Hey friends, Just a small reminder and something I learned today that I want to share with you:
Never let anyone's judgment shake you—especially when you’re not doing anything wrong. If what you’re doing brings you happiness, whether it’s writing, drawing, loving a character, or just enjoying your own space, then that’s enough. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, you have every right to enjoy what brings you joy.
Don’t let anyone make you feel strange, guilty, or “wrong” for simply being yourself. More often than not, the same people judging you are doing the very things they criticize—sometimes even more so!!.
I realized that today, and honestly, it made me feel sick. I was just vibing, minding my own business, and suddenly felt like I didn’t want to be around certain people anymore.
So please—keep doing what you love, no matter how “cringe” or just them judging you to make themselves look so good in front of you, This is your one life. Live it joyfully, authentically, and on your terms.
Have a nice day <3!!.
THANKS TACO! <3
Hii! Do have any cod ghosts blog recs? I'm newish to the fandom and looking for some more blogs to follow. ^~^
Hi, welcome to the fandom!!
Yes I do! I'll tag the ones I follow below :)
@blacktacmopsi @gunnrblze @milkteaarttime @thatonesillyducko @howtotwirlaknife22
There are more ofc but these are my faves 🫶
he is driving like the brakes are optional
Keegan hand the keys over
When i see the memes in this fandom get more notes (like from 70-100 or higher) than ACTUAL good fic, and then yall say we are having a lack of fics and hcs😭😭😭🙏🏻
u will be missed lo
Just when he thought that everything was alright, that everything was over and done with, that they had got their revenge and justice for all those people that had died, for Ajax - it all crumbled down in one minute
Rorke.
How the fuck did he survive?
He remembered Hesh had smashed his skull with a fire extinguisher, he himself had shot him straight in the chest with a twisting speeding bullet, and Rorke was drowned in water almost an instance after the glass broke. How could he survive?
Maybe this is why Rorke was such a dangerous Ghost. Keyword, was. He was no longer a Ghost, he had lost that title a long time ago when he had betrayed the squad. Elias had told him.
But why did he come back even if he did survive all that? Why was he so intent on taking him? Why not his brother? Why not both of them? Shouldn't Rorke have just run back to whatever hole he came out from and went back into hiding and recover from that hit? So why? Why did he take him with him despite everything?
Did he really remind Rorke that much of Elias?
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He abruptly coughed dryly as the thoughts in his mind swirled around, lying on his side, choking for those few seconds as he gasped for air.
Eventually, the coughing fit of a storm calmed down - not without leaving tears in his eyes, that is.
He was dehydrated. Thirsty and starving. Weak and frail. His throat felt like it was burning, an irritating tightness being felt as the reflex to cough kept attacking him over and over again like raining bullets. Like a thorn was lodged in his throat, and he couldn't get it out, an endless cycle.
He weakly shifted his head from the side-laying position to look up, eyes bleary. All he could see was that same old metal wire barrier between him and the outside world. It was dark outside, the dark looming trees blocking out any sort of excess moonlight as they silently wavered in the breeze, the scent of all sorts of vegetation and dark mushy wet soil wafting down to him.
It was quiet, too quiet.
Too peaceful. Like the calm after a storm. Expect, he was in the storm still.
He would have used this time to take a moment to collect his thoughts and maybe even get some rest - if only it weren't for the fact that pipes were all up his ass, to clense his bowels, and the dirt ground was crawling with insects. He couldn't lay down even a second without hearing the sounds of those fucking teeny tiny legs scittering and scattering around. It grossed him out, even if those things couldn't exactly hurt him. His limbs were tied, keeping him in place with no way to move around into a better position to avoid the bugs on the ground. Zero proper blood circulation, so he felt tense and tight in place.
He was literally kissing the filt on the floor, even if it was just the side of his face. It smelled like shit, like grime. He really wished he didn't have the sense to smell right now. Didn't it smell worse because one of the Fed's took a piss on him?
Well—not on him, more like near where he was placed. He couldn't remember exactly, though. His mind was fogged up.
He knew this wasn't even the beginning of what he would have to go through. All he knew was that his brother and the entire Ghost Team were coming to save him. They wouldn't leave him behind, now would they? He was sure that they were currently trying to track down his location. Maybe they had already found it and were making a plan to attack - though that was probably a stretch.
He reminded himself to relax, to not get too hopeful or excited. It had only been a couple of months, right? He wasn't too sure as to how much time had passed, but he knew it had a long time judging by the amount of weight and muscle mass he had lost. He knew his hands would be all shaky if he was told to hold a rilfe, hell, even the same pistol he used to shoot Rorke would have the same result.
If he was given a mirror, he knew that he wouldn't even be recognizable...would his brother even recognize him after all this? Would he have changed that much?
He tried not to think about the bad parts too intently. He knew the team was working on his case, after all...
No Ghost ever got left behind.
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Hesh?
Is...is that you?
He couldn't believe it
After so long, he had finally been found
Finally. Finally he would be given freedom and be reunited with the only family he had left. He would tell them all about what the Feds had done to him and they'll all help burn the place down, first was getting him to safety
He waited in the hole patiently, his heart pounding in anticipation. He waited, his body language tense and trembling in faint happiness. He knew he had heard his brother's voice, he swore he also heard that same rumble of Keegan's voice in line with Hesh's.
So, where were they?
His head was spinning as his back slumped against the dirt wall after waiting in place for 10 minutes. Did they lose his trail? Did they retreat? Did they get caught? What happened? There was no way they would leave him here.
No.
No, they weren't like that
Had he been dreaming about them?
No, it couldn't be. It felt too vivid, their voices, to be fake. He hadn't lost his sanity that much, right? Right. There was no way...
...then why would the voices suddenly disappear when he paid attention to them and expected something to happen?
He started to repeat the names of all the Ghosts to himself, mumbling silently from his bloody and cracked lips as his hands clasped together in almost a last attempt of desperation - as if he was praying. The memories of everyone he had flooding his mind like a tidal wave, the more notable memories featuring him and Hesh in the past, before they got into any of this, this whole mess. They had wanted to become something, not immediate soliders. But when Hesh joined, thanks to their dad, he also found himself joining, wanting to follow his brother...
If only he knew that he would be ending up here. And probably end up losing his brother, too. He had already lost his dad due to this job. Who else did he have to lose? Hell, even Ajax was dead. So, who was next? Him?
No.
They wouldn't kill him. He knew Rorke wanted him to himself. That man himself said he wasn't going to let him be a Ghost, ever.
Truly, he wanted to die. To kill himself to end all of this. But he didn't. His brother kept him alive. The idea that survival and freedom were still on the plate for him kept him alive. Even if it was slowly starting to slip away from his fingertips.
Qestion was, how long could he maintain this for before Rorke ripped his mind apart from the very stem and took a look inside to see what he could tweak and eliminate.
Could Rorke really make him forget who he was? He didn't want to believe it. But he knew what the Fed's were capable of. If someone like Rorke lost his way, there was no doubt that someone like him would have the same fate.
Question was how long his stubbornness could keep him going. Question was how long he could resist the Federation's advances. Question was how long he could hold on to his identity.
Hopefully, the name "Logan Walker" wouldn't become a former.
Hopefully, it wouldn't become a lost identity.
"I can change him" Why?did he shit himself?
I would like to formally apologise for my inactivity as a writer
(Pls still read my upcoming fics)
(Shaking in my boots)
David "Hesh" walker, save me David "Hesh" walker... Save me David "Hesh" walker
gang how i wish to finish these requests and write bo so bad
so many responsibilities so many requests
Discord server for cod ghosts fans in pinned post!also check rules before requesting!
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