Thank you all for the kind replies and the ask about part two. Hearing that you found the headcanons beautiful truly warmed my heart🤎.
HEADCANONS
Keegan is in love with a friend but won't admit it.
I will make the friend as a teammate!
iym "won't admit it" like he wouldn't confess and stay like this forver without expressing then hell yeah whatchu talkin' abt
and lastly before i start writing i don't wanna no one typing "Keegan would never be this emotionally gahook!🤓🤓" well guess what everyone fall in love and slip into it like a damn failure ballerina
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶
I'm staying with the mask...
Keegan is the kind of person who doesn’t easily give in to feelings—especially when it comes to anything that might distract him from his duty. It takes a long time for him to realize what he’s feeling, and even longer for him to even consider acknowledging it. Here's how it could play out:
Keegan’s realization about his feelings for you takes a few years, especially because he’s constantly suppressing it.
At first, he’s just focused on the mission, on the job. But over time, as you continue to be a steady part of his life—his teammate, his friend, and the person he trusts most—those feelings slowly sneak up on him. It’s something that builds gradually, like a storm he can’t ignore.
but it’s only after 2-3 years that he finally realizes what he’s been feeling.
In the early years, Keegan is too focused on survival, on getting the job done, to think too much about it. The team dynamic is important to him, but his view of relationships is still influenced by his sense of duty—no attachments.
Over time, though, the small moments between you, the way you laugh, how you handle stress, and the way he feels when he’s around you, start to make him realize that he feels something more than friendship.He doesn't recognize it as "love" right away, though.
At first, it’s just this pull—this desire to be near you, to protect you, to make sure you’re safe. It’s subtle but undeniable. By the time the realization fully hits him, it’s more of a feeling he’s tried to bury than something he’s consciously thought about.
Keegan isn’t the type to openly flirt or be obvious about his feelings, but it’s the little things that give him away.
You get injured on a mission? He’s the first one there, eyes scanning over you, jaw clenched.
“It’s just a scratch,” you try to joke, but he doesn’t smile. Just hands you a med kit and mutters, “Be more careful.”
When you’re on base, he always sits next to you during briefings. Never says why. Just does.
If someone else makes a joke about you or gets too friendly, there’s a shift in him—subtle, but noticeable. His eyes linger, his body tenses. But he won’t say a damn thing.
Keegan doesn’t do emotions. At least, not openly. So when he starts feeling something for you, his first instinct is to push it down.
If you ever get too close—physically or emotionally—he subtly pulls back. Keeps things professional.
“You’re overthinking it,” he tells himself when his heart races after you brush against him.
If someone teases him about you? He just gives them a deadpan look and changes the subject.
Even when he knows he’s looking at you too long, when he knows he’s thinking about you too much—he convinces himself it’s nothing.
You’re a teammate. A friend. That’s it.
He started to think he is so stupid and hating this.
It takes something big to crack through his walls.
Maybe it’s a mission gone wrong—maybe you get separated, and for a few agonizing hours, he thinks he’s lost you.
When he finds you again, relief crashes into him like a punch to the gut. But instead of saying anything, he just grips your shoulder a little too tightly.
“Don’t do that again.” His voice is low, rough.
“I didn’t exactly plan on it, Keegan.” You’re trying to keep things light, but he’s not laughing.
That’s when you realize—he was scared.
Not because he cared actually, he is caring for everyone is his team, but the times when sees you or anyone else in the team get injured he may lost it inside.
since *cough* ajax'x death *cough*
And that? That’s not something Keegan lets himself feel.
Keegan is sitting across from you, eyes trained on something—anything but you. The silence between you two is thick.
You try to break it. “So… what’s been on your mind lately?”
Keegan’s eyes flicker to you for a moment, before he shrugs, clearly unwilling to open up. “Nothing. Just… tired.”
He doesn’t look tired though. He looks distant.
There’s a pause, and you both continue to sit there in the quiet, and for a moment, it feels like he wants to say something—wants to talk—but he can’t.
"You sure?" you push, but when your eyes meet, Keegan’s gaze softens for just a split second before he pulls back.
“I’m good. worry about yourself.” typical he always talks like that.
But you know it’s more than that. And so does he.
After a particularly tough mission, everyone’s gathered around, sharing drinks and stories from the field. Keegan, ever the lone wolf, sits in the corner, keeping to himself from talking to the others.
But when you walk past him, you notice something: a fresh pack of bandages sitting on the table next to his gear, alongside some protein bars you hadn’t seen before.
“What’s all this?”
Keegan looks up from his seat, nonchalantly leaning back. “Nothing. Just thought you might need it.”
“Need what?”
“Bandages, snacks... whatever. You’re always running low on stuff after a mission.”
It’s a small gesture, but it doesn’t escape your notice. He’s paying attention to you. And somehow, it feels more significant than anything he’s said.
“Thanks.” You nod at him, unsure of what to say.
Keegan just gives a short, tight smile. “Yeah. No problem.”
But in that moment, you know it’s not just about the bandages. It’s about the care he doesn’t know how to express.
sorry i gave yall some boring missions-moments but guess what be prepared for base moments when the fun would happen
Base moments:
Keegan doesn’t mean to always sit next to you. It just happens.
During mission briefings, in the mess hall, even just sitting around waiting for orders—somehow, he always gravitates toward you.
At first, it’s subconscious. But then one day, Merrick calls him out on it. “Didn’t know you two were attached at the hip.”
Keegan freezes mid-motion, his fork hovering over his plate. His response is as dry as ever. “I sit where there’s space.”
But the moment he realizes how obvious he’s being, he starts overcorrecting—purposefully sitting across the room, trying too hard not to make it look like he cares.
It doesn’t last long. Eventually, he gives up because avoiding you makes him more irritated than anything else.
Being in the field means getting injured—a lot. And while Keegan prefers patching himself up, there are times when someone else has to do it.
After a particularly rough mission, you’re the one tending to a cut above his eyebrow. He sits still, jaw clenched, letting you clean the wound.
The problem? You’re too damn close. He can feel your breath, the warmth of your hands.
His brain tells him to pull away, but his body stays frozen. His heartbeat is a little too fast, and he swears the air feels heavier than it should.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters.
You gave a confused look with a smile, not missing a beat. “Like what?”
He doesn’t answer. Just stares straight ahead, refusing to meet your eyes. The moment you’re done, he mutters a quick “Thanks” and bolts before he does something stupid.
There’s a new guy on base, and he’s been way too friendly with you. Keegan doesn’t react—outwardly.
But you notice the shift in him. The way his responses are a little more clipped. The way he suddenly has a lot to say whenever this guy is around, mostly in the form of sarcastic comments.
The moment that really gives him away?
One evening, you’re joking around with the new recruit, laughing at something stupid like yall being just some sillies. Keegan, who’s cleaning his rifle nearby, suddenly snaps the bolt back a little too aggressively.
It’s not subtle. Everyone notices. Merrick raises an eyebrow.
“Problem, Keegan?”
“No.” His voice is flat. “Just making sure my rifle’s working.”
He doesn’t talk to you for the rest of the night, and you know exactly why.
Keegan doesn’t hover. At least, he thinks he doesn’t.
But you start noticing how often he’s the first one to check on you after a mission. Even if he doesn’t say anything, even if he just passes by while you’re getting patched up, there’s always a moment where his eyes flicker over to you, assessing.
One night, after a particularly bad op, you find him sitting in the common area, pretending to clean his gear HELP WHY AM I MAKING HIM ONLY DOING THAT—but it’s clear he’s waiting for you to come back from the med bay.
“You could just ask if I’m okay, you know.”
He doesn’t look up. Just keeps working. “I know you’re fine.”
You shake your head with a small smile. “Then why are you still sitting here?”
He still doesn’t look up. “Gear needed cleaning.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shut up.”
It’s late, and the base is quiet. You and Keegan are the last ones in the training area, neither of you wanting to sleep yet.
You’re sitting side by side, backs against the wall, exhaustion settling in after a long day.
“Ever think about what comes after this?” you ask, voice softer than usual.
He doesn’t answer right away.
When he does, his voice is lower than usual. “No point.”
“Why not?”
He hesitates. And for a split second, there’s something in his expression—something unreadable.
Then, he shifts, standing up abruptly. “Too much to do tomorrow.”
You watch as he walks away, and for the first time, you realize something.
He’s not avoiding the idea of the future.
He’s avoiding you in it.
The base was quiet, the hum of distant machinery and the occasional crackle of a radio the only sounds breaking the silence. You and Keegan sat side by side on a supply crate near the vehicle bay, the faint glow of the overhead light casting soft shadows across his sharp features.
It had started as another late-night conversation. The kind that happened when neither of you felt like sleeping, when exhaustion lingered but something unspoken kept you both awake.
You nudged his arm. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a ghost, you suck at disappearing when I need peace and quiet.”
Keegan huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Funny, ‘cause you keep showing up in all the places I go to be alone.”
You smirked. “Almost like you don’t mind the company.”
He didn’t deny it. Just glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his usual deadpan expression softening just a little.
There was a pause. A long, lingering moment where the air seemed different. He wasn’t looking away this time. And for some reason, neither were you.
Something about the quiet, the dim light, the sheer familiarity of sitting next to him made everything else fade. His face was close—closer than usual.
“You always do that,” he muttered.
You raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”
His eyes flickered downward for a second, barely noticeable, before he let out a slow exhale. “Make things... complicated.”
You tilted your head slightly, searching his face. His voice wasn’t irritated, wasn’t accusatory. If anything, he almost sounded... unsure. Like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying this at all.
You swallowed. “Is that what I do?”
Keegan’s fingers twitched where they rested against his knee. “Yeah.”
But he didn’t move away. He didn’t shift back into his usual guarded distance. If anything, he leaned in just a fraction—subtle, almost imperceptible.
And you mirrored him.
It wasn’t conscious. It wasn’t something either of you planned. It was just happening.
His breath was steady, controlled, but you could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his body tensed like he was warring with himself.
“Keegan…” you murmured.
His gaze dropped—to your lips, just for a second. His shoulders rose with a slow inhale, his hand flexing like he was fighting every instinct in his body.
The space between you was gone now, barely an inch left. Your nose almost brushed his, and he didn’t pull back.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
And for a moment, you thought he was going to close that last bit of distance.
But then—he stopped.
His entire body tensed, his breath hitching like he’d suddenly realized exactly what he was doing.
Like he’d been caught off guard by himself.
His eyes flickered with something—panic, hesitation, restraint—before he pulled away.
Not fast. Not dramatic. Just slow enough that it felt deliberate. Like he was forcing himself to retreat before he did something he couldn’t take back.
He cleared his throat, looking away. “I—” He shook his head. “Forget it.”
Your brows furrowed. “Forget what?”
He pushed off the crate, running a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze completely. “I gotta go.”
And just like that, he walked off, leaving you sitting there, your heart still racing, the warmth of his breath still lingering against your skin.
And wondering if he’d ever let himself stop running from whatever this was.
Keegan had already turned to leave, but you weren’t going to let him walk away again.
Not this time.
Before he could disappear into the dark hallways of the base, you reached out, grabbing his wrist. His body tensed immediately, like he expected you to let go, but you didn’t.
“Keegan.” Your voice was firm, unwavering.
He exhaled through his nose, not turning to face you. “Let it go.”
You scoffed. “That’s it? You’re just gonna walk off like nothing happened?”
Finally, he turned his head slightly, just enough for you to see his expression—calm, unreadable, but there was something underneath it. Something forced.
“Because nothing did,” he said flatly.
You let out a humorless laugh. “Right. So you just—what? Lean in like that for fun? Just a casual thing between teammates?”
His jaw tightened at that word. Teammates.
You stepped in front of him now, forcing him to actually look at you. His expression didn’t change. Not irritated, not angry—just cold.
“I don’t know what you think this is,” he said, voice steady, “but you need to stop.”
The sheer calmness in his tone pissed you off more than if he had just yelled at you.
“Stop what?” You folded your arms. “Want to spell it out for me? Since apparently, I’m the only one here acknowledging the fact that something’s changed.”
Keegan didn’t blink. “That’s exactly the problem.”
You stared at him, heartbeat loud in your ears. “What does that even mean?”
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “We were fine before. You, me—this team. Things were simple.”
Simple. The word hit deeper than it should have.
You swallowed, voice quieter now. “And what? You’re afraid that if we cross some invisible line, everything falls apart?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Just stared at you, expression unreadable, but you could see the battle happening in his head.
Finally, he sighed. “I’m saying I don’t want to do this with you.”
It was calm. Unshaken. Almost like he was convincing himself more than you.
Your chest tightened, but you didn’t back down. “Liar.”
Keegan’s gaze darkened slightly, but his voice remained steady. “I don’t care what you think you saw back there. I wasn’t thinking. And I won’t make that mistake again.”
You let out a breath, something heavy settling in your chest. “That’s what this is to you? A mistake?”
His fingers curled into a loose fist at his side, but he gave you nothing. No reaction.
“Go back to how things were,” he finally said. “Because this? This isn’t happening not with this kind of damn half apocalypse world.”
It was final. A solid wall thrown between you, built up in seconds.
You stared at him, searching his face for any crack, any sign that he was feeling what you were. But Keegan was a master at locking everything away.
And yet…
There was something in his eyes. The way he looked at you, the way his shoulders were too tense, his jaw clenched a fraction too tight.
He was lying.
You knew it.
But you also knew that no matter what you said, he wasn’t going to admit it. Not now.
Not yet.
So you stepped back. Swallowed the lump in your throat. “You're a piece of shit keegan.”
Keegan didn’t say anything. Just gave you one last look before turning and walking away.
And this time, you let him.
But deep down, you both knew—this wasn’t over.
angst
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶
When logan start seeing hesh as another parental figure
Idea: @tokillamockingbird427
Logan never really said it out loud. He never had to.
what if rorke didn't kidnapped logan even after elias death (me literally put a gif when rorke dragged logan)
But in the quiet moments, in the spaces between warzones and exhaustion, it was there—buried in the way he followed just half a step behind Hesh, in the way his eyes flicked toward his brother for silent reassurance, in the way he trusted him without hesitation, without question.
It wasn’t something he ever thought about. Not consciously, anyway. But then, their father was gone. Elias Walker—dead.
And suddenly, there was this gap in Logan’s world, a hollow ache where guidance used to be, where security once stood.
And Hesh—Hesh filled it. Not because he had to, not because anyone asked him to, but because he just did
જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Moments That Made Logan Realize
1. The First Time He Caught Hesh Watching Over Him
It was after a mission gone wrong, their bodies sore, exhaustion pressing down on them.
Logan had drifted off, too tired to move, but something made him stir in the middle of the night.
He blinked blearily, adjusting to the dim light of the safe house—only to see Hesh, sitting awake, rifle across his lap, gaze fixed on the door. Standing guard with riley laying in front of him sleepy.
At first, Logan thought it was nothing. Just instinct, just training.
But then he noticed the way Hesh’s fingers curled against his knee, the way his jaw was locked tight like he was forcing himself to stay awake.
Because he needed to make sure Logan was safe.
Logan didn’t say anything. He just turned over, swallowed the lump in his throat, and let himself fall back asleep—because for the first time in a long time, he could.
2. The Night Logan Almost Broke, and Hesh Held Him Together
They didn’t talk about him. About their dad.
But some nights, it was too much.
Logan wasn’t much for words, wasn’t great at explaining the weight pressing against his ribs.
But Hesh noticed. He always noticed.
One night, when Logan thought he was alone, he let himself feel it—that overwhelming, suffocating loss.
He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven.
And then—Hesh was just there. No questions, no prying. Just a firm, steady hand on his shoulder.
A quiet, grounding voice: “Hey. I got you.”
Logan let out a shaky breath, nodding once. He didn’t need to say anything.
Because Hesh already understood.
3. When Hesh Took Responsibility Like It Was His Birthright
Hesh started doing things he never used to—small things, barely noticeable unless you were really paying attention.
He made sure Logan ate but not telling him in a pleading way like a mom.
He double-checked Logan’s gear before missions, subtly making adjustments, tightening straps, checking ammo.
And when Logan got hurt? When blood stained his uniform and pain clouded his vision?
Hesh’s voice was the one calling out orders, pushing through the chaos.
“Stay with me, Lo. You’re gonna be fine.”
And somehow, somehow, Logan believed him.
Hesh had always looked out for him, but after Elias was gone, something changed.
He didn’t just see himself as Logan’s brother—he became something more. A protector. A leader.
Late one night, when Logan couldn’t sleep, he found Hesh outside, sitting against one of the Humvees, staring at the stars.
Logan sat next to him without a word.
After a long silence, Hesh finally muttered, “I don’t know if I’m doing this right.”
Logan looked at him. “What?”
“Taking care of you.” Hesh exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Dad knew what to say. What to do. I just— I don’t know.”
Logan swallowed, something heavy settling in his chest. “You don’t have to be him.”
Hesh let out a small, humorless chuckle. “Feels like I do.”
Logan nudged him. “You’re already doing more than enough.”
Hesh didn’t say anything. But after a moment, he reached over and ruffled Logan’s hair, just like when they were kids.
but logan didn't like it giving him a look "dude what the fuck?" asking him with hesh just chuckling with his dripping voice, Walking back to the room leaving logan outside wondering.
જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Childhood moments
Logan was maybe six, Hesh eight. They were at the park, kicking a ball around when some older kid decided to shove Logan to the ground (obv there is no reason cuz i wanna make logan the main character and everyone wanna mess with him lol)
“Stay down, loser.” the kid said.
Logan, small but stubborn, pushed himself up, dirt on his hands, eyes flicking to Hesh before he could react.
And Hesh? Hesh was already moving.
One second, the kid was smirking. The next? He was on the ground.
Hesh stood over him, fists clenched. "Touch my brother again, and I’ll bury ya in the sandbox."
Logan’s eyes went wide. "DAD SAID WE CAN’T FIGHT."
Hesh glanced at him, still fuming. "Yeah, well, Dad’s not here right now."
Of course, Elias did find out.
That night, they sat on the couch, waiting for their discussion with elias since the parents of the kid complained to him about what happened.
Elias apologized to them and comfort them that will never happen again.
Elias sighed, rubbing his face. “Hesh, you can’t just go around punching people.”
"But he shoved Logan!"
Elias looked at Logan, then back at Hesh. “…Did you win?”
Hesh grinned. "Obviously."
Elias sighed again, shaking his head. “Just—next time, use your words, son.”
"What if words don’t work?" oh my god him and his unstoppable questions.
Elias gave him a look. "Then throw the second punch harder than the first."
Logan always pretended storms didn’t bother him. Even when the thunder shook the house, even when lightning flashed against the walls.
He wanted to be tough, like Hesh.
But one night, when a particularly bad storm rolled in, Logan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying not to flinch at every rumble.
Then—his door creaked open.
Hesh, dragging his blanket behind him, plopped onto the floor next to Logan’s bed without a word.
Logan frowned. “What are you doing?”
Hesh shrugged. “Storm’s loud.”
Logan didn’t call him out on it, just rolled over so he wasn’t facing the window.
A few minutes passed before Hesh nudged him. “You awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Think Dad’s scared of storms?”
Logan snorted. “No.”
“Yeah. Me neither.”
The next time the thunder cracked, Logan didn’t flinch. Because Hesh was already there.
Elias had this idea to take them fishing. “It’ll be fun,” he said. “A good experience,” he promised.
Spoiler: it was a mess.
Hesh, overconfident as ever, insisted he could bait his own hook—then immediately got tangled in the line.
Logan, trying to help, somehow managed to knock their entire tackle box into the water.
Elias, holding onto the last shred of his patience, just rubbed his temples. “I swear to God, you two are worse than a pair of puppies.”
They did eventually catch a fish—but Hesh freaked out when it started flopping in the boat.
"DAD IT'S ALIVE?!"
Logan, not helpful at all: "GRAB IT!"
Hesh: "WITH WHAT HANDS, LOGAN?!"
Elias, laughing so hard he could barely breathe, finally grabbed it himself and tossed it back. "Remind me never to take you two hunting."
They were at a fair when Logan wandered off. One second, Hesh was buying a drink, the next—Logan was just gone.
Panic set in fast. Hesh, barely ten years old, felt something cold and tight squeeze his chest.
Elias was already asking around, staying calm, focused. But Hesh? He ran.
He pushed past crowds, calling Logan’s name, heart hammering in his chest.
And then—
He found him. Sitting on a bench, small hands gripping the edge, looking so lost.
Hesh sprinted up, skidding to a stop. “Logan!”
Logan looked up, relief flooding his face right before Hesh pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.
“Don’t do that again, dumbass.” His voice was shaking. “I thought—” He didn’t finish.
Logan just nodded, burying his face in Hesh’s shoulder. (bro tf you shouldnt have gone😭)
When Elias finally caught up, he let out a breath. “You okay?”
Hesh nodded. “Yeah. I got him.”
One night, it slipped out. Not in a moment of sentimentality, not in some grand confession—just a quiet realization spoken into the dark.
They were sitting side by side after a long, brutal mission. Hesh had a fresh cut on his temple, Logan was nursing a bruised rib, and neither of them had spoken in a while.
But then Logan, exhausted, let the words slip.
“You’re all I got.”
It was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Hesh heard it.
He turned to Logan, brow furrowing, but Logan didn’t look at him. Just kept his eyes on the horizon, like he hadn’t just admitted something that hurt just to say.
Hesh exhaled, rubbing his face before resting a hand on Logan’s shoulder.
“Nah,” he murmured, voice softer than usual. “We got each other.”
And somehow, that made it feel a little less heavy.
It is impossible to a fandom be this broke
literally cod ghosts fandom:
Last scene they are fighting over a digital art.
If merrick had mistaken who is the elias's ghost mask for merrick: oh man for who?...i think it is for hesh cuase he is the oldest!
hand it to hesh
elias in his grave cause he is biased for logan:
Bell: 4/10. Theyre very stiff at first, but they soak up the attention like a sponge so it’s not bad
Park: 0/10. Her idea of cuddling is sitting three feet apart while working.
Woods: 5/10. He’s good at bear hugs, and theyre comforting, but he’s not good at sustained cuddling
Mason: 7/10. He’s so very touch staved after his wife died. Someone PLEASE cuddle this man.
Lazar: 10/10. Incredible. Showstopping. Amazing. He plays with your hair.
Hudson: 1/10. He doesn’t touch anyone but his wife. It’s 10/10 for her and her ONLY.
Adler: -70000/10. He injects you with substances and talks about his ex-wife the whole time
Perseus: 4/10. Decent except he won’t stop yapping about how superior he is to the Americans
Arash: 0/10. Fucking shoots you.
ೃ Random cod ghosts hc༄༊·˚
Warning: emotional numbness, implied depression, Angst. Character: Hesh walker Song rec: Mice On Venus
○ Hesh Walker no longer looks in the mirror the way he once did.
○ It’s not melodrama. It’s just a quiet, unspoken truth. Since the day his father’s heart gave out and Logan vanished like dust on the wind, something hollowed out inside him. Not shattered — not broken in any obvious way — just emptied. A soft erasure, like someone had scraped out all the color from within him with the edge of a dull blade.
○ He doesn’t know what he's supposed to feel. Anger? Maybe. Sadness? Probably. Mourning? Grief? Words like those seem too clean, too neat. Emotions are supposed to arrive with names, faces, pulses — but what he feels doesn’t. It just sits there, shapeless and heavy, like fog that never lifts.
○ So he doesn’t say much. He doesn’t cry. Doesn’t rage. He does what he knows how to do: he keeps quiet and keeps working. The way a lieutenant should. The way he always has.
○ But the team notice.
○ They see the dark, sharp lines etched under his eyes — not just from sleepless nights, but from something deeper, something lodged in the bones. They see the tension in his jaw, the way he stands a little too still, as if movement might shake something loose inside him that he’s not ready to face.
○ Yet he remains what he’s always been: a born leader. Natural. Unyielding. Even when hollow, Hesh Walker is still the man others follow without question — the kind of man who doesn’t need to shout to be heard.
"my comfort character" stfu cause this chicken is cold
ramirez, foley and dunn dont get a lot of love, some of the best moments in the game were "RAMIREZ DO EVERYTHING" and dunn crashing out during second sun so foley tells him to shut up. they are so trio-core together and i love them for it. they're even more slept on than the metal team and that's really saying something. they're alive, they've got each other, they're working on their mental health together after ww3 and they're doing alright. it's canon in my heart.
Discord server for cod ghosts fans in pinned post!also check rules before requesting!
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