not reached maturity, like Mir, the pollen and petal incense will only smell sweet.”

Beside you, you hear Tack now quietly mourning that it will only ever smell nice for poor Orchid under his breath. Orchid snarls back at him to shut up, saying that that was a cheap shot. He can be plenty mature! He is so fuckin' mature, thank you! 

“If you're talking about your language and your choice of reading material, sure… Now pipe down, both of you. Don't be rude to Gi!” Suds mutters, wagging his head disapprovingly of both brothers’ behaviors. “Sorry about them…” 

Gi offers only an impish smile, finding humor in the brothers’ bickering. “It won't work for Mir. But, it would work for you, Arcadia, and Wolffe.” she adds with a nod, offering him his own bundle of anthos incense. “I will make some for your brothers, too. If they are interested.”

“That’s very kind of you, Gi.” Wolffe answers as he pockets his own bundle beside General Plo’s, nodding to show his gratitude for the generosity of your hosts here. The members of their community that were once cold and standoffish before to the battalion have since thawed out some more, making further offers to show elements of their culture, their homeland here with you as off-worlders. 

We’re all just the universe trying to make sense of itself. Shouldn’t that be enough to unify us? Wouldn’t it be nice if that was all it took? 

No. Unfortunately the galaxy was just far too vast for that optimism, that sweet naivete. It would never be enough to settle the differences in Republic or Separatist opinion. 

It would never be enough to bring back Wolffe’s lost brothers, either.

Brothers he forever carries in his heart no matter if he knew them in maroon or gray. Five hundred seventy-four brothers were lost in the Battle of Abregado. As was the original Triumphant: the new flagship is unofficially filed as the Triumphant II, for the time being. If only you had the appropriate leverage to do it (or maybe you talked to enough of his brothers to rally them around the idea) you would propose Resiliency for the Star Destroyer’s new name to honor Commander Wolffe’s inspiring refusal to be deterred from his service, his duty, his creed of brotherhood and loyalty. 

It’s a lovely thought anyway.

One for another time. There’s still so much to do tonight. Gi’s still making bundles of incense for members of the Wolfpack, but there’s been offerings from the Chossi to show more of their homeland, and what they accomplish under the light of the moon as a nocturnal culture. Children Mir’s age are willing to share star stories, naming various constellations you can see when you look in the gaps of the leafy canopy of their community homes. (They’re calling it star-sowing, which sounds adorable.) Children Gi’s age have simple chores to do, and several of Wolffe’s men offer their hands in aid. 

Already, a few have assembled themselves in groups, rather like the squads they’re familiar with, and are ready to “report” to the youth of the Chossi. One rookie admits he doesn’t know what ground-squash looks like, but he’s willing to help with harvesting the ripe ones. They’ve spent all day relaxing. And though they spend more days than not getting their hands dirty, it’s from things like droid oil, and soot, oftentimes blood. Getting a bit of dirt on their hands while digging through a communal vegetable patch? Yes, that’s technically work on a day their General took them here to relax, but it’s relaxing compared to what they normally do.

“Might be the only time we get to dig holes we don’t have to fill back up.” another soldier says with a shrug, deciding he’ll join in after taking anthos incense from Gi. “Wait up, guys!”

“What did he mean by that?” you ask, half turning to Wolffe after noticing his eyes becoming half-lidded in thought. 

“Graves, most likely.” A stiff shrug is offered, showing he’s not sure himself. “Don’t trouble yourself with it.”

Tack, having eaten his hash-sah fruit while you’d been distracted, butts into the conversation between you and the commander before it grows any more grim. “You really got to try the fruit, Commander; it’s delicious. Arcadia’s should be big enough to share.” He can show you how to eat it, too, since it’s best to hold it by the soft rind, otherwise you’ll end up a bit of a mess like Orchid. 

“Ah shit, got my gloves and damn vambraces all fuckin’ sticky.”

Soapsuds hisses for him to be better. “Cool it, fresher-mouth!” he’s displeased that his brother’s not minding his tongue with so many little ones around. The little girl from earlier he’s given his chocolate to still hasn’t let go, for the most part; he’d rather not have one of his brothers prove a bad influence in her galactic vocabulary. 

You agree to get the large hash-sah fruit from amongst the things in your bag, gingerly extracting it when the flint-gray commander takes note of the time and suggests you need something to eat. If you’d returned to the Jedi cruiser with the rest of the crew, you’d probably have gotten dinner long before now. “Can’t have you going hungry, Arcadia.” Wolffe says, another instance of it being more than a suggestion. 

It’s a veiled request.

Afterwards, perhaps together, you can find something more to do. This time it is a suggestion. 

You figure anything will work, so long as it means he’s not about to start patrolling the perimeter of this community like he had in the clearing. You’ll count it as relaxing if you could get him to at least sit while he frets about his brothers. Especially if the brother within his sight is a shiny, thinking back to how he had asked if you could tell who among them were freshest out of the tube while working on his own sketch. 

Teeth and claws.

You really have to apply a firm grip on the soft rind of the hash-sah fruit in order to keep it from slipping out of your fingers once Tack’s gotten it divided equally between you and the commander, nails biting into the outer shell and leaving deep ruts as the juice runs between your fingers. 

“Stars above, scarcely started and I’m already wet…” you say as it drips into the lap of your uniform, catching the lewd innuendo far too late. “Orchid, don’t even.” 

He gives you a smile, but nothing more. 

“I mean it.” you warn him.

Laughing, Orchid now holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Can I at least ask if you think the fruit’s good?”

The commander's opinion of the local produce comes quietly before you answer his brother. ”It’s not rations.” Neither negative or positive, merely neutral. If he finds it bitter, or sweet, or savory, he doesn’t share. It’s simply not rations. 

“‘Anything’s better than rations’, I know. But is it good, Commander?”

Wolffe gives it a moment of thought. “It’s… like eating sweetened rainwater.” 

It doesn’t make much sense, but no one can figure out a way to argue against his description either. The matter gets chalked up to sitting near the fire for too long where Gi had been hard at work wrapping clusters of twenty-seven petals and leaves of a plant responsible for encouraging a person’s creativity and inspiration. 

It’s the pollen talking, you all reason amongst yourselves.

You and Commander Wolffe part ways for a short time, Plo Koon begging for your forgiveness as he explained (a little vaguely) that Wolffe was needed for something Dara had remembered, something they had forgotten to do around the ceremonial welcoming fire. After you had finished your portion of the hash-sah and cleaned your hands best you’d been able of the juices, someone had been by with more trinkets for the battalion to take with them if they wished. Leather bracelets of sorts with three beads of hammered copper, meant to be worn on the dominant arm. 

That’s when Dara remembered there was something special that was meant to be offered. It’s nothing Wolffe or the Jedi have to take, but as a culture that values their generosity, she and the rest of the elders feel it’s important to at least show it. Best guess anyone has is it’s likely some kind of clothing unique to the planet. Maybe art. 

“It would be impolite to refuse without seeing it first, General.” Wolffe agrees with the Kel Dor after briefly conferring with Kwill for the best course of action. He promises to come find you later. If it’s permitted by the elders, he’ll have Kwill take images of the offering in the event it’s something they feel they can’t (or won’t) take, so you can see it. 

“Don’t worry about me.” you promise, feeling safe between his DeeCee in your belt, and the familiarity in the company of his brothers. Though you are a lamb among so many wolves as a civilian, you couldn’t be safer. “I’ll find something to pass the time, General.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Arcadia.” Plo Koon replies kindly, dipping his head into a respectful bow of thanks. 

You’re not sure if it’s a Jedi thing, or a him thing, but you find yourself mirroring the motion this time. Respect earned, respect returned. 

He and Commander Wolffe shouldn’t be gone terribly long with the elders, so you decide to stay relatively close to where he’d departed from you just for now. Your head feels a little clearer than before, distanced from the incense where those stirring feelings had distracted you before. 

Twilight troubles, named for the harm they can do, could be simultaneously helpful. Funny how there’s so many things like that in this galaxy: good things, even good people, with intimidating names.

You’ve met a few troopers with hard, edgy names, their hearts softer than tooka fur. There’d been no bristle or frigid shoulders from men named Bane or Dukes or even a Bonesaw like your co-workers had warned you to steer clear of, what feels very long ago now, when you were very new to the job. They’d been the ones to help you navigate the durasteel halls while you learned where to go, what your duties were, your first few days. There’d been a Scuffle, too, who helped you, even at great inconvenience to himself. (Curiously, his armor bore some paint in sap green. Had he been transferred from a different unit?) Each had called you a rookie, but it was more of a casual, almost affectionate sort of thing, when they offered you their help. 

Here, sir, helped your lost rookie find their way. Got a little turned around in the halls. (Hey. Don’t worry, Arcadia, you’ll learn your way around in no time.)

Clones look so similar at first glance, a sea of sameness and uniformity. But you know better. These brave men are not wholly made of justs and sameness - a Clone who’s been invited to try his hand at throwing at a foot-pedal pottery wheel may have the same fingerprints as a million other brothers, just another Clone made in the after-image of a dead warrior, but his mark in this galaxy is unique because he is the one who put it there as the iron-rich clay squishes between his fingers in his first attempt. He laughs it off as the Chossi woman showing him how to throw encourages him to try again. 

“Well that’s certainly one way to get a feel for the clay!”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” she chuckles while she helps him start again. 

Trying again, he makes a concentrated effort not to immediately squish and squelch the red earth-matter, experimentally scooping into the mound she’s made to try pulling it outwards, like she showed him. Clones are remarkably fast learners, no matter if the result is a bit messy. Specks of clay plip against his stark white armor after he adds a bit too much water, distracted by Sergeant Boost joining the crowd of on-lookers. 

“Waiting here for the Commander, Arcadia?”

Answering somewhat to the affirmative, you tell him you’re mostly just looking around. “Just watching Lasher at the wheel for now, really.” Lasher’s having a good time, and watching the veteran ceramics at work is kinda mesmerizing. 

While you’re distracted, Sinker sweeps up Orchid, Tack and Soapsuds behind you, urging them to be silent. You’re none the wiser.

“Thinking you might add pottery to your list of talents?” Boost asks, teasing lightly. 

You roll your eyes, a sarcastic lilt in your voice. “Yeah sure, if I can find somewhere to squeeze it in between all the poetry and painting and woodworking and a thousand other things I’ve ever wanted to try my hands at with my precious free time since I’m just swimming in credits.”

“Hah,” Boost laughs, bobbing his head both knowingly and sympathetically, “Probably a good thing Clones don’t exactly come by much in the way of credits. There’d be too many half-used hobby kits lying around the cruiser.” 

While you’re asking him where Clones do get the credits for things like the popular Clone bar on Coruscant, Sinker is trying to persuade one of his brothers to do something for him to little success. “Please? It can’t be me or Boost.” It needs to be one of the younger brothers of the battalion who does this. He’ll sweeten the pot if need be, if it convinces them. “A dirty holomag. Round of drinks at 79’s. We won’t make you clean the gunships. Something.” 

“You had me at dirty holomag.” Orchid answers, grinning as he gleefully rubs his hands together. “What do you need me to do?”

Sithspit he didn’t actually have one on hand back at the cruiser, but he knows how to get one. That's a problem for later. “Listen carefully, when the Commander gets back-” Sinker begins, casting a careful look over his shoulder to make sure Boost still had you properly distracted. The two of you are making idle chatter, still. Sounds like Boost has you talking about potentially going back to the gathering fire with him later, where the inviting blaze would keep you warm in spite of the night’s chill. Just in case Commander Wolffe ends up being a while. 

You’re hemming and hawing about it, admitting you’re not sure just yet, but it’s kind of him to offer in the spirit of the oft-shared sentiment from the inhabitants of Little Archossi the Jedi, Clones and you are the humble guests of tonight. 

More friends the merrier. All are welcome under our shared skies. 

“Sure, no problem Arcadia,” Sergeant Boost says agreeably, “Night looks promising to have a lot of excitement still, so I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to - oh, I dunno - step back for a bit and find somewhere quiet. It is pretty late.”

Or, early, rather. It had been well past 1:00 when last you looked at a chronometer, putting you an hour into a new day. It’s probably 2 or even 3:00 am by now. It could be another three hours before dawn, give or take. You’re definitely not getting any sleep tonight, but you may at least need to rest. (You may need a lot of caf to get through the day when you get back to the cruiser.)

There’s a tree not far from here that seems a little more isolated at the edge of the settlement, Boost pointing it out to you when you say you think it might be a good idea, so it may be a good place to rest and work on another of your sketches if you want. 

“Thanks Boost. I think I might.”

From here, the activity and chatter of the settlement has fallen away into a comfortable lull of background noise, punctuated with hearty laughter and dramatic sound effects used by the troopers to spice up their storytelling. In the cold glow of the moon, you could once more study the artwork Wolffe had made of you while you twirled one of the coloring pencils in your hand absentmindedly. 

Color it however you like. 

Trouble is, you keep changing your mind, or run into complications. First you thought about choosing your favorite color, but the end of the pencil was too dull and you couldn’t find a sharpener among your things to remedy that. (How did you not have a sharpener?) Then you thought about coloring yourself in maroon too, the end still plenty sharp, but putting yourself in such a significant color to the history of the battalion felt… strange. Like maybe you felt you weren’t worthy of it. You’ve gone through a few more colors in your bag, putting away one and pulling out another, but you can never seem to bring yourself to put the pencil to paper. 

A rhythmic sound coming from the community, like the beating of a heart, pauses your skylane of thought for a moment. Growing louder, closer, you realize its two sets of boots tromping down the path, one heavy and deliberate to combat the other’s backpedaling. 

“Orchid, what is the meaning of this?!” Commander Wolffe demands at last, realizing his brother isn’t going to stop for anything, not even the threat of refresher and gunship duty. His brother only marches him further and further through the dark pathway where the crowns of the trees keep all the light for themselves. A datapad clipped to his hip rapidly knocks against the plastoid at the pace they’re going. “Let me go, or tell me what’s going on!” 

“Respectfully, Commander,” Orchid begins in a voice that leaves no room for interruption, “it’s time for you to stop circling the gunships and get to the hangar already!” He gives Commander Wolffe a firm shove from behind, sending the man a half-step forward into your small circle of light with a mischievous cackle. “Don’t worry about the rest of the battalion for the night, we’ve got it covered with the General!”

It’s now coming together for Wolffe, piece by piece. “... Boost and Sinker put you up to this, didn’t they?”

“Not quite, Commander. But they know I’ve got just enough younger brother privileges to still get away with this.” Orchid replies with a shit-eating grin, pleased with himself. 

“I’m putting all three of you-”

“Yeah, we’ve got it covered Commander! Have fun!” Orchid calls back over his shoulder as he retreats into the boundaries of the Chossi community. “Elder Row says don’t go any farther than the fifth cairn stack!”

Have fun? Fifth cairn stack?

Gulping back some nervousness, you apologize to the commander. “I’m so sorry that they’re… Well, I don’t even know what. I’m just as much in the dark as you, actually.” You’re not sure what Sinker or Boost had planned, or how exactly Orchid got involved in it, but you’re positive it’s giving Wolffe a headache. “I… might have a theory though.”

“... what?” Wolffe dares to ask, hesitant. 

“Sergeant Sinker told me earlier that I… s-seem to be having better luck than them when it comes to encouraging you to relax, so it’s… part of the reason I keep offering to keep you company.”

He stares at you in silence, contemplating perhaps, but it’s more likely that he’s working up something to say. 

Instead he sighs. “Hmm.” 

Putting your things to the side, you climb to your feet and dust off the seat of your pants, unsure if you should approach him when he’s currently clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. It doesn’t seem to be a completely conscious action as he finally drops his gaze and sighs once more. 

“Damn him.” comes the bitter grumble, a regretful expression cracking the commander’s stoic shell. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have started to lose my temper with-” Swallowing back the rest of the sentence with some difficulty, Wolffe looks at his feet instead, registering just how far he is from the settlement now, too. Sometimes, he finds himself forgetting just how strong the youngest troopers are. 

He’s been in this war for so long now, it feels, that trying to remember his own days fresh off Kamino proves a struggle. He used to be one of the four marshal commanders of the Grand Army, but the man you’ve gotten to know today is just a commander now. 

Wolffe notices something below his left boot just as you find your voice. 

“Wolffe? Are you okay?”

Your concern is touching. “I’m fine now, Arcadia.” he promises, pulling back his foot as he stoops to see what it is. Ah. Must have stepped on one of the Dinocaeruleus anthos after Orchid pushed him. (Anger and annoyance has been replaced with pride for that little pain in the ass.) He plucks the terrible blue flower with smashed petals from its home in the soil, looking regretful. Sorry little thing. He hadn't meant to trod over it. 

“What did Gi say these were called again?” he asks you, thinking to tuck the ruined blossom in his utility belt until he can find Tack. (Maybe even a ruined specimen can serve the researcher, in some way, he hopes.)

“Twilight troubles.” you answer, your voice softer than the gentle breeze. 

His head dips with a thoughtful nod as he plucks the neighboring, uncrushed flower too, “... come here.” Commander Wolffe requests in that golden tone that sends shivers down your spine. Close enough for his liking, Wolffe finds some buttonhole in your uniform to thread the stem through, adorning you with further tokens. “A little more color to catch the moonlight.” 

The stitched, gray wolf head with thread in your favorite color for the eyes was the only addition that graced your uniform just this morning. Now, there was the long leather cord of three copper beads wrapped around your wrist, and the Dinocaeruleus anthos - a delicate and beautiful galaxy when kissed by the rays of the moon - in the buttonhole to your breast pocket. 

“There,” Wolffe says decidedly, “think suits you rather well, Arcadia.” There’s a glimmer of moonlight reflected in the surface of his cybernetic eye, the cold and delicate beauty of it serves for a lure. You’re staring, and he can tell. 

He turns his face from you, eyes growing half-lidded. “Looks strange in the moonlight, doesn’t it?” The murmur is bashful, or perhaps more accurately, more self-conscious. Funny, you’ve never believed Commander Wolffe to be in any way conscious of his appearance like this in all the time you’ve been aboard the Triumphant. Never for a moment would you have pegged him to harbor insecurities, until today and all the many opportunities he has left himself vulnerable under your sight. 

Been permitted to know him better.

He’s allowed himself to be pulled apart, scrutinized and examined all so you can continually paint him with your praises, making your promises that you see him for the whole of the man he is. Beyond the flint. Beyond the designation number. Beyond his status as a commander, or simply just yet another rain-soaked son of Kamino. To you he is not Kaminoan or even Republic property, a mere product ten years in the making, a culmination of what a good, dutiful soldier was imagined to be and nothing further. No. You’ve witnessed too much today to pretend otherwise. 

He’s so much more.

“No. Strange isn’t the word I’d use.” you reply with a somber edge in your voice, “It’s… brighter in the moonlight. Like… like it becomes a beacon of light. Or a moon of its own.”

Instance after instance, you continue to impress Wolffe. Stump him repeatedly. Just when he thinks you can’t possibly offer yet more worshiping words, you conjure more. You’ve never seen him painted in the aching pains of rage that come in the heat of battle, but your tongue lifts only in reverence when you speak of his once-maroon paint and the phase one helmet. You’ve witnessed the hands that comforted and guided his brothers today, the very same hands that show a readiness in drawing his weapon today or any other day; never once did you shy away from such displays. You looked on in awe, instead. Or fear, not for yourself, but for him. 

He hums low in his throat. “Sounds like pollen-talk.”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s not. But would you believe me no less if it was, Wolffe?”

“‘Sounds like’ is not the same thing as ‘that is’, Arcadia.” the commander informs you, clarifying his meaning with a soft voice like hissing cinders. “But I never meant to imply I did not believe you…” Of course he believes you. You’ve proven your respect for him today, instance after repeated instance. 

It’s time he showed you more of the same respect in kind. You’ve been… so selfless, and kind, in giving him your time today. You could have told him to fuck off when he got in the way of the tree you’d been drawing, and you didn’t. You didn’t have to keep him company when Plo Koon had gone scouting, but you had. And you chose to remain behind when the rest of the crew left. How better can he repay all of that than to be honest with you?

Hoping he comes across in earnest, he meets your eye. “I would still believe you, even if it was from the flowers, because it’s you talking.” Wolffe promises. 

Now alone, fully isolated from his brothers rather than surrounded on all sides like so much of today, both you and the commander grow bolder, speaking freer than when you find yourself in the midst of the wolves. “Earlier: what was it that Waves said?” you ask, setting your things down now that you’re out of visual range of the battalion. 

Steeling himself with a long draught of his canteen first, Wolffe does not immediately meet your eye. He had taken you a little further away from the edge of the settlement, fearing his brothers would repeatedly come to gawk at the pair of you. What he says next, paired with the location, should be cautious. He’s aware of what it looks like. 

“Orchid seemed - seems…? - to think you'll have my privates standing at attention before morning, as a way to get me to relax, the next time we were alone.” 

It's exactly as you suspected, a sexual innuendo.

Both you and the commander break eye contact with the other at the same time. Yeah. You know exactly what the 104th will think when they learn that you two snuck off alone, staying within the boundaries of the third and fourth cairns - rock formations a whole head taller than Wolffe - in order to get a little alone time. 

“Permission to turn him into flower food, sir?” you request half-sarcastically with a deep groan, face in your hands. Did Orchid get that idea from his choice of reading material? Was the clever if crude play on words involving military rank and one's genitalia something he found on the Holonet? You and the commander… you barely know each other, let alone-! “Fucking hell… I think I’m gonna kill him.”

“He’ll wish you had after a week of fresher duty,” Wolffe says with a mild laugh, now offering you the canteen. “But I’m afraid the general and I need that little pain in the ass in one piece.” 

You chuckle. “Spoil-sport…” With not much in the canteen, you take a small drink with the intention of conserving some for later. The rest of the water was for you, he had said. You thank him after setting the canteen beside your bag, where you once more pull out your sketchbook as well as the second datapad you had offered to carry. When Orchid had shoved the flint-gray commander, the force combined with the weight of the datapad had compromised the clip holding it to Wolffe’s belt. At least that was going to be an easy part to replace. 

“So before I forget… what did Solladara want to show you and General Plo?”

Finding the pictures, Wolffe shows you the items, “Artwork of the clearing, where they found us. And… this.” It looks like it’s supposed to be some kind of shirt, but the material is surprisingly transparent. “You can understand why we accepted only the artwork, I’m sure.” Wolffe adds, shaking his head with a soft laugh as your eyes roam the image, trying to picture him in it while he mentions he’s going to try to get a small fire going to stave off the chill of the night. There’s a shallow pit, kindling and firewood that you can use here already, to your good fortune.

“I’m almost tempted to draw you again, wearing that Chossi attire that was offered to you this time.” you admit with a splitting smile, twirling the 2-besh pencil in your hand teasingly as you continue to study the image.  

You’re not really going to draw him in it, knowing that it’d leave very little to the imagination with a body type like the commander’s. He’s not slender in the same way the peoples of Little Archossi are, certainly much broader, and with well-defined muscle… Well. 

There was no way such a thing would be appropriate to wear anywhere other than the privacy of his own quarters. You’ll end up making the man look like a pin-up model in a state of semi-undress.

Wolffe clears his throat meaningfully. “You really should rest your wrist. I think you’ve drawn enough for the night, Arcadia.” Stretching out his hand, he silently beckons for the sketchbook to be turned over to him once he’s gotten the fire going. 

“Seriously?” You’re less than impressed with him for the moment, and it shows. You want to be touched that he’s concerned about your comfort, but him acting like a parent or other figure of guardianship in your life taking something away because you’ll misbehave with it in your possession is not the way to go about it. “I think I’m capable of showing some restraint on my own, thanks.”

Wolffe gives an unpleasant twitch when he realizes how this looks. How he believes he’s offended you. “I didn’t mean to imply that- Yes of course you are, Arcadia, you’ve proven that. I only wanted to ask to see it for a moment. I’m sorry.”

Oh. 

Oh Maker. Talk about a total overreaction when you don’t have all the facts. 

You hand him the spiral bound, eyes turned away. “I’m sorry. For assuming, and overreacting like that. I shouldn’t have.” The apology comes out in a strained voice, far more choked than you’d like. There are a million half-formed thoughts racing over your tongue right now that will never make it past your lips. You do not trust any single one will be coherent when it’s clarity you feel he deserves. “I think… I think after being around all this creativity-boosting pollen today it kind of just left me… wondering where all the thoughts begin and end.”

“Do you think you need a minute?”

“Yes…” you admit slowly. Wolffe starts to climb to his feet and panic begins to bubble up in your chest. “B-but I’d like you to stay! I’m not asking you to leave.” You don’t want him to leave, because you don’t know when he’ll come back, or if you feel this is worth potentially troubling a medic over. 

He listens, and he stays. The distance between you however, has changed. Wolffe’s put himself much closer to you now. Previously at arm’s length, he’s now close enough to lean against. He has the sketchbook in his hands, flipped open to that page of you in uncolored armor, but it’s you that he studies. In his quiet observance, Wolffe’s expression changes several times in the fluttering firelight, each change gradual and small. Softening brow. Pursing lips. Eyes full and fixed. 

“You’re a hard man to read sometimes, Commander Wolffe.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to say it, or how he’ll take it after what just happened, but maybe he’ll appreciate knowing what’s on your mind. “I think it makes me nervous. Sometimes.”

You know he doesn’t mean to. But you can’t help the way you feel either.

“I don’t doubt that, Arcadia.” 

He’s sorry that he makes you nervous, as well, Wolffe adds. Of course it isn’t his intention. Of course he understands that feeling this way can’t be helped sometimes either. He’s familiar with that feeling and its cousins. Nervousness and dread. You’ve seen enough proof of it today. The pacing. Safety drills. Lecturing Suds. Arguing with his sergeants. Throwing himself over you to keep you safe. 

Without hesitation. Like you were one of his own brothers… 

“Hey, um-” you start, glancing over at your sketchbook, “H-how’d you draw me so quickly? Can’t just have been ‘inspiration’.” It’s not the question you want to ask first when you disturb the curtain of silence, but it’ll serve as a good starting block.

Commander Wolffe gives you a small, guarded smile. “The idea is to be quick when you’re drawing outdoors, is it not? That’s what you said to me this morning.”

Oh the utter cheek in that reply - whether it was intended or coincidental - could drive someone wild were there not so many questions on your mind. And there’s just so much. 

“Force, I… I almost forgot I’d said that, in all honesty.” you admit a bit numbly, staring ahead into the dark sea of foliage. “You- Well no, you remembering that would make sense. I guess I should be more surprised by how much detail you captured in so short a time.” 

Muttering something to himself in thought, he repeats the word detail several times before coming to an important decision. 

Commander Wolffe's hand darts into the low fire pit, snatching out a charred hunk of wood. As you're wondering what the hell's gotten into him, if he's burned his hand through the gloves, he takes the art book in his opposite hand and flips it to his sketch of you. Sort of tickling the page with one end of the charred wood, Wolffe is carefully smearing the appropriate areas of the armor with ashes, blowing away the excess once he's done. 

“That takes care of gray missing from all of the coloring pencils.” He nods once, stiffly, satisfied with his ingenuity. “Now you truly look the part.” 

Look the part? But you're just drawn in Clone armor and colored in gray, just like the 104th battalion. What's so special about-?

Oh, Force. Oh galaxy and all her stars…

Commander Wolffe means you look like the rest of the one-oh-fourth, that you fit in. 

“Are you saying that…?” 

Osk-nern-esk

The eyebrow above his cybernetic eye lifts just so, nearly missed in the flickering firelight. “Use your words, Arcadia.” he teases. 

Osk-forn

“A-are you saying that I’m… b-but I'm just part of the crew!” you insist, certain that he's not serious about this. He can't truly mean what he's been writing, word by word beneath the first mantra. 

Trill-hesh-esk

“But you are, Arcadia. You're one of us.” Wolffe promises, voice low and reverent. “The 104th would not be the same without you. Not after what I've seen… felt today.” 

Wesk-osk-leth-vev-esk-senth

ONE OF THE WOLVES.

Whether they were still the magnificent maroons of the past, or the grizzled grays of today, you have been added among the names - the number perhaps thousands or more - of his brothers that he will forever carry in his beating heart, forevermore his wolves. This is a silent oath that when he fights for the glory of the Republic and the downfall of the Separatists, he’s doing so for his general, for his brothers, and for you.

For good measure, Wolffe scribbles down his rank and name, bringing the end to the work on his magnum opus with a signature. It's only fitting. Here, at this private fireside, he lays his heart and intentions bare to you. “I’m probably about as poetic as a gargled mouthful of Aurebesh soup, but Arcadia… while I know you well enough to consider you one of the Wolfpack, I'd… I'd like to ask if you'd be opposed to getting to know you better. As new friends do, first, perhaps, or…”

You blink once, maybe five times before finding your voice. Friends. In his own way, he confirmed you were friends. “I wouldn't be opposed at all… I-I’d be happy to, even.” 

You're nearly breathless, heart racing a thousand kilometers an hour, just short of warp speed. 

Does the slight stress to “or” mean he's grappling with other feelings about you on his mind, like you do for him? The love versus limerence? 

“As friends is a… good place to start.” you offer additionally, matching that tender, relieved smile he shows you. 

“Have to start somewhere, Arcadia,” the Commander replies plainly, trying to appeal to his and your own sense of logic perhaps. “Just to make certain of any… feelings.” 

Taking you under his arm, against his side, Wolffe is content with waiting out the remainder of the night under the curtain of stars for the sky to lighten and give way to another glorious, golden dawn. The 104th will depart for the Triumphant at daybreak, and the war efforts will resume as normal. You just hope Plo Koon cooks up a satisfactory excuse in the event someone asks him what happened today. (Or, technically yesterday. (What time is it?)) For all you know, nobody will ever ask or care to know, or it'll be decided what happened on Little Archossi is by-and-large an unspoken secret. 

Which would kind of be a shame. 

It'd be terrible to keep the day you became friends with the flint-gray Commander under wraps, never get to explain the truth behind him coated in maroon while you're in gray in the pages of your sketchbook. Never be able to explain the full context of meeting the Chossi, or what they've taught everyone. 

Or how, murmured under his breath into the shell of your ear after the stars begin melting into the backdrop at long last, Commander Wolffe admits that perhaps for once, he's never been more relaxed since the start of the war.

That's a wrap! Thank you so much to everyone who read this series; I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing this.🩷If you would like to be join my taglist for future fics, the form can be found here.

Tag list: @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636 @dukeoftheblackstar

[Masterlist]

[Early Morning] [Midday] [Late Afternoon] [Evening] [Deep Night]

[Golden Dawn part 1] [Finished!]

#frostfics #Poets and Painters #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #tcw #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #gender neutral reader #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #cc 3636 #cameos of #plo koon #104th battalion #tcw sinker #tcw boost #tcw warthog #tcw comet #clone oc: tack #clone oc: orchid #clone oc: soapsuds #mentions of #jedi oc: caelen #clone oc: scuffle

[staycalmandhugaclone]

First Impressions - Tales with the 104th

Anyone curious about Doc's first introduction to the Wolf pack? My little rant with @actuallybarb and @altered-delta is to blame for this tangent, but I'll get back to Hunter now that I've scratched this itch.

While this chronologically takes place well before Doc joins CF99, I wouldn't recommend reading it until after reading up to Found Footage.

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!

Warnings: TW: vague bugs

WC: 1,810

This was stupid… Kriff, this was the most idiotic thing I’d ever done… Coruscant… Why the kark was I on Coruscant? That jedi… he had a way of speaking that just seemed to make everything… make sense. Of course, I couldn’t stay on Agamar, it wasn’t safe for me there. Of course, the only way for me to continue helping the Republic was to join the GAR, I was a medic, after all… and what other battalion could I possible be assigned to but the one led by the very man who’d shot me down? The risk for being found out was too great if I ended up with anyone else…

Nothing about it had been wrong… I think that was the most frustrating part. Yes: his recommendations and gentle acceptance had likely been my best chance for any kind of meaningful existence outside the CIS, but listening to his calm voice walk me through it was very different from being here, garbed in the crisp white armor my neighbors once held synonymous with fear and oppression, treading toward the barracks of elite warriors trained to kill from the moment they could hold a gun with the expectation of them simply accepting a stranger to join their ranks… Confined to the medbay during the flight into Republic space, I’d barely seen anyone other than the Jedi General himself. But now...

My heart pounded as I tread down that final hall, straining not to show the slightly unnatural gait from the odd senselessness of my ankle. It wasn’t numb… but… it wasn’t right, either, and my body didn’t seem to know if it could trust the joint not to crumble at every step. Mind torn between focusing on steadying my strides and stilling the panic from chilling my veins, I didn’t notice the rhythmic sounds of quickly approaching footsteps racing after me until the thuds boomed mere yards behind me.

Shoulders snapping back, I darted around and froze. I hadn’t expected such a gleeful smile to pull at lips torn by such violent scars; hadn’t expected anyone here to smile at me like that at all…

“Oh good! I’ve been looking for you! Come here – I need your help!” I didn’t have time to react before he turned on his heel and began trotting brusquely back the way he’d come. My brows pulled together for just a moment, confusion robbing me of thought, but my body hesitantly moved forward to follow him.

The clone before me wore his hair shaved save for twin, crimson mohawks that matched the slight red tinting light brown eyes. The quiet giggle that caught in his throat as he led me back around a few turns told me everything I needed to know.

“Alright, listen: all I need you to do is wait right here.” He handed me a slim communicator, lips pulled into a grin so earnest, even the thick lines of scar tissue stretching up just shy of his eye couldn’t deter from the image of joyous ill-intent he portrayed. “When the others come – they’ll all have this color on their armor – just click this button. Okay? Maybe buy me some time if you can!” He didn’t wait for me to respond before sprinting back the way we’d come.

I looked dumbly at the com for a beat longer, some part of my mind still unable to grapple what I’d just been roped into, but, mere minutes later, I heard the distant echo of several sets of armored bootsteps. There was no time left for thought.

Three soldiers approached in a loose formation, helmets held thoughtlessly under an arm as they conversed between each other. I’d read their files. Even without the leader’s unique silver hair, I would have pegged him as Sinker, the Sergeant of the 104th purely from the rigid posture and impatient glare. The soldier with the red mohawks I was sure was Boost, meaning the two others before me had to be Comet and Warthog as Commander Wolffe was sure to still be with the General.

I should have spared more thought to the decision I’d found myself facing, but the very stiffness of Sinker’s movements made the choice for me. I clicked the comm. Fingers tapping rapidly across my datapad, I started intently toward them.

“You’re Sergeant Sinker, right?” I asked, body locking to a professional halt mere feet before them. The silent sigh that subtly shifted his shoulders freed me of any lingering traces of uncertainty as those nearly golden eyes turned to me with a look of pure reluctance.

“And you must be the nat-born medic we’ve been… assigned.” He nearly sneered, voice raspier than I’d expected, “I thought you looked too short to be a clone.” I knew he couldn’t see the hint of a glare through my visor, but his brothers chuckled slightly at the way my helm tilted forward in some semblance of an eyeroll.

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to exchange pleasantries later,” I replied in a tone mimicking his false platitudes, “I just need your clearance for now – this thing locked me out.” Without waiting for him to reply, I held my freshly locked datapad toward him. He let out a short scoff.

“Civi can’t even handle a lock screen…” he grumbled, rubbing his hand wearily over his eyes. “Look, I don’t have time to hold your hand, right now. I’m sure you can find a service droid around here somewhere to help you.” With that he started to step forward to go around me, but I purposefully turned to block his path with my shoulder, freehand clasping the bottom lip of my helmet to remove it, narrowed eyes turning up to his with an air of bored annoyance.

“I wasn’t asking.” I stated, voice crisp. The man to his right, Warthog, let out a choked laugh before biting it back, while Comet glanced between his Sergeant and me with a whisper of concern.

“Fresh into a shiny set of plastoid, and the nat-born already thinks she can boss us around.” The disdain in Sinker’s voice filled me with something that wanted to be anger, but there was deeper emotion in those words that I was sure to find myself focusing on later.

“Medic.” I corrected, gaze never wavering from his. “The medic wants to finish running inventory so I’m not wasting time hunting things down while one of you are bleeding out on the battlefield. And, yeah, there’s going to be a bit of a learning curve with the new tech. Would you rather I work through that here or in the middle of a gunfight?” The unmistakable challenge quickening my retort left the others biting back smirks while Sinker’s pulse thudded against the skintight black fabric about his neck.

Without a word, he took the datapad from me, fingertips tapping against the screen with far more force than was strictly necessary as he rapidly overrode the lock before holding it back out to me.

“Thank you.” I’d only managed to delay them a few minutes, but anything more would raise suspicions. Just as I was reaching out to take back the device, Boost came jogging down the hall. I barely managed to school my expression at the realization that he must have raced all the way around the building.

“Where the hell’ve you been?” Warthog asked, turning to face his brother.

“Wolffe had a, uh, a few more things to say about the… the akk pup.” The freshly chastised cringe in his voice was delivered perfectly. “What’s going on here?”

“The na… new medic,” Sinker belatedly corrected, sparing a fleeting sideways glance toward me, “was having some technical issues.” If the self-important man had been facing at his brother instead of looking down his nose at me, he’d have seen the flash of intrigue cross Boost’s face, but it was gone by the time he turned away.

“Oh! Hey! I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you! Let me show you to our room.” He greeted cheerfully, much to Sinker’s chagrin, but the silver-haired soldier merely let out a tense breath as he led the way forward once more. I fell in beside the smiling man wordlessly, gaze shifting between the group of warriors around me.

“Don’t worry – he’s just testy today… Turns out six month old akk pups can be pretty… munchy…” He pointed to Sinker and wiggled the fingers of his left hand. I had to lean to the side a bit, but was able to note several tears in the black glove, and had to grind my teeth to keep from giggling.

Several meters from the barracks door, Boost notably slowed his pace, lips tensing to fight back the grin, and I found myself lingering beside him as the others tread through the door.

“…Boost!” The deep growl of Sinker’s voice drew out the first broken breath of silent laughter from the soldier beside me. “What the kriff is this?!” Driven forward by curiosity, I just managed to glimpse an impossible number of upside-down cups covering nearly every flat surface of the barracks – the floor, the beds, the desk, even the windowsill; before a hand lightly grasped my arm. Without turning away from the doorway, he gave a tiny shake of his head. Curses grumbled from the Sergeant as he continued forward, kicking the cups aside in rushed, furious strides.

I didn’t see exactly what scurried out from beneath one of the upturned cups, but the sound that tore from Sinker’s throat ruined me. I could barely control my own laughter enough to witness how violently he shied from the rush of movement, throwing himself back into even more cups, at least one of which also released some dark, scurrying form to the Sergeant’s absolute horror. Warthog and Comet were howling just inside the door in the perfect position to witness the entirety of Sinker’s panicked dance as the man lashed out around him, heels stomping every shadow and flutter of dust.

“How many are there?!” He shrieked, finally scrambling toward the exit. I didn’t even realize Boost as I had fallen to the ground in our hysterics until his nearly red eyes found mine and he pointed frantically down the hall.

“R…run… Run!” He gasped, legs churning listlessly beneath him for the several seconds it took to regain control of his limbs enough to push himself up, feet scraping atop the floor. His hand locked around my arm without a moment’s hesitation, dragging me along with him as his pace quickened into a full sprint. The whisper of doubt that should have left my stride faltering meant nothing beneath the warmth of our laughter and the firm grip of his touch steadying me. This was absolutely the most idiotic thing I’d ever done, but, finally, I felt some wisp of hope that I wouldn’t regret it.

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[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) Part 3

Warning: None Words: 1.9k Pronouns Used: She/Her - Use of Y/N and N/N (nickname)

"Koh-To-Ya, Master Plo," whispered (Y/N) upon waking. Looking around her quarters, she saw Plo peacefully reading over something on his datapad in the corner of the room. The room was just as quiet; no sound seemed to penetrate the durasteel walls despite the airbase being just meters away. 

"Koh-To-Ya, Little (N/N)," called Plo in response, shifting to place the datapad down and move closer to her. As normal, his voice was calm and filled with wisdom. All his swift motions across the room suggested that the concerns plaguing him had finally been settled. "How are you feeling?" questioned the wise Jedi Master the moment he was at her side. The medics had done a good job patching her up; a few stitches were all that remained of the head injury she'd sustained, and in a few weeks, there would be no trace of it. The gash to her side, however, would take a little longer to heal properly; it still sent numbing twinges or a sharp shot of pain to remind her it was there. 

"Like I fell down a chasm," replied (Y/N), her voice scratchy and broken from a prolonged period without use. Your Commander, is he okay?" she asked with concern, forgetting her own injuries and well-being in favor of the battle-worn commander she'd tried to save. As her fuzzy memories cleared up, she recalled catching him with the stem cells and vaguely recalled his yelled response. "Is he still pissed off?" she questioned, not bothering to sugarcoat her words, even in the face of her master. 

"Wolffe made a full recovery and was cleared for active duty a few days ago," responded Plo, not speaking of the changes he noticed regarding the loyal commander, at least not yet. "He's not angry, more confused, conflicted even," he added, bringing a taloned hand to his chin as if to ponder the changes. Many times, Plo found Wolffe watching over (Y/N) while off duty. His view of Night Sister, in particular, was changing, or at least his previous opinions of (Y/N) had. She was no longer an enemy, although Wolffe was clearly trying to figure out what she was to him now. 

"How long have I been out?" questioned (Y/N), at least having enough sense to realize it was far longer than a few hours, even more so if Wolffe had been cleared for duty days prior. "The 916th, what's to happen with them?" she added, her concern turning to the troopers she'd previously led rather than to her own health and healing. Rightly so, the Jedi Knight knew she'd be reassigned soon enough. The council never seemed to hesitate to send her around the galaxy. 

"Calm (N/N), the 916th are well taken care of; Master Yoda has taken command for now," asserted Plo, placing a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder as if to aid in calming her and ensure she did not overexert herself. "You've been asleep for five rotations," he informed, seeing the shock wash over her features before being replaced with a more neutral expression. After a while, (Y/N) simply nodded, although she was still collecting her scattered thoughts and senses. She'd been out that long, and no one tried to transfer her back to Coruscant or a long-term medbay. Quickly, she figured Plo had prevented it; after all, her fear, almost hatred of medbays, wasn't a secret she kept to herself. Anyone who knew her knew she refused to be near a medbay after the events that transpired as a child. 

"I'm to be reassigned, aren't I?" commented (Y/N), her tone flat as she worded the question more matter-of-factly. She knew she would be reassigned, but the question was where and for how long this time. 

"Indeed you are," voiced Plo in response, taking a seat at her side once again, taking on the role of a father figure rather than a Jedi Master. "Shaak Ti has requested you return to Kamino. She says there is a specific unit that will benefit from your training," spoke the Kel Dor. "While there, I'd advise you to acquaint yourself with the Commando units. You're to be assigned as their permanent commander." 

"What changed the council's mind?" asked (Y/N) before she had a chance to stop the question from leaving her lips. However, she didn't regret asking it. She knew that if she didn't, it would eat away at her until she eventually found the courage to ask. 

"I put the notion to the council after the Wolf Pack mentioned it. As did several council members, both the senate and the commandoes agreed," recalled Plo, hearing the quiet thank you in response. Although he was sure, she meant it for more than just her new assignments. More than likely, she referred to remaining at the base instead of waking up in a clinical medbay somewhere, surrounded by reminders of the past she tried so hard to suppress and bombarded by the memories and anxiety it would cause. 

Just moments after (Y/N) fell into peaceful slumber again, a buzzing sound emanated from the door. The second it opened, Comet entered, holding on to (Y/N)'s lightsabers, the graceful weapons he'd spent hours most nights trying to mend, with little luck. The most he'd been able to do with his limited knowledge was to get the damaged one to buzz and overheat before powering off. Other than that, his only success was to add a little wolf charm to the hilt of the twin duel lightsabers. If only so (Y/N) had a reminder of them when she eventually left. 

"Wolffe's pacing around the hall again," gently spoke Comet, his voice quiet so as not to wake the peaceful Jedi again. Plo nodded once more before leaving the room, placing a hand on Comet's shoulder. 

Since the fall, Wolffe has been different. He's all-focused and still does his job perfectly when on duty, but he seemed confused and even conflicted when off duty. Plo had noticed and subtly told his commander he was there should he feel the need to speak of what bothered him. The wise Kel Dor could sense the conflicted feelings and confusion revolving around (Y/N) and her actions to save him and will to do so at a great cost to herself, even after his prior treatment of her. 

"Runi," quietly voiced Comet, his words no louder than a whisper. His attention was on the lightsabers clutched in his gloved hands. I tried fixing your lightsaber, but it doesn't like me. It buzzes and overheats now. Kinda like Wolffe when he's off duty," he joked, stepping closer to (Y/N), seemingly peacefully sleeping. No doubt, the powerful painkillers had kicked in. "I don't know if anyone else said this, but thank you for saving our grumpy brother. He appreciates it too, even if he doesn't outwardly show it," finished Comet, as he gently placed the lightsabers on the shelf just behind where (Y/N) slept. After completing his task, he left the room once more, making sure the door slid shut properly before leaving, only glancing back upon hearing Wolffe's familiar all-be-it hesitated growls, likely warding away the civvi medic again. 

"This is the most I've seen Wolffe confused in some time," stated Boost, witnessing as the commander began to pace back and forth. He was agitated, confused, and clearly conflicted, more so than he normally was. There was little doubt (Y/N) was the cause of his confusion, especially if the mumbled words in the dead of night and sleep were anything to go by. 

"I don't know; he was pretty messed up after losing his eye," replied Sinker, recalling the struggle well. In Wolffe's mind, all Jedi became lightsaber-wielding maniacs, even their wise General Plo. Civvi's were still unknown territory for Wolffe; he'd yet to regain the confidence he'd once had before the Malevolence and losing his eye. After the Malevolence, the commander had begun to shut himself off and closed off his heart from caring about others for fear he'd lose them like all those at Abregardo. 

Asajj Ventress, taking his eye, forced away any softness Wolffe may have had toward those outside his brothers and Wolf Pack. He became so much colder towards Civvi, always expecting judgment from them, normally harsh judgment at that. Most of the time, he didn't give civvies a chance to know him or see the softer side that had become a well-guarded secret. 

"He likes her. What's to be confused about?" voiced Warthog, leaning against the wall. Normally, he'd take the chance to tease Wolffe, but he knew better than to do that at the moment. Especially when the chances of his head being bitten off were higher than normal. "You know, other than she's a Night Sister, and he swore to hate all Children of Dathomir," chuckled the pilot, knowing if Wolffe heard him now, he'd be growled at for days. 

"Did you return her sabers?" came Wolffe's booming voice, startling the group of four. Warthog, in particular, paled as he turned to face his commander. He'd expected to see the normal flat unamusement painted on Wolffe's features, but instead, he was met with something else entirely. Wolffe clearly displayed his exhaustion, although that didn't stop the commander from whacking the pilot upside the head, at least confirming he'd heard his words. "I'm not confused. I just ... don't understand her." 

"She'll be leaving soon. Should be easier for you to forget about her and return to your grouchy self," spoke the second civvi medic. This one was male and hardly a joy to be around. Most of the time, he'd taken delight in naming each clone insulting names, calling them by their identification numbers, or just outright being callous. "I doubt that would be much trouble for the rest of you mindless soldiers."

"Is it still against the rules to shoot civvi personnel?" asked Sinker, making sure his words were loud enough for the civvi to hear as he all but stomped away. No doubt, he was heading to (Y/N)'s quarters to check on her. Now she had woken, it would only be a matter of time before she was set to Kamino for her next assignment. 

"Unfortunately, yes," voiced Boost in response, rolling his own brown eyes at the thought of having to put up with the civvi for several more months, at least until his rotation with them ended. "As much as I agree, the temptation to commit said war crime is there. It's not worth the court marshaling we'd get for it." 

"General Plo's disappointment would be far worse," Wolffe said before walking away, hearing the boys following along as if they understood his silent intentions of returning to the barracks. However, the commander became suspicious of their motives. Were they following to keep out of trouble or to begin the thought-out interrogation they had been summing up the courage to commit for days? 

Series Masterlist

#star wars #reader insert #reader interactive #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #jedi reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x jedi reader #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #tcw comet #tcw boost #tcw sinker #tcw warthog #master plo koon #scars commander wolffe x jedi reader #cross posted to neobook #cross posted to wattpad #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on quotev

[enigmatist17]

I got you Anon (Pt 2)!

Also, I have seen Helix in a lot of fan works listed as the 104th medic, and while he doesn't appear to be canonical, if anyone knows who made him, please let me know so I can credit them!

I am...many years late to the fandom.

-----------

Wolffe sighed as he stepped into his quarters, finally able to breathe for a moment without the looks.

As much as he loves the 104th, Wolffe wishes they would all stop staring at his face.

His encounter with Ventress hadn't been too long ago, the scarring around his blind eye still quite pink despite his regular bacta treatments. He knows they aren't staring to make fun, but the pity and unspoken questions are driving him up the walls, and now he's running for the safety of his quarters the earliest he is literally able to.

He doesn't make it to the bed this time, instead sitting against the door as the feeling of revulsion and disgust roiling up as he traces the scar along his face. He should have been faster, hit harder, done more to escape, and instead what did he do?

He was made a captive to the Sith's mercy, and had given her the prize of his screams of agony when she ran her saber against his skin.

Wolffe doesn't react to the ring of his door comm, lost in his own thoughts until the door is overridden from the outside. With the grace of a drunken loth wolf, Wolffe finds himself fall back onto something firm yet oddly cushioned, but doesn't need to know who was there. The spices from those strange sticks he burns, incense Plo had explained after noticing the curious looks, seem to invade the air and for a moment, Wolffe takes in the comforting scent.

"Apologies, I didn't realize you were on the other side." The Jedi watches as his commander gets up and onto his feet in record time, forcing a smile as he stands at attention. "Please, at ease."

"Didn't realize you wanted to see me, sir." The soldier's stance relaxes, and for a moment the two don't break eye contact.

"I did not." Plo feels the restrained curiosity ebb from the clone, and he answers the feeling with one of concern and comfort.

"I'll be fine." The answer is gruff, as was the course, and the Jedi gives a small nod.

"As you say." Wolffe squinted at the Jetti, who has his hands innocently behind his back.

"I know that tone." Wolffe crossed his arms as he heard the rumble of amusement from the other, and waits.

"Your kih'vod have been asking about you, and have informed me you don't leave your quarters unless needed. They wish for you to join them tonight, if you feel up to it."

Oh...

"I'm fine." The words are bitter in his mouth, and the commander clears his throat. "Do you need anything else?"

"I don't, but I believe Sergeant Sinker does."

Unfair

Sinker is patiently waiting outside, Helix leaning up against the nearby wall with his arm crossed.

Wolffe sighs.

"The barracks have that incense stuff burning, if it helps." Helix gives a rare grin, and Wolffe shoots Plo a betrayed look as Sinker slings an arm around his shoulders. "Even scored the nice, uh, what are they called again general?"

"Pajamas."

"Yes! Got you the nice pair, if you come with us ori'vod." The look of betrayal wavers, and when his shoulders slump, Helix claps his hands together.

"Excellent, I'm going to steal my blanket before the others do." The medic moves to be on Wolffe's other side, and the poor man is basically escorted to where plenty of those on their off time are milling around. They're not openly staring for once, Tracer tossing the small bag full of the pajamas his way before resuming his nap against Warthog, and Wolffe is freed to go and change out of sight. Once he's changed (the fabric is so soft, Wolffe hopes one day that everyone in the GAR is allowed to have them) he just looks in the mirror of the fresher room, and sighs.

He truly was pathetic right now, right?

He's supposed to be a leader, unwavering as he helps serve his general and his men. Instead he's just...staring at a man who had been so lost in his thoughts that his own men were worried, a man who couldn't even stand looking at his own reflection.

He doesn't even realize someone has joined him until a gentle hand rests on his shoulder, Boost giving a soft smile.

"I'm no Jedi, but we can all just about hear what's going on in that brain of yours."

"Mhm.." Wolffe doesn't feel his feet move to follow the other out of the room, more a passenger as he's situated against the patiently waiting Jetti and soon surrounded. Sure, he can hear words being spoken as the familiar weight of his brothers slowly pin him down, but registers maybe half of them as he watches the lights dim. It takes a moment to realize one of Plo's hands is cradled around his head, thumb gently resting over his scar as he's held close to the man he considered buir.

"You are my strongest child, don't ever think otherwise." Plo's chest rumbles as he whispers to Wolffe. "One of the brightest lights in the Force that I see every day."

Wolffe closes his eyes, and finally dreams.

Ventress is gone, instead he dreams of what he thinks the Force looks like, the lights of his brothers twinkling with every emotion he could think of, and every one of them unique. Their buir is the biggest light, the warmth and love he radiates keeping the nightmares far away as they exhausted commander finally gets some sleep.

#personal #star wars #clone wars #swtcw #plo koon #commander wolffe #tcw boost #tcw helix #tcw warthog #tcw tracer #104th battalion

[techs-feral-wife]

Alright clone fuckers, I gotta know

#tcw wolfpack #plo's bros #tcw clone wars #tcw wolffe #tcw comet #tcw boost #tcw sinker #tcw warthog #I want to say Wolffe #but I think I'm on a Sinker kick atm

[omaano]

What? He's fine. They are just testing that gravity works alright, and Tracer needed help with stretching his back. Their success at it is a different matter.

@dukeoftheblackstar come and do something about your favourite boys, they are not doing so fine under the cut.

#my art #clone troopers #tcw #tcw fanart #104th battalion #clone trooper warthog #clone trooper tracer #star wars fanart #digital art #sketch #I just wanted to pick a fun looking pose and now look at them warthog needs a hug. lot of hugs actually. #I couldn't keep the regular haircut for Tracer either oops?

[totallycorrectjediorderquotes]

Wolffe: this is like military combat and I'm the brave colonel and you are all the footsoldiers fighting in the tranches

Comet: Tranch

Warthog: Tranch

Wolffe: I'm sending you both on a mission into enemy territory and I dont expect either of you to return

#Commander Wolffe #Corporal Comet #clone trooper Warthog #104th battalion #The Vode #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #tcw #incorrect star wars quotes #Star Wars: The Prequel Trilogy #Star Wars the Expanded Universe #source: tumblr

[dukeoftheblackstar]

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.

#♝ #dukeoftheblackstar #Plo Koon #Wolffe #Boost #Sinker #Wildfire #Comet #Warthog #Tracker #Duchess #oc duchess #ploduch #ρℓσ∂υ¢н #104th battalion #wolfpack #tcw #clones #them bebbies #yes #all of them are there #we're making art for the forgotten boys of the 104th #look at them #delicious babies ♥

[mamuzzy]

Hallo! I hope you don't mind adding one more to the Wolves :D. We rarely get some Warthog love and I was hoping you'd add to the small art for him out there :)

If you have time to spare, please draw my beautiful baby boy, Warthog with or without his fallen bestie Tracer ♥ Thems the bestest pilots ♥

YOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU.

I've just finished Shipyards of Doom just to get to know them better and catch their characters and even with initial information I DIDN'T PREPARE FOR TEARS! HOW DARE YOU!!! Such a lovely duo, thank you for requesting them. And of course, they come in pairs. <3

"You want go double or nothing by that bet, Warthog?" "Tracer, if we hit the planet, you're gonna die too." "Yes, but not before you! Ha ha!"

#clone trooper warthog #clone trooper tracer #wolfpack #104th #the clone wars #tcw fanart #tcw #mamuzzy draws stuff #mamuzzy answers

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

The Clone Wars 4.13 ‘Escape from Kadavo’ Reaction Take 2 

This scene of the slave camp in the Kadavo mines was brutal. Or at least I’m assuming they're mines of some sort, what with the shovelling of coal and minecarts being pushed around by the enslaved Togruta colonists.

More Obi-Wan and Rex whump. Aw yisssssssssss 

I know he’s just been hit with an electro staff but Rex really does look like he’s lounging on the coal pile. It also looks like he's wearing a skirt. I know it's a tunic that's part of the Zygerrian outfit but Rex's legs are looking particularly nice in it. More skirts for clones!

Does Dooku’s space ship have sails? This is reminding me of something but I can’t quite place it. Possibly a different sci-fi story or universe?

How does R2-D2 manage to roll around everywhere without getting spotted or detained?

“Dooku is not my master.” Honey, that is denial.

Anakin just yeeting himself over the edge of the balcony.

How did that Zygerrian not die on impact after being hurled that far off the balcony by Anakin?

“I’m listening.” Dooku is keen for more Obi-Wan despair.

That line from the Zygerrian queen about Obi-Wan’s efforts to help people only hurting them was rough yet also had some element of truth to it. Hmmmm. 

Poor Obi-Wan looks so sad in the enslaved bunk room that they’ve all been put in. Though the Zygerrian queen is busy monologuing about breaking his spirit at this point, so I suppose that makes sense.

Dooku has so much sass. It must be a disaster lineage thing.

The music in this episode was just fantastic. The music in The Clone Wars, and The Bad Batch, has been consistently excellent and the Kiner’s have done an amazing job. But this episode was even another step up on top of that. The fantastical theme that’s playing in the background as Anakin frees Ahsoka by lifting up her cage really elevated (heh) the moment.

Ahsoka just casually using the Force to break off her slave collar like it’s nothing.

A betrayal by your most faithful servant? Who would’ve thought!

The soap opera-espe way the Zygerrian queen screamed and threw her space martini on the floor was hilariously over the top.

Did Anakin really just walk into a confrontation with Dooku without a lightsaber? Or did he think he’d just be able to magically get it from the Zygerrian queen without Dooku noticing? More of the famed ‘no plan’ approach from Anakin.

“I see the queen has given you a long leash.” ahahahaha the snark.

Anakin just yeeting himself backwards through a giant glass window.

Yes, you’re also a slave. Took you long enough to realise it.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee the “I’m no Jedi” moment has arrived!

More excellent Obi-Wan and Rex whump. Yassssssssss

There’s just something about Rex on his knees. Mmmmmmmm.

“Still afraid to get your hands dirty.” CACKLING

Wow, they did not hesitate to blow up the Zygerrian ship that Anakin and Ahsoka arrived on Kadavo in. Instantly started blasting.

“We’ll get through the old fashioned way.” Rip that door.

Rex looks so pissed at Dooku.

Ow, poor R2 getting blasted in the foot.

Anakin is absolutely not listening to Obi-Wan here, and for once that’s probably a good thing. His line about “I’ve had enough bargaining with slave drivers.” makes it pretty clear that he’s done with all of this.

“Who said I was alone?” which leads us to...

PLO

What a fanfare for their arrival. That is definitely a ‘the heroes have arrived to save the day’ moment.

Wolf Leader to Wolf Pack AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Hey Warthog!

“About time.” Rex is ready to kick some arse.

Even Plo’s fighter is painted in the Wolf Pack pattern. Buir loves his sons very much.

Anakin just casually booting in a giant circle of metal like it’s nothing.

“We’ll need a bigger ship.” something something Jaws reference

Ok, I swear I have seen Obi-Wan use the same manoeuvre that Anakin just used that finishes with stabbing the enemy behind you while facing away from them. It feels awfully familiar. Seeing as Anakin was Obi-Wan’s padawan, it makes sense that Anakin would use some of the same fighting styles and movements as Obi-Wan, even though they ended up specialising in different lightsaber fighting forms. 

What an absolutely badass move by Plo. Getting R7 to cut the engines to tumble backwards behind the enemy so that he could take them out from behind. 

Fuck that blast shot from the canon just hit the clone flying that LAAT/i in the head. That was brutal.

Yas Rex, beat the shit out of that Zygerrian slaver!

Well that’s not gone well.

Omg that’s the moment Rex stabs the first Zygerrian slaver with his own electro staff. He just whirls around and stabs him with the Zygerrian slaver behind him. Also, the look afterwards. That glare. I am on the floor. 

Rex fighting that Zygerrian slaver is just So. Damn. Hot. And then he headbutts him with the most perfect keldabe kiss. And then the way he just stands there afterwards and gets a hero pose with the camera framing him from below. Sir. Please. Have mercy. 

The music is so good here. It’s really heightening everything and taking it all up a notch. Several notches even.

Ahsoka just magically knowing how to open the doors to the enslaved Togruta colonists. Blah blah movie magic blah blee yes I know.

Anakin looked so disgruntled at the canons having ray shields. Not worried. Like it was an irritation. How dare the canons ruin my fun with ray shields. Booooo.

WOLFFE

Finally get a good look at Wolffe’s bucket and he’s got 3 gold rectangles above his left eye, which isn’t the one he lost to Ventress. He’s also got funny looking spikey shapes beneath the lower split of his visor. Are those supposed to be fangs Wolffe? Oh, and there’s some triangles along the sides as well, under what passes for cheekbones on his bucket. His visor is also narrower than the other clones. It’s got a raised white lining around the outside. I wonder what that’s for. It's a different shape too.

Hello to the other two Wolf Pack clones in the background. I don’t think I’ve seen the marking of the one on the left but his helmet looks cool. The markings kind of look similar-ish to the Rishi eel on Fives’ bucket. Maybe this is Comet? Just checked Wookieepedia and yup, it's Comet. Hi Comet! I wonder what the design on his bucket is. Does anyone know?

The other Wolf Pack clone looks pretty standard apart from the grey lower sections of his bucket (which Wolffe also has) so I’m going to go with this being Sinker based on what I could see of their armour paint in 4.5 ‘Mercy Mission’.

Admiral Coburn seems about as no nonsense as Wolffe. I can see them getting along fairly well.

I don’t think that cruiser is a Venator. It doesn’t look big enough. Just checked Wookieepedia and it looks more like an Arquitens-class light cruiser.

Omg the “I’m no Jedi” scene has arrived.

“I know a Jedi won’t killed an unarmed man.” Obi-Wan: Have you met my very much not-a-Jedi friend?

The way Obi-Wan looks over at Rex like he’s the loophole out of this situation. 

Batman baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam

Rex just flings that electro staff like it’s nothing. He impales the Zygerrian slaver through his own chair. This post by @nikolaislanstovs has some fantastic contributions from @thatfunkyopossum, @norcumii and @anundine that break down just how strong Rex is in this scene. That electro staff isn’t pointed. It’s blunt. And Rex still hurls it through the Zygerrian slaver and through the back of his thick chair (that is presumably made of some kind of metal) so the entire head of the electro staff and more is sticking out of the back of the chair. The strength. Sir, please contain yourself. Actually, no. Don’t. Your particular brand of unhinged is perfect. 

I’M NO JEDI

AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA OMG REX. SIR. OMG. You can impale me anytime.

As much as I love this moment, I expected it to be more. It’s another one of those major moments in the lives of the clones that end up being very brief moments in the show. I’ve rambled on about this before, most recently in 4.10 ‘Carnage of Krell’ so I’m going to stop myself before I keep blithering on about the same point.

That Zygerrian slaver and his silly hover chair made a particularly satisfying thunk when they crashed into the screen.

That is a tight fit for the cruiser. Good parking job whichever clone was flying.

Look at the Wolf Pack run along the top of the cruiser!

Aaaaaaaaaah they’ve got jet packs and Wolffe's kama is flapping behind him and he leaps off the top of the cruiser like a superhero and aaaaaaaaaaaaaah. 

Look at them all leap into the air and fly around! I love them all!

That’s a squad of 5 from the Wolf Pack. I wonder who they all are. Ok one of them is the clone with the somewhat Rishi eel style paint so I’m just going to run with the idea that it’s Comet. Oh, turns out the triangles on the sides of Wolffe’s bucket look like teeth. We get it Wolffe. You’re a wolf. Bless him. The paint on his vambraces and upper arm armour is also grey and finishes in spikes. Plus I think he has the same 3 gold rectangles above his eye on the other side (so the eye that he did lose to Ventress). He’s also got a tiny upside down red triangle in the middle of the forehead of his bucket. Fives had the same one. I wonder if this means something, or is supposed to denote something. Is this an ARC trooper thing? Wookieepedia doesn’t list Wolffe as an ARC but he’s got a kama so I’m going to go with the theory that he is one. 

Ahsoka saving the falling Togruta colonist by catching them physically and with the Force. More canonical evidence for my Tech is saved by a Jedi headcanon. 

How are the Togruta colonists not shredding their hands sliding down the cables?

Wolf Pack clones saving the other falling Togruta colonists by catching them using their jet packs! More canonical evidence for the Tech saves himself with the secret jetpack he’s made in his pack headcanon.

The Wolf Pack clone that saved the Togruta with long montrals had grey paint on the bottom section of their bucket so let’s assume that’s Sinker.

“That’s everyone. We have to go. The facility’s breaking up.” He’s so gruff and no nonsense and grumpy. I love Wolffe so much.

The music is so grand and triumphant here. It’s been so damn good this whole episode. 

Obi-Wan looking like an absolute wreck. Man keeps loosing robes in more ways than one. At least Cody doesn’t have to pick it up off the battlefield this time.

“Surviving this will only strengthen the people.” Hmmmmm. That’s not always the case. Speaking from personal experience here. What doesn’t kill you doesn’t always make you stronger.

You can see Plo, Anakin, Rex, Obi-Wan and Wolffe standing in the background having a conversation. I can just picture Wolffe giving Rex so much shit for his Zygerrian outfit. The commander's group chat is going to have a field day after this. There’s going to be so much ribbing.

#watching the clone wars for the first time #the clone wars #star wars #tcw 4.13 #escape from kadavo #tcw 4.13 escape from kadavo #the clone wars 4.13 escape from kadavo #reaction #zygerria arc #captain rex #rex #plo koon #commander wolffe #wolffe #wolf pack #obi wan kenobi #obi wan #clone trooper warthog #warthog #star wars the clone wars

[nicodemuslily]

Side fight (clonetroopertournament)

Wolffe: Pop-corn?

Rex: Oh, yes. Thank you.

__

https://clonetroopertournament.tumblr.com/post/712870991690416128/wolffe-vs-rex-wolffe-rex

Let be honest, this fight was more a fight with the 501st fanpeople agains the 104th fanpeople. XD I voted for Wolffe because I love this grumpy bast*rd (and because I know that Rex will win anyway). 

(The guy chewed by Hardcase is Comet, and the one attacked by Jesse is Warthog.)

___

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

#star wars #star wars fanart #star wars the clone wars #star wars tcw #sw tcw #The Clone Wars #the clone wars fanart #clone trooper tournament #tcw fanart #501st #104th #ARC trooper Jesse #clone trooper Warthog #clone medic kix #clone trooper boost #arc trooper fives #sergeant sinker #clone trooper comet #clone trooper hardcase #commander wolffe #captain rex #jesse #warthog #kix #Boost #fives #sinker #comet #Hardcase #wolffe

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Wolffe has hella eye related trauma (obviously), but because he has the prosthetic it has to be regularly checked and he needs to put eye drops in it every day and he hates it. He has to poke at it and hold shit close to it and touch it and put stuff in it. More often then not it would end up triggering him for the first few months and it would take a long time to calm him down. But the check ups freak him out the most because he has to sit still in a chair while someone else pokes at his eye and puts shit in in and touches it, and that sends him into full blown ptsd attacks but they can be unpredictable because sometimes he faints, sometimes he forgets where he is and punches the medic helping him in the face, sometimes he freezes up and starts crying, sometimes he disassociates, and sometimes he has panic attacks. The 104th learned very quickly that someone needed to go with him and comfort him, which Plo usually took it upon himself to do and would let Wolffe squeeze his hand while the medic would flush his eye. But like his eye trauma extends to others too, if he sees someone picking at a contact lens or someone flips their eyelids instead out he get a little light headed.

#commander wolffe #104th attack battalion #the wolffe pack #tcw #the clone wars #star wars #the prequels #headcanon #plo koon #sinker #Boost #Comet #warthog #my post #the clones #clone trooper

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Hi, hello there~ Are you still accepting unhinged asks? If so, in the nudity comfort scale – ranging from “occasionally engages in streaking, as enrichment” to “s/o won't see his ankle until at least three years into the marriage” – how would you sort the 501st (or your favorite squad!)?

Abso-fuckin-lutely I’m still accepting unhinged asks!! Gimme! (I’ve been feeling pretty grimy these last couple days, so writing anything series is fighting me a bit. This was a perfect little escape! Thanks!)

I know you said “or” my favorite squad… but why not both? (well, ish. This was already pretty much answered for CF99 in the fresher question, so we’ll ignore them)

501st

Rex – Oh this man is very hesitant to take the next step. Courteous to a fault, when things get steamy for the first time, he’s constantly pulling back until you gently guide his hands to your shirt, and you’ll likely need to be the one to start tugging at his clothes, too. He’ll just worry he’s overstepping unspoken boundaries or moving too fast. After the first time that tension gradually eases, though. He isn’t likely to stroll naked and proud through your home anytime soon, but he may join you in the shower, and, if you ask nicely, he might start leaving his shirt off at night.

Echo – Okay, he’s not a prude. Really. He just makes sure to let you take the first step. Once your intentions are clear, however, he’ll readily pull his shirt off knowingly watching your face for the coming flush of appreciation. He’s not nearly as cocky as his twin, but he knows he looks good. While he isn’t likely to surprise you with a wealth of exposed skin throughout the day, he quickly figures out what seeing him walking around topless does to you and uses it to tease you on occasion.

Post Citadel – Much less confident. The first several times you get him undressed, you’ll need to shower him with constant reassurances that he’s still gorgeous, and even after, he’ll still have moments of doubt. His body is different. There’s no dismissing that. Just be patient with him. He deserves it, and he’ll eventually start to believe just how much you still love him.

Fives – He’s naked when you meet him. So’s Heavy. Don’t ask. Once you two get serious and if you’re receptive, he has no qualms in shedding the layers of armor and cloth, shameless of the body he’s proudly developed into stunning perfection. And for the life of you, there’s not a single argument to be made against it.

Hardcase – In his defense, he really thought Fives had taken his blacks, so ripping them off the arc seemed justified at the time. Of course, it wasn’t until later he realized he’d forgotten them on his bed… Aside from that initial mishap, however, he’s quite pleased with his physique, so he’s very eager to flaunt it. Constantly. So much so that you’ve taken to shouting a warning when you get home if you’ve brought anyone with you just in case he needs to cover up…

Jesse – He lounges in shorts and nothing else. It’s not even a sexual thing, he just likes relaxing like that. Give him the slightest encouragement, however, and that little garment goes flying across the room and he’ll have you in his arms before it hits the floor.

Kix – Medics are born without a care in the world about nudity. His. Yours. That drunk gungan at 79s. That being said, he’s not going to just strip the instant the door closes behind him. Undressing in itself is an act of intimacy, and he’s eager to savor that with you when you’re both ready for it. This man eases the clothes from the both of you like he’s unwrapping a precious gift, fingers slow and full of patient intent, lips smirking at your every gasp. He treasures the closeness of those moments, so isn’t likely to lessen them with casual nudity.

Tup – He really doesn’t even think about there being anything promiscuous to not wearing a shirt. I mean, he was practically raised by Fives and Hardcase, so that’s just a part of life. When he sees you noticing him the first time he casually goes about bare chested though, he’s simultaneously embarrassed and pleased. He’ll apologize and offer to cover up. Don’t say yes. Don’t you dare. You worship that sweet man like the treasure he is. He’ll be a bit more aware of being dressed around you afterwards but is happy to change that by your request.

Dogma – You don’t even get to see his arms until after marriage. Is it worth it? Yes. Does he damn near have a meltdown when you take off your shirt? Also yes. It’s almost concerning. After two or three nights, however, he actually calms down pretty quickly. But only with you.

104th

Wolffe – He doesn’t really flaunt like, say, Fives and Hardcase. Flaunting implies there still being a need to attract you. He knows you want him. There’s no shame or really even thought given to underdressing – it’s just a step he needs to get through in order to take you like you’ve been begging him to all night. You undressing, however, is something else entirely. He goes perfectly still, watching you utterly enraptured. Seeing you bare is something he’ll never get used to. While he doesn’t feel the need to try to lure you to bed by showing skin, if you wander about in, say, shorts and a tanktop, he’ll forget whatever he was doing and just stair at you with that hunger in his eyes until you notice him. Then it’s only a question of if he takes the time to get you to the bedroom first when there’s a perfectly good countertop right there…

Sinker – It depends on his mood, honestly. If he’s feeling good, he’ll go about shirtless feigning ignorance to what it does to you. If he’s not in a great headspace though, he’ll barely let you ease him out of his armor to snuggle up next to him even though he knows it’ll make him feel better. This man has a lot going on in that head of his, so being adaptive and patient is a must.

Boost – He’s a goofball through and through. He’ll go about in his skivvies like he forgot to put on pants just to see you blush. “Oh noooo, oops; how long has that been like that? I’m so embarrassed.” And then proceeds to not put pants on.

Warthog – Similar to Jesse, he likes to lounge about in shorts when he’s relaxing. It’s not meant to mean anything – he’s just comfy. But if he notices you looking at him? Yeah, he’ll flex and flash you that little smirk, then laughs when you blush which only makes you want him even more. He’ll tease you about being caught staring at him like a piece of meat, but he loves it.

Comet – This sweet man is very much like Echo in this regards. He knows you love to look at him, but he doesn’t use that to try to get your pants off as quickly as he can. He’s far more eager to make sure the lead up has you both desperate for each other before even taking his shirt off. He’s in no rush and wants to savor every second with you. He’ll absolutely snuggle naked with you afterwards, though. He’ll even fall asleep like that, which is just such a shame come morning…

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#star wars #star wars head canons #spicy #spicy headcanons #star wars the clone wars #unhinged asks #104th #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #boost #tcw boost #sinker #sergeant sinker #tcw sinker #warthog #tcw warthog #comet #tcw comet #501st battalion #clone wars 501st #clone captain rex #captain rex #rex #fives tcw #fives #arc trooper echo #star wars echo #echo #hardcase #tcw hardcase

[clonetroopertournament]

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #clone troopers #commander colt #clone trooper warthog #wolffe pack

[dexters-bluemilkshakes]

i made "the 501st goes to Target", "the disaster lineage goes to Target", "The Clone Wars Squad ™ (+Satine) goes to Target", "The Rebels go to Target", "The Original Trilogy Gang Goes To Target", “The Driods of Star Wars go to Target (chaos ensues)”,  and now I give you:

the 104th go to target

Wolffe: whenever wolffe is at target, he makes sure to stock up on eye drops. he has always been super bothered by arid weather drying out his eyes, and when he got his cybernetic eye, it only got worse. desert planets and all of the sand getting in the joints of his eye are tourture and he refuses to go through that kind of pain again if he can help it. he and anakin don’t interact that much, but when they do, they either talk about ahsoka, or s a n d . 

wolffe also likes to walk with plo and they chat about the shenanigans the wolfpack pulled recently. they also use this time to talk about themselves. something about the warm lighting and the close shelves creating a sense of cozy closeness has always helped wolffe relax a bit and gets him to stop calling plo “sir” off duty. plo listens as wolffe talks about the chaotic clone commander (+ rex) group chat. wolffe also appreciates the advice plo gives him whenever he talks about this one girl who works at 79s that caught his eye. plo likes to to tease him, but in the end, he is the reason wolffe had the courage to talk to her at all. 

wolfe also buys a LOT of snacks and tote bags and speeder-bike locks. because he loves his squad. he does. but a man has gotta eat, so he locks away his candy bars in a bag.

the boys always get into it anyway, and wolffe is 87% sure that plo helps break in. they leave his favorite candy for him though, and wolffe has a hard time trying to complain about them. 

Boost: goes straight to the hair isle. sinker stands behind him, making pun after pun about the brand names of different pomade. boost started to frequent using a hair product obi-wan suggested to him. obi-wan was quick to insist that he himself doesn’t use it, but heard it was good through the space-grape vine. however, one time ahsoka told boost that he smelled like obi-wan, and its not like either of the two men wear cologne. 

so naturally, boost and sinker make up elaborate stories about obi-wan being involved in some conspiracy with the hair product company. they build upon it every time they go to target. plo overheard once, and gave them a blank look. they shut up, but then plo quietly added that obi wan hides the product in his underwear drawer, according to ahsoka. 

so. 

the story continues. 

boost also has a tradition where he lets sinker guide him around the store with his eyes closed, just to make sure he doesn’t hit any walls. boost will then randomly stop and thrust his arm out. whatever he points to, he has to buy. though sinker is only supposed to make sure he doesn’t run into anything, he has on multiple occasions steered boost into buying goofy things, like lingerie. 

Sinker: though he isn’t even allowed to wear them, he will occasionally buy graphic tees. he really likes studying the art, and he keeps them in the drawers with the pint for their armor and gunships, and calls them “design inspo”. plo got him an actual book about how to create dynamic designs, and sinker looked at it for hours. he keeps it in the barracks on coruscant, and its one of the things he misses most about the planet when he is away. 

sinker also has a love for monster energy, even though it makes him hyper for a full 24 hours. he’s literally had to go out running with some brothers on a different sleep schedule (or with anakin or any other person up at ungodly hours of night), just to get the energy out. his favorite is the meiloorun flavored one. he only ever gets one at a time. once he got two cans and saved the second for another night, but a shiny found it and that Did Not Go Well (the shiny is fine, he just ended up in medbay because he was shaking so badly. ten year olds with 20 year old bodies who are still ten consuming caffeine doesn’t mix well. sinker is 11. its only slightly better.) 

the most noticeable incident is the time sinker bought a can, and then went to walk with boost. while drinking it. it the store. he was going crazy, and boost always returns his energy,

so cue chaos.

they saw a shirt with a wolf on it and started running around, howling. they then ran into the pen and pencil section, and started throwing pencil boxes. they ended up fighting over a handful of pens, all of which snapped, and ink got EVERYWHERE. ahsoka was there with them that day and peeked her head into the isle in time to see it happen. she took a holo-pic before running away, her brothers chasing her. they forgot to tell anyone about the ink. it became an inside joke between the three, and they laughed about it every time they were together. the stain was still there even when ahsoka was all grown up, and boost and sinker weren’t there to laugh about it anymore. 

in fact, that stain outlived all of them. 

Comet: comet is basically dad jr. he walks around with wolffe a lot, and they tend to walk in a comfortable silence. they can only trust each other (and plo) to say they’ll be quiet and then actually follow through. comet holds the list of things they need to get and steers the cart while wolffe puts things in and evaluates prices. 

comet spends the rest of his time in the book section. he especially likes to look at dad joke books. he never buys any, but he memorizes and/or writes down jokes and tells them later. usually he likes to tell jokes when it’s completely silent or there is an awkward pause in conversation. 

comet is also tasked with getting everyone’s caf orders from the space starbucks outlet in the store. he’s the only one who has the patience to actually stand in line. he also gets those glass bottles of frappuccinos but he always gets. so many. he genuinely thinks that they taste good, but its a running joke that the amount of bottles he gets is directly proportional to how many reports he does in one day. 

Warthog: really likes playing tutorial games in the video game section. he doesn't have many games on his data pad, but he really loves videos games, especially ones that involve flying. plo bought the wolfpack a handheld console once, and while it officially belongs to all of the clones, warthog gets to hold on to it, since he uses it the most. plo always gives him enough credits to buy one new game per target trip for the “squad”. it always happens to be just enough to pay for whatever game warthog has been talking about the past few months. 

he also sometimes will join up with boost and sinker to be the chaos trio ™. warthog likes more quiet pranks in comparison to the goofy and large pranks the other too pull, for example, he bought a pack of pens and left it on the bottom bed of boost and sinker’s bunk. the two never found out who it was, but they knew someone else found out about the pen incident. 

(warthog had been one isle over, and figured out what happened). 

warthog also really loves trying on ridiculous outfits with clashing clothes. the pack gets together and votes on the most atrocious outfit, a picture of which gets sent to the group chat to become the new pfp for the time being. 

Plo: plo buys snacks and headphones and blankets and dad things ™ . He and comet and wolffe all pick out fun things to bring home to the pack. either something a brother mentioned they wanted, or a trinket that reminded them of someone, or just an extra blanket because boost and sinker keep fighting over them, the resident parents of the pack will make sure to grab it. 

when doing his quiet walks with wolffe, plo talks about his padawan days, or goes into the detail on the plot of the latest thriller holo-novel he’s been reading. wolffe always gives him crap about buying flimsi copies of his novels for stealth missions, instead of just downloading them to a private data pad. plo always gives some line about the aesthetic, but really, plo only did it once to try it, and it annoyed his troopers so much he only reads printed novels now. 

he participates in some shenanigans himself. he goes over to the bouncy ball crate and chooses one to carry with him through the day. whenever he senses one of his men nearby, he will gently float the ball over the aisles and bonk them on the head before quickly calling the ball back to him and running away. 

he doesn’t buy much for himself, other than the headphones. he always gets cheap ones because often times they break or he looses them. 

the rest of his money goes to buying things for his pack and ahsoka. 

when ahsoka accompanies them, which becomes less and less frequent as the war progresses, he helps her pick out new boots for battle, because she wears out the soles very quickly. jedi are not supposed to have worldly possessions, but he found a lamp shaped like a loth cat, and if anakin can have a pod racing poster in his room, plo figured ahsoka can have a cute-shaped light.

ahsoka named the lamp after r2.

the time they went to target after ahsoka left, plo bought himself a loth cat lamp. 

he named it after her. 

+bonus:

they dragged along baby ‘soka: in the first days of the war, before ahsoka was even anakin’s padawan, they took ahsoka to their target. she goes FERAL oh its so funny. it was only her second time there, and it had been YEARS since she last went, so she was very excited. eventually wolffe stopped her by kneeling in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. he calmed her down enough for her to hop onto his shoulders so he could give her a tour. plo buys her a lemonade at the space starbucks outlet at the end of the day, and they went to dex’s for lunch, on obi-wan’s suggestion. 

she l o v e s target so much that when she became anakin’s padawan, it was one of the first things she suggested they do to bond together. 

#star wars #sw #the clone wars #tcw #commander wolffe #104th #clone trooper #clones #clone trooper warthog #sargent sinker #corporal comet #clone trooper boost #clone trooper sinker #clone trooper comet #plo koon #jedi general #jedi master #ahsoka tano

[omaano]

How about we don’t make me feel things before lunch, @dukeoftheblackstar, huh?

#my art #tcw #clone trooper warthog #this is what happens when i go at it from memory and without reference #I know he's got a normal reg haircut but in my defence I cropped out his helmet and my own undercut is growing out and I need to deal #clone trooper #I used to sketch a lot in greyscale now it feels so weird T^T #I don't deal well with feelings but I really need to get back to work now #this warm up got a little out of hand oops #sketch #all I know about this guy is that he's a pilot and he's lost his buddy on a mission and I'm full of feelings thanks