#platoon wolfe

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I imagine Wolfe is the type to know you're in love with Barnes.

It is his job to overseer the platoon's comings and goings.

He gets it.

I think he's the type to be fully aware of it; like, the man's quietly noticed, he's assessed it, and in a sense he really carefully swerves around the fact like a slithering eel navigating dangerous, jagged rocks in an undercurrent, swimming to the desired location. Heck, he might even awkwardly joke around the fact you've developed your (one sided?) affections as a way of friendly, inoffensive small talk like someone who's read a page or two from the 'How to establish good communication with your infantrymen' manual guide; Wolfe would be here engaging in banter around that bit of reality like he doesn't care who you have feelings for in your down time so long as it doesn't affect your work performance. In a way, he does have teensy, tinsy upper hand over Barnes the way he's probably never had before nowadays, though. A teensy, tinsy upper hand over you. One of these weeks, months or even within a year he figures, Barnes is going to be unable to help himself and do something bad. Well, a bad thing he cannot easily get back from because that man does bad constantly.

And Wolfe might just let it escalate.

He lets it escalate pretty often, but this time, with a sense of decidedness.

His own haphazard cowardice and lack of spine coming rather in handy as he just tactically lets the next war crime in tow take place, or turns a blind eye to (yet another) illegal killing in a line up of many others --- he might testify in Barnes's favor...or hey, if he feels like it, might just testify against him all while pretending he'll have the man's back. Nah. He wouldn't do that. Testifying against Barnes means that he'd paint himself as even more of an inadequate leader for not being able to control the Sergeant who's also simultaneously absolutely necessary for the survival of this outfit, but he sure loves pondering it and weighing the idea in the back of his mind; the notion that he could basically do whatever. That he has that sort of power over someone more powerful than himself. He's damn afraid of that man. That man's eyes alone make his blood freeze up, but Wolfe is a weirdly patient man in his own way. Wolfe can wait. If this ill perceived love of yours doesn't extinguish and die down naturally once you inadvertedly, he figures, realize that Barnes is no good and a messed up, cold, callous man who's only true mistress is war, he can always step in. If you don't 'grow out of it', he can always write down a real discreet report concerning the fact that Barnes is a bad egg. That while an exemplary, experienced soldier, he has a propensity for extreme violence. A negative impact on collective morale and all that. Might just mail it to the higher ups to get the man away from you. Have him suffer legal ramifications. Have him penalized in some shape, way or form real covertly. Or he might just wait and do nothing; there's a saying after all. He doesn't recall who said it. Could be Lao Tze or Confucius; Sit by the river and the water will bring you the corpses of your enemies all on its own.

Barnes is on a warpath to his own destruction.

Sure, the platoon vastly depends on him and Elias.

Man might just get himself killed or captured and once he does...well, it's not that Wolfe would rejoice per se. He might just anxiously chuckle a little, privately, to himself. You know, in that way the brainy kid who was occasionally pushed around might when the bully ends up in detention. Then, he might get scared because he'll feverishly ponder what the fuck he'll even do without Barnes; who will keep all these men in tow. Shit. Well, shit. But, one thing is for certain; His path to you would be open then. You'd grieve. You'd cry. Heck, you might even be devastated and emotionally closed off. Barnes might've even had a hand in ruining whatever positive outlook you had of him, but then again, Wolfe doesn't count on it. He knows how people in love can be. They see no flaws and even if they see them, they like what they see. He knows, because he loves you even though love another person to the degree he's willing to ignore it and work around it. He could be there, making you an offer you cannot refuse. Telling you how you don't want to fly back home empty handed, especially not in this distressed state of mind. How you need somebody. So, why can't that somebody be a friend? It's the 1960's after all. You might've been a servicewoman, but what all families want is for their little girls to settle down. So, he could write them. He could write his folks too. Tell them all about you. Man might even outright say it is preferable to be with someone who loves you more than you love them. Sure, he packages it as a dumb joke, but deep down he really means it. Do you genuinely want to cauterize soldier's gangrenous wounds for years and years to come and watch men like Barnes die over and over and over? Because there's always going to be men like Barnes. And you'll never be able to talk them out of their own destruction. Is that preferable to you? Instead of having someone take care of you?

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Don't think so.

Frankly, this is nowhere confirmed, but, read between the lines, I have reason to believe Barnes was plenty broken even long before the war; like, there was no point in time when Barnes was happy-go-lucky and unpolluted by an inner darkness, I think --- as I said in the past, he strikes me as the type who had such a difficult and rough upbringing by default that he was already several types of shattered and jilted by the time he should've been a fresh faced, hopeful Cherry on his basic training and first tour. See, I don't think he ever had it good and that by extension, ironically, made him a prime candidate to be a soldier (and an effective killer) in the first place; Severely impoverished, undereducated, born and bred around gun culture and the culture of intergenerational military service in the boonies of the Deep South, the lack of opportunity or upward mobility, no viable jobs, maybe even rampant alcoholism, levels of incarceration and hopelessness among the menfolk, some isolated mountain community cut off from the rest of the world where god knows what went on and you've got a recipe for a very bitter and resentful eighteen year old Barnes who already had a chip on his shoulder day one. What Vietnam did to him later was only adding to the heavy, dyed-in-the-bone baggage that was already there, making his circumstances fully unique. That man arrived in-country already some type of broken.

Wolfe?

Wolfe on the other hand gives off the impression of someone who had enough privilege to get sent out to some prestigious military academy and learn about war and the hardships of war rather than actually suffer any day-to-day hardships himself --- everything bad about life he ever saw was only detailed academically in books and encyclopedia and societal problems were like a distant, abstract thing most days to the degree that even when he's actively in Vietnam, boots on the ground, landing a position he had a diploma and the rank for, but not the actual experience or the grit, he isn't actually fully processing the severity of the situation and everything around him. Why's that? Because unlike Barnes, Wolfe's upbringing and life before the war was one of infinitely more cushiness and by extension, safety, which is exactly why he can never be as broken as his Sergeant, seeing as how Wolfe probably still hopes for something in his slightly air-headed, waspy naiveté (Maybe the war ending more or less non-eventfully, a promotion, sucking up to enough people that he smoothly flies under everyone's radar, appeasing a pushy family with high standards and expectations by serving to completion irregardless of how badly he does it? Who can tell.) and Barnes, in his infinite cynicism, hopes for nothing except perhaps, for victory, being entirely nihilistic and as such, infinitely more dangerous.

Key difference is; these two weren't raised the same.

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Platoon Characters; Kinks.

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― To make it simple and concise, how about kinks that are absolutely more or less fundamental to the character in question because I think Chris Taylor loves happy embarrassed girls. What's that you may ask? Oh, you know. Women smiling coyly / shyly at the camera, looking happy and "embarrassed."  to be caught, supposedly unawares in a situation that could seem very vaguely compromising or suggestive. Up hikes the skirt. Maybe a garter was accidentally ripped. By accident, so they say. Oops. The type of stuff you'd see, ironically and extremely fittingly, on the inside of a soldier's locker coming from flirty pin-up models that dazzlingly wink at you from their inviting centerfold. It's both the most innocent and simultaneously filthy fetish imaginable, depending, of course, of the context it's placed in. Almost boyish, but not quite --- in fact, it sits right there on the edge of something cheeky and something possibly darker which is the best way to describe Taylor himself. He could lean towards something very sweetly vanilla or something pretty raunchy. Almost risqué, but not quite. Not just yet. All it takes is one step for it to all turn either-or with him. One step towards happy and enthusiastic consent and another step away from it and into the realms of voyeurism and wholly blurred lines.

― Man, King just loves pussy. Can we count that as a character-making kink? Because that's it for him, just about. Loves fucking it, loves seeing it, loves thinking about it, loves playing with it, loves eating it, loves his face ridden by it, goddamn loves smelling it too, just for it's own sake. Loves them all shapes and sizes and just about everything surrounding them. What else is there to say? That's what it boils down to for him. He doesn't need elaborate kinks or fetishes when it's all right there for him, the essence of it all. And everything else, man? It's a distraction from what truly matters in this game. People get so bogged up in complex desires and labelling them in precise order they get distracted from the real prize right in front of their faces (or sometimes on their faces). He can get oddly philosophical about it, believe you me, which almost makes me think he has a thing for cunnilingus and body worship (where he's the giving party) but never once is it referred to as such. The body worship part, that is. The cunnilingus bit on the other hand? Yeah, it's announced loud and clear and constantly to the degree almost everyone very well knows and can guess what King likes, but that don't bother him one bit because he wants everyone to know because he's proud of it.

― Even though he might claim the exact opposite, I think O'Neill loves it when someone bites, scratches, slaps, pushes him around a bit, tells him what to do, takes control, gives him orders galore and is overall mean to him; and you could very well say this is a professional deformation brought on by the army and him brown-nosing and keeping the company and the side of some pretty mean people by choice, but whatever the case, it bled into his sexual habits and turned into what you can only call a fetish, through and through. Again, he is very likely of trying to (haplessly?) present the exact opposite image; how he's here putting these people in their place and how he's so very good at it, how he does as a man should do, and man, the broads worship him for it, but it's far from the truth as it can be. He melts into a stuttering pile of putty in the hands of whoever gets even vaguely dominant around him to the degree it goes beyond the bedroom and pretty much turns into a lifestyle. He becomes a partner entirely eager to please and the king of all biases where his significant other is concerned. They can do no wrong in his eyes.

― Elias is a selfless giver. He's a giver to the point where your kinks become his kinks just based off of the fact how much he's willing to please and make you feel good and what's better, it is truly his pleasure to do so because he loves you and there's no two ways around it. Not a bit of strain, begrudging, irony or ill will towards the whole thing. You like it? He adapts to it. Draws out some very tenderly put limits if he thinks you're in over your head, but for the most part, he's extremely flexible. He adapts and never even brings up what he likes because it so happens what you like he likes as well. Might almost be worrying and have you thinking that he's here depriving himself of something or somehow suppressing his own personal wants but all you could be met with is a blissed out, serene smile as he explains that this is what he wants. You're what he wants, not some list of to-do of requirements. He has no desire that you're not involved or that doesn't revolve around you in now that you're with him. If we had to classify stuff in technical terms, he's probably the most submissive dominant out there. Or the most dominant submissive ever. Works either ways.

― Thinking nobody's gonna be surprised by this one but Rhah loves having sex while high with you. That's the it kink for him. Loves it if only he's high. Loves it if only you're high. Loves it when you're both high as kites. But, if there's Marijuana or any other hallucinogenic substance or varying intensities involved? Yeah, he's all game. He's fairly gentle, vanilla and a generally kind and considerate lover other than that and very much prefers it that way. It's lovemaking for him. Not sex. It's all deliberate preparation, smooth touches, long bits of foreplay, staying in bed all day for various rounds, equal opportunity giving and taking, lazy, lingering kisses and being genuinely in the moment. Pure intimacy. Heightened senses. The accompaniment of some sort of lulling tune. Candles lit and blinds on, baby. The setting bordering on being sensually ritualistic. You could even say Rhah's something of a die-hard romantic in his heart of hearts because it all is oddly romantic and there's no two ways around it. If he could cover the mattress full of rose petals and light some incense, he very well would. He's a greater talker during sex too, if need be. Fantastic at dirty talk too and can very well go on a long, narrative ramble that is as hot as the deed itself. Man can get you off with words alone.

― Wolfe has a (severe) praise kink. Being on the receiving end of it, that is. Again, another bit of wartime environmental conditioning turned fetish and seeing as how he wasn't the most respected or even obeyed platoon leader there is and someone praising him and telling him something's well done, that he's doing good, giving him that bit of reverence, acknowledgment, nod of approval...well, it just leaves him with his mouth agape because it's a novelty he's positively starved for in every regard, on a pathological level, possibly. In fact, he's so starved for it he might just try his hand at dominance if this desire is frequently sated seeing as how him having the upper hand? Having an important task to do and someone thinking he's performing it well? Someone actually coming to him for guidance? Letting him lead!? Liking him as he leads!? Him being in charge for once and him being in charge being respected? It's a rare and elusive high of power he might just get used to. Christ, just put the palm of your hand on his cheek and say something in the vein of 'Lieutenant, you've done so well.' and the man's gonna go discombobulate on the spot.

― Bunny's into all things gross. Grossout everything. Spitting. Blood. Fluids. Scratches. Wounds. Gosh, everything that can prove to be hideously fascinating is a thing for him, mainly because it's new, taboo, he can get away with it and it verges on shades of morbid and yeah, by extension, it's prohibited and hot. He's like a sick kid vivisecting a frog to see what's inside and doing it with the utmost glee. Well, yeah. That's him. His fetishes can range anywhere from playing with your saliva as foreplay to asking if he can bite you (playfully, we'd hope) purely so he'd see what it tastes like and all the way down to knifeplay, drawing blood, fisting, fucking you with the barrel of a rifle, placing a gun against your head mid-sex, scarring his name into your flesh somewhere as a keepsake or dripping hot candlewax over your skin because it's fun and curious. Thing is, he needs a limit and if he isn't given one one way or another, he might thread into some very dark places indeed because he enjoys everything he probably shouldn't. Notwithstanding that he's a fiendish imp. That's why he liked or likes being in the war too, in his own words, because he can do whatever he wishes without little to no consequences, the way he'd see it. And what's the point of sex if it can't be like war is?

― Thinking the likes of Junior and Crawford are generally just too young and green to have any concrete kinks developed to the point their kinks are just...girls, you know? Girls being girls. Girls. Crawford likes a biking tan line and rubbing down your skin with cream to avoid a suntan and my god when he was a teenager, Junior drew a girl in a cat suit and he hasn't gotten over it since, in fact, a drawing of a woman in a cat suit is right next to his bunk bed even as he's serving his time in The 'Nam. So, yeah, that's the extent of their kinks, pretty much. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but their likes match their overall age and experience and it shows.

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I don't know, it just makes perfect sense to me, you know?

Someone who frequently flops, is often overlooked, made fun of, in way over his head, yelled at (with good reason at times because he's very much responsible for people's lives), is stepped over due to more competent individuals taking charge even though he's the one with the higher rank? Someone like that being looked down on actually receiving words of affirmation? Praise? Complements? Why, it would be like watering a dry plant. I imagine Wolfe not only wouldn't know what to momentarily do, but his first impulse is to think you're being sarcastic (and maybe even respond back with a small joke at his own expense as he chuckles) right before he turns into a smiling, stuttering, at-a-loss-for-words mess once the fact settles in you're actually serious and you're not in fact taking the piss out of him. After that? He deliberately starts seeking out said praise like a dog chasing his own tail and does things purely so you would say something nice to him. Doesn't matter what it is. Doesn't matter what he does, but he wants and needs that reassurance like air to breathe and so, he latches unto you. He'll invent things to do, even if he fails, in fact, he might fail solely so you'd say it's fine and he's tried his best regardless, the rare mercy and tolerance also being oddly alluring for someone straight out of a military structure where kindness isn't and cannot be afforded on a casual basis. You're nice to him, and for the lack of a better word, that's hot. He'll literally just approach you, say what he did, usually for you as an act of service and it's genuinely a ploy so you'd utter the famous job well done line. Man will just sit with and smile and wait like someone expecting a treat or a pat. It isn't even necessarily in a fetishistic sense, although it could very well turn into that, but on a day to day basis Wolfe reaches out commendations just for its own sake. Might just start getting cockier over time too. Now he's a bit mean with everyone else. After all, you venerate and exalt him constantly so he can allow himself a bit of an ego.

As for kinks?

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― Platoon (1986.) Character Aesthetics, Part I / II / III / IV / V / VI / VII / VIII / IX / ?: Mark Wolfe.

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The turning point?

When Wolfe met Barnes --- because, consider it:

We don't know when this happened for sure, but it must've at one point.

But, see, up until then, all the soldiers were just...soldiers. Commonplace men. With commonplace problems, behaviors, quirks, patterns and weaknesses. Guys. Kids. Every-men. Collage dropouts, factory workers, draftees, country boys, drifters, teenagers, Ivy League dudes who wanted to try their luck at glory, individuals who came here solely to avoid jailtime, victims of the system, guys showing off their sweethearts back home like Gardener and constant, whiny complainers like Junior. Your basic, run-of-the-mill schlubs and grunts, you know? Barnes comes in, a man who's fierce reputation proceeds him, he has this unbelievable scar on his face, has been shot several times, has wounds that would kill or handicap most people, everyone's here whispering how he cannot die and that he's invincible and he's here right in this platoon. In fact, he's been continually in-country, warring, for years. It would be an outright walking, talking, breathing reminder of just how serious this conflict really is and what it could do to people. The vague threat of it wouldn't only just be out there somewhere in the jungle anymore or something telephoned about to Wolfe from a safe distance across the wire. It's right here, within his very vicinity and it's here stealing and usurping his authority. What's worse, Barnes is gathering sociopathic individuals like Bunny around him seamlessly just through the aura of fear and dominance he exudes alone. I think the notion would sink in with Wolfe, for all his pretense and keeping up a front, that he's no longer in the company of commonplace boys next door.

He's in the company of killers.

What's even fouler?

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SFW:

― Alright, random headcanons that come to mind to kick things off: He's genuinely Jewish, which is precisely why Red's and Barnes's mocking comment on the topic of 'Why? What you're saving up to be? Jewish?' seemingly stung so much and had him leaving the bunker with a acerbic, uncomfortable half-smile.

― Much like Taylor, he had family members serving in every war as far back as WWI or maybe even before, making his own presence in the military and in Vietnam itself something of a well-established tradition with great expectations foisted upon him by sheer default (expectations he has difficulties living up to) which is exactly why he was specifically educated at West Point with the singular goal of serving in the army himself, making Chris and Mark more similar than they initially seem, with the only difference being Wolfe was specifically tutored and groomed for this and Chris wasn't.

― Comes from a very affluent family, possibly having the wealthiest background in his entire platoon. College educated. Part of various brotherhoods and fraternities. Knows warfare solely from books, manuals, instructions and in the theoretical sense where he might've excelled with flying colors but once he was actually stationed on-field and in-country into the heart of an actual conflict all this learned and rehearsed school knowledge started falling short when he needed to demonstrate some practical knowledge and leadership skills. Turns out, you can't learn everything from a book and Wolfe's the poster child of that.

― Was always the popular guy back home...and entirely the most unpopular guy in his respective platoon. He was the charming rich boy in civilization and something of a dweeb in the army, for lack of a better word. Thing is, Mark Wolfe is wholly well-adjusted and even well-liked at home and entirely maladjusted and a subject of regular disdain with his fellow soldiers, which came as a genuine whiplash and surprise even to Wolfe himself who just downright wasn't used to something like this happening to him; a fatal flaw of his situation he constantly tries to rectify by endearing himself to the men under his command and constantly failing too.

― Despite of his shortcomings in his military career he's most likely out of all the boys to actually re-adjust back into civilization the best precisely because he doesn't excel at warfare, giving commands and killing. He's a normal schlub civilian at heart and ironically that's a trait most likely responsible for ensuring he'd have a vaguely normal life post-Vietnam. His existence is set for him back home. He's probably the heir to something big, has a business lined up waiting for him and there's technically nothing he lacks for. Wouldn't surprise that in the chance of him getting married even said marriage was arranged for him. We do come full circle with that; Wolfe didn't fight for a great many things which is precisely the way he is.

― Just not hardened enough. Which isn't bad. It's just bad in Vietnam.

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NSFW-ish:

― I mentioned this before and I'll mention it again, but, praise kink galore. Taking his whole personality and background into consideration, or at least the way I headcanon it was, man likes to know he's done well, that he's doing well so he can proceed doing what he's doing and garner even more praise from it. He hasn't received a lot of that during the war and he's probably received, to contrast it, a lot of back in the world, so taking this stark and sharp polarization into question he's probably starved for the praise. He's tasted it before and then he was left entirely bereft for during a very intense period of his life (Vietnam) so it really only exacerbated this need to the degree it turned into a bit of a fetish. He melts when he's told he's done a good job.

― Hard to tell if he leans more towards submission or dominance because Mark Wolfe wants himself to lean more towards dominance, establishing himself; like, that's what he's reaching out for because he likes feeling in charge and in control, something I envision plausible for someone who lacked said control back in the army, compensating for it through sexuality, which makes it slightly funny because with the right words, the right praise, the right look directed at him he's just as likely to start stuttering, pulling back, crumbling and being overly eager to please, so, really, who's to tell? He's a dominant who envisions himself a dominant all while being a pleaser at heart who's keen on pretending he ain't...until he is.

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― I mean, listen, Chris' probably expected to have some children. Wasn't that what he ran away from in the first place? Being conventional? Normal and ordinary? Just like his mother and father? Settling down? Adhering to tradition? Inheriting his status and doing nothing of note that's truly his own? Living a life where the path has be well trodden for him by those who came before? Depending how wealthy we tend to read Taylor as, heirs are undoubtedly something that was either wanted out of him before the war, during, after or generally all throughout his life one way or another, and while I don't think he minds kids as a concept (heck, he might even like them) I think he loathes the overall notion of being boxed in and having them because it's one of the to-do landmarks he's supposed to achieve for its own sake. Kids are fine. Just not under the circumstances his family and the environment he himself was born into expects him to have them which means I almost see Taylor having a long, rebellious and enduring phase where he doesn't have children on purpose precisely to combat this whole idea. Whether that makes him happy or not in the long run is a wholly different conversation, but point is he will make a difference and he will be himself no matter what.

― Which is the case for Wolfe too because I actually visualize him coming from a (military) family similar to Taylor's, in status, money and position but him actually walking the walk and having kids by choice and being...pretty good at it. Fairly well adjusted post war and what he lacked as Lieutenant in authority, skillset and success he might actually make up quite well as a dad, meaning...he'd be good at it. Meaning he enjoys it too, yes, you guessed it. What I'm trying to say is that while some people might be pretty bad at one lifestyle (this being the army and maintaining the upper hand of authority and respect) they could actually excel at an entirely different one (this being fatherhood) and Wolfe strikes me as the type. Strikes me as the type to be liked by his children too as opposed to his platoon who just...didn't really. Not tremendously, anyway. He wasn't cut for one time and place and he turns out be just perfectly well suited for the other and that's...not at all a bad conclusion to have. Quite the contrary. Might suffer from some stolen valor syndrome, admittedly, especially in front of his children who, judging off of daddy's stories, might think he was slightly cooler in the war than he really was, which I think would be the case for, say, O'Neill too. That man would paint such tall tales for his children they'd think he's won the war personally and singlehandedly.

― Kill me, but I almost see Barnes as a father of daughters. Multiple of them. Maybe even several. On purpose. That's what he wants and what he expresses to want. Sick of boys. Sons get brought up as a concept and he waves his hand dismissively with a disinterested, gruff 'Eh.' and doesn't go further on with any clarifications. Had a whole platoon of boys and by extension, countless surrogate sons and lets say by some happenstance he survives the war and returns home, he's had a whole platoon of boys and god knows how many of them he's lost, how many got shot, blown to pieces, smithereens --- so having biological sons of his own? Hell knows he'd only be recreating a dynamic he's left behind in the war and I think he's aware of that. Introspective enough to know the basic reality of things. He'd be the Sergeant all over again and the sons would be the grunts, but if they're all girls, that ain't as likely to be happening, is it? He can actually be Barnes instead of someone's superior. But then again, maybe that's exactly what he'd want in the most meta of senses. He's a lifer, after all. The war never ends. Just takes on different shapes in different places with different people. He becomes a father of sons and it's like he's sired another Taylor, another Rhah, another Junior, another Gardner, another Elias all over again.