Tumgik
#they're going back off sonny jim
piranhartist · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kinda recent-ish I got attached to goro's beta design and personality all over thanks to some rp shenanigans with my partner, so much so that I made him canon hPDSHFKJ
19 notes · View notes
mlmxreader · 1 year
Text
Cost of War | Alfie Solomons x m!reader
anonymous asked: Hello 👋🏼! You doing good? I hope so 🖤. May I please humbly request of you something using the following prompts for Alfie Solomons X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Do not leave my side"+"Would you do as I fucking say for once?"+"Don't try to stop me" Alfie and reader get into a sticky situation where there doesn't seem to be an escape. But then reader has a crazy idea to try and get them out, one that Alfie has strong opinions about. (As always, this is just spit balling, all creative liberties to you of course!!) Thank you 🖤! 🐍anon
summary: stuck in the trenches, Alfie isn't exactly keen on the idea you come up with to escape and to try and find a way to live another day.
tws: war, warfare, bombs, swearing, smoking
support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy
The trenches were being bombarded by heavy shelling, there was no possible way out; you were trapped within a cavern of dirt and wood, your weapons scattered amongst the rubble before you as you fought against every instinct to run out and to try and gather the men.
But there was someone stopping you, someone with common sense. Alfie wouldn't let you run off, he wouldn't let you go and risk your life, even if it was for the right reasons; the war had taken everything from everyone, it didn't need to take his boyfriend away, too.
He clenched his jaw as he pressed his back firmly against the wooden pillar behind him, chewing at his lip; as Captain, it was his job to ensure that the men stayed alive, it weighed heavily on his shoulders that he couldn't. That they were all scurrying like rats to find shelter amongst the endless bombings.
But he couldn't let it get to him, not when his Corporal was hiding with him, pressing his face into his shoulder. Alfie sighed, shaking his head as he watched the dirt and wood and metal fly up into the air with great clouds and thunder that made everything shake. Made the wood cry out in agony as it tried to remain stiff and strong.
"There's machine guns to the south," you started, "if we're quick, we can get to them and beg for safe passage."
"Ask the Jerries for safety?" Alfie scoffed. "They'd fuckin' shoot the pair of us."
"Alfie, they're not that different to us," you sighed. "You know that. They're just like us - you said it yourself, there's no enemy here."
He grumbled, knowing that he did actually agree; there was no real enemy, just as there was no victory and no glory, there was no winner and there was no justification.
Such a war could never be justified. Those who died were the lucky ones, they didn't have to see more death. They didn't have to see the destruction. They didn't have to live with knowing that they had seen boys as young as fourteen die on the battlefield; alone and scared.
All alone. Never to see their mothers or to run home from the sweet shops again.
Alfie sniffled, licking his lips.
He knew that you were right, more than anything, he knew that he shouldn't have scoffed at the suggestion of seeking the Germans out for safety; they didn't often react violently when men surrendered and asked for safe passage. He sighed, shaking his head.
"When we're back in Camden, you're gonna fuckin' owe me, sonny Jim," he warned. "Y'know what, don't you?"
"Wouldn't think of anything else, Captain," you hummed.
Another shell dropped, and you found yourself pressing your face against his chest; your jaw clenched, hands gripping tightly onto the lapels of his coat as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut.
Your first instinct had not changed whatsoever. Whether it was Camden or the trenches of the Great War, your first instinct had always been to get Alfie when things went south. But you hadn't been in Camden for three years; you weren't even sure if you were going to go back there.
You never wanted to fight, you had always been critical of the war - but you couldn't let Alfie go alone. You couldn't let him die alone like so many before him. You wouldn't. You pulled back, breathing heavily as you swallowed thickly.
"We need to leave this fucking deathtrap."
Alfie nodded. "You wanna try the Jerries, don't you?"
You nodded. "As your Lieutenant, I think it'd be smart. As your partner, I think it's the best chance we have of living."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You stay behind me at all times. Do not leave my side."
"Alfie, no offence but your German is shit," you told him. "Let me lead the charge."
"No," he hissed. "You fuckin' let me lead, if they start shootin'-"
"They are just like us!" You snapped. "They are men with mums, dads, brothers, sisters, friends - they are just like us! They wouldn't fucking shoot men searching for survival!"
"Yes they fuckin' would!" He raised his voice slightly. "We are at fuckin' war! It's every man for himself! If they see you, they'll shoot! Would you do as I fucking say for once? Instead of fuckin' actin' like you're invincible!"
You pushed yourself away from him, huffing as you shook your head; you didn't care about weapons, making your way towards the south when Alfie suddenly jerked you back to his side.
"Alfred! Don't try to stop me, you bastard!"
"Shut the fuck up," he raised his hands, palms facing out as he started to head south with you. "If we die, I'm fuckin' killin' you myself."
"Oh, fuck you," you huffed, copying his actions. "We're not gonna die."
Alfie didn't agree with it, but it wasn't the Germans he was disagreeing about; more than anything, he knew what war did to men. It broke them, beat the humanity out of them, smothered all sense of compassion and kindness, destroyed every ounce of decency that they had; it wasn't their fault.
The war ripped the heart and soul out of men, and stamped on it like a cigarette end.
War was the best friend of the grim reaper, and was a hungry beast that swallowed everything it could sink its jagged and blunt teeth into.
He kept you close to his side, and when you reached the Germans, he allowed you to take charge; he didn't want to admit it, but he was proud of you for negotiating well enough with them that they allowed you onto their side.
The deal was that you and Alfie could hide with the machine gunners while the shelling continued, but after that, they couldn't risk fraternising with the enemy; one boy gave you cigarettes, which you were grateful for, while one of the men gave you and Alfie a tin can filled with water to drink from.
"Ready to admit you were wrong?" You asked him with a quirked brow.
Alfie huffed. "If I didn't love you, I'd tell you to stick it where the sun don't fuckin' shine."
You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder.
Alfie frowned. He never heard you laugh properly anymore; it was always soft and short.
War had taken your laughter. Just as it had taken his trust in others.
War took everything from everyone.
21 notes · View notes