One Day You Think: I Want To Die. And Then You Think, Very Quietly, Actually I Want A Coffee. I Want

One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.

Above the Ruins | one

Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

masterlist

In a world devastated by chaos and the threat of the undead, two destinies intertwine in an unexpected way. Ghost, a hardened ex-military man haunted by the horrors of war, encounters [reader], a lost and desolate young woman. With his experience and determination, Ghost decides to help her, and together they embark on a dangerous journey in search of a refugee center.

notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English. Two

Five days... Five damn days I've been hiding in an old abandoned building for a long time. Two days ago, my food ran out, and yesterday, my water. The desperation of starving to death or being hunted by those damn creatures haunted me. Stay here and die or risk going outside and also die. Trust was not something I had in abundance.

Looking through the window on the second floor, I observed people - or what was left of them - slowly walking, making strange sounds as if they were suffering. Maybe they truly were, but who isn't in these dark times? Look at all the chaos that has been happening in the past years.

Three or four years ago, a virus took over a small town in the south of the country. It started small, people with high fever one day, and the next day, they were eating their dogs and their children. And then even the dogs rose, along with the newborn babies, and sought food. Or rather, people. It was an outbreak, within less than a month, the city was overrun, then the country, and soon after, the world. At first, people were studying cures, but now? I have no idea. I lost contact with other survivors a long time ago.

Feeling my stomach growl for the tenth time just today, I decided to go out and try to find something to eat. The emergency stairs were safer since I only had a nail-studded bat to protect myself. I descended carefully, trying not to make too much noise. The city was hot, it seemed peaceful, as if nothing bad was happening.

Reaching the ground floor, I quickly looked around and decided to follow the main street. I couldn't go too far; the lack of food and poor nutrition in recent years hadn't helped me maintain my weight. I feel almost like one of them.

I walked slowly to a nearby grocery store, entered, and closed the door behind me. They were clever, but they still couldn't open doors. The store was a mess and almost empty. Luckily, I found a match, a canned corn, and a city map. Someone had surely passed through here.

Several months passed, and with them, my food was gone. I ended up going into the forest when I heard gunshots and those zombies running, like a herd. It was safer here, but also more scarce in resources. I felt myself growing weaker every day, colder than normal, and my clothes became looser. Maybe I'm starving to death.

I took the map I had and looked for the nearest river. Damn, it was about a four-day walk. I grabbed my backpack, which luckily or unluckily was light, and started my long journey. I tried to ignore the strong stomach pain, my trembling and aching legs, and the dizziness caused by lack of food.

The days seemed the same, during the day I walked as much as I could, and at night I tried to sleep as much as possible. Exhaustion consumed me. After some time wandering through the dense forest, I began to feel dizzy, my legs trembled and ached. I leaned against a bush, seeking shelter in case a zombie found me. It was hard, cold, and uncomfortable, but exhaustion overcame me, and I ended up falling asleep or maybe passing out.

...

Ghost walked cautiously and suspiciously through the dense forest. The only sounds that could be heard were the hoots of owls and the crackling of dry branches under his feet. He liked to search for supplies at night, as he could move through the dark corners of the forest and catch unsuspecting animals. When he heard a faint noise, resembling a moan, coming from a nearby bush.

With caution, he approached, holding his weapon ready to shoot if necessary. To his surprise, he found [       ], a young woman with a frail and malnourished appearance, huddled among the leaves of the bush. Her eyes conveyed fear, and her appearance showed the sufferings the young woman had witnessed in recent years.

Ghost quickly let his instincts guide his actions. He lowered his weapon and extended his hand.

"It's alright, you don't need to be afraid," he said, trying to sound gentle and reassuring.

[       ] looked at him with suspicion, but her need and exhaustion spoke louder. She quickly grabbed the hand of the older man, and he helped her to stand, revealing even more the precarious situation in which the young woman found herself. Her clothes were loose and dirty, her wrists thin, cheeks sunken, and her hair disheveled.

Realizing her situation, Ghost handed his water canteen to the young woman and quickly searched for food, finding a protein bar.

"I'm trying to find a refugee center. You can come with me if you want."

The young woman devoured the small bar of food as if her life depended on it.

"Refugee center?"

"Yes, some time ago, I received a message from one of my former coworkers. A refuge center has been established, and some survivors managed to reach it. I've been trying to find it for a few months."

The young woman looked at him. Ghost was tall, had broad shoulders and strong arms. A black mask covered half of his face, and his eyes were stained with some black paint. She didn't know if she could trust that man, but her options were scarce, and she knew she wouldn't survive much longer if she continued to live like that.

"I'll go with you."

"Alright. My name is Ghost."

"[       ]."

"I have a hideout not far from here. Let's go."

The young woman nodded and followed the tall man.

The cabin was old, and smoke rose from the chimney. Upon entering, she saw the crackling fire in the fireplace and a torn sofa with a messy blanket on top.

"Here," the man tossed a military jacket over her shoulders, and she quickly put it on.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome. It's just my job. Or it was."

"You were in the military?" Ghost nodded.

"How have you been managing in these past times?" he asked with curiosity.

"Not very well," she replied, her head bowed.

"Better than most, believe me. I'll get something better for you to eat."

"Please."

Ghost gathered a few more protein bars, canned soups, and more water. He handed everything to her and felt a tug at his heart seeing her eat so quickly.

Once satisfied, Ghost allowed the young woman to sleep on the sofa, as she seemed more in need, while he settled on the dusty floor.

"How old were you when all of this started?" he asked.

"16."

"How old are you now?"

The young woman thought, a long time ago she had lost track of time. She didn't know how old she was at that moment.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"19 years old," he replied, looking at her. The young woman looked at him with a confused expression.

"Three years have passed, and I barely noticed," [       ]'s eyes filled with tears, but she held back, not wanting to show vulnerability.

"Don't worry. There's still time to enjoy life. There are still many things waiting for you. This isn't the end," he tried to sound hopeful.

"And you? How old are you?" Ghost laughed.

"I'm 43 years old. I was a lieutenant in a task force. I retired some

time ago. A few months ago, I managed to get a signal and contacted my old comrade, who told me about the refuge. He and other survivors from the armed forces organized everything and are taking care of the survivors. I just don't know exactly where it is, but I have leads."

"That explains a lot. Thank you for helping me, Ghost. I hope one day I can repay you."

"You're welcome. I'm just doing my job as a human being," he squinted his eyes, giving the young woman the impression that he was smiling.

She slept well that night. She deeply believed in that man, seeing him as her protector, and Ghost felt the need to protect that young woman. These three years without seeing anyone had changed him. And he didn't hate it.

notes: This is my first fanfic posted on Tumblr. It's a bit short, I apologize. The story was also posted on AO3 and Wattpad. Please let me know if there are any spelling errors. I hope you like it!

one thing i need to start living by is “become the thing that you want” if i want friends who throw themed parties maybe i should start throwing those parties. if i want someone who writes me love letters maybe i should start writing letters for the people i love. if i want to hang out at museums and pretty cafes maybe i should invite my friends to these places. and maybe even then i won’t find the kind of people i want to be around. but then i would have become the exact person i want to be around. and maybe that’s good enough.

Tiger I want your opinion on this please?

Tight, muscle, trim Price

or

Dad bod, little paunch, but strong muscle Price

🤔

DAD BOD PRICE*

All day long anon, all day long…he’s a little bit softer round the middle than the other lads, but you know he’s 2x as strong 👀

*My opinion, but all versions are good, just like all bodies are good*

Before you ask, no I don’t play cod. And no, I don’t plan on playing cod. Did I still watch the campaigns in their entirety just for this man? Yes. Yes of course I did.

Just blocked another blog that wrote headcanons for "TF141 + König".

They listed Ghost first, König second, ... and Gaz dead last.

If you want to write König & Ghost HCs only, that's fine, but please don't do it like this. If you love König then write for König. Don't pretend what you're doing in this case isn't still Gaz erasure.

List König LAST if you're genuinely writing for "TF141 + König".

Your racism is showing.

.