capt-zjaybird

[capt-zjaybird]

like I got interested in the gambit comics and have been reading them lately.

Gambit v2 #4 (1997) comic cover looks so funny to me cuz it reminds me of the choking drawing ref

[capt-zjaybird]

a friend told me to make this so i delivered

[capt-zjaybird]

o ya I should probably not gatekeep thjs

crappy res rogue x gambit moodboard I made on a whim <33 like a month or two ago I think

[capt-zjaybird]

Logan "183cm" Walker, you lying naughty boy.

No but look. Look. Throughout the whole game, Logan's eyesight is always sitting so low when he's standing right next to others. It's visible right after the actual first mission playing Logan, Hesh and Elias look taller than him the whole time!

You see it, right?

Anyway, here's some face practice with the Walker bros.

[capt-zjaybird]

submission for day 1 of @roguegambitweek ! except it's a reference to movie La La Land! I hate that movie/hj

ver.2 bc I'm quote unquote "a professional"

[capt-zjaybird]

ya I like roleplaying online, cosplaying my favorite characters, but there are moments I'd love to share from roleplays since I'm one of the funniest people I know /sarc

I will consider including my previous X-Men themed DND session I've had with my friends in these posts

[capt-zjaybird]

My friends won’t stop calling him remy the rat and it’s driving me mad

[capt-zjaybird]

was in a whiteboardfox thing, drew gambit using my mouse. my hand fucking hurts

[capt-zjaybird]

[capt-zjaybird]

I love them your honor YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM

[capt-zjaybird]

"Semper Fi"

✦Type: Oneshot ✦Genre/Tone: pure tooth–crushing fluff ✦Characters: Jemíma Ámbar del Mar Hernández and slight mention of Keegan P. Russ

✦Summary: While on deployment, Keegan Russ writes a rare, heartfelt letter to Jemíma Hernández, confessing his love and longing for her. Touched and overwhelmed, Jemíma reads it in silence, feeling the weight of every word. She writes back with quiet emotion, telling him to come home—and that she’s always been his.

✦Taglist!: @ll7esxs @stargazing-sapphire2 @keeganrussmybeloved @wildmayhemz @deeptrashwitch @capt-zjay @the-best-walker @maumausie @gunnrblze @me-is-confused @fleshqounds @lemonqii @charlie2092 @taciturntraveller @burnatnight @shadowsh00ter @milkteaarttime @aoioozora

"No matter where I go, I'm always gonna want you back. Want you back"

[Letter from Keegan to Jemíma, folded neatly and sealed with care]

Location classified Date unknown Jem, I’ve never been good at saying what’s in my head. I think you figured that out the day we met. You always saw through the silence, the half-sentences. That was never easy for me—until you. It’s quiet here. Too quiet. You’d hate it—no high ground, no clean sightlines. I keep expecting to hear your voice in my comms, calling out movement like you always did. Every time I blink, I see you perched over my shoulder, steady hands on the scope, calm even when everything else is going to hell. You always had that calm. I miss it more than I know how to say. I guess what I’m trying to say is—I miss you. All of you. The way your eyes narrow when you're focused, that faint smile you try to hide when you’ve just nailed a shot before I even spotted the damn target. The way your fingers brush mine like you're trying not to let go, even when we're both pretending this is just “temporary.” But it's not. Not for me. I don’t know how long this deployment will last. I don't know what’s waiting tomorrow. But I know this—I love you. I love you in that brutal, aching way that doesn’t go quiet when the world does. I love you like I’m already home, if home means your hands, your eyes, your voice at my back. Keep your head up. Keep fighting. I’ll come back. I always do. Always faithful.Always in love with you, my love, my whole world, my life. – Keegan

[Jemíma’s POV – After reading Keegan’s letter]

I read it three times before I let myself breathe again.

I held the letter like it would vanish if I blinked too long.

I don’t cry.

I haven’t in years. Not when I lost Marines under my watch. Not when I held a rifle through nights colder than death and quieter than graves. I’d told myself I was fine. That it was just another deployment. That we’d done this before—months of silence, check-ins through static, and the hope he’d come back in one piece.

But this damn letter—this quiet thing, folded like it’s fragile, like it holds something sacred—makes my chest feel too full. Like I swallowed a breath I can’t let go of.

His handwriting was rough, the kind of pen stroke that looked like it had to fight through calluses and restraint. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t flowery. But it was him—straight to the point, steady, like he was whispering it from behind me, like he always did when things got too loud.

God, Keegan. But he’d never written like this before. He never said "love." Not out loud. Not like this.

He’s never been the kind to say what he’s feeling out loud. He’d rather patch me up in silence, hand me my rifle, nod once like it means everything. But this? This is him putting a loaded confession in my hands like it might go off.

And I feel it. Every word. Like a slow burn behind my ribs.

The tears surprised me. Not loud, not sobbing. Just… quiet. Steady. Like the way he always walked into a room, calm and unshakable. Like the way he held me after missions when neither of us had the words for what we’d seen.

I press the letter to my chest and close my eyes. The room around me fades—the base, the static, the chaos. It all goes quiet. Just like he always made it feel when he was near. I folded the letter again—gently, like it might bruise—and held it to my lips. For a second, I imagined him there. The weight of his hand against mine, the scratch of his stubble on my skin, the silence between us full of everything he couldn’t say… until now.

Always faithful.

He meant that. Not just the Marine oath—we both know the weight of those words—but the kind that lives in stolen glances behind cover, in quiet nights spent cleaning rifles side by side, in not needing to speak to be heard.

Always in love with you, my love, my whole world, my life.

But my throat tightens.

I walk to my cot, sit down slow, and pull out the dog-eared notebook I’ve carried through every deployment. I flip past coordinates and notes, old mission logs, until I find a blank page.

And I write.

You idiot. You had to make it impossible to breathe for a minute there, didn’t you? You think I didn’t already know? You think I don’t feel it in every shot I take, every time I reach for you and you’re not there?

I pause. My pen trembles.

Then I smile—barely.

Come home to me. I don’t care how loud the world gets. Just come back. You already know what you are to me. My sniper partner. My voice of reason. My pain in the ass. My heart. Always waiting. Always yours. —Jemíma

“You’re such a dumbass,” I whispered. “You finally say it—and you’re a thousand miles away.”

But I smiled.

It hurt. But I smiled.

Because now I had something to hold on to. Not just the ghost of his presence, not just the echo of his breath on my neck after a long op—but him. The truth of it. Written down. Real.

And when he comes back—because he will come back—I’m going to say it right to his face: “I’ve always loved you too, Keegan. You idiot. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

[capt-zjaybird]

I WENT OUT WITH MY FRIENDS AND I SAW GAMBIT AT THE MALL

[capt-zjaybird]

[capt-zjaybird]

Im slowly deviating away from ghosts

oh no

[capt-zjaybird]

gambitposting

[capt-zjaybird]

miku miku BEEEEAAAAAMMM

[capt-zjaybird]

Start betting, how many miles can he walk