#grey answers.

[greysprunki]

”guess who found their girlfriend in Target”

[hinamie]

realizing how much i like drawing him a million years too late :<

[yakichoufd]

I just gotta say, I love the amount of pet names Scott uses for Nathan in your comics it's so wholesome 😊💕💕

I guess that's my one headcanon for them! Scott only uses pet names for his baby bean!

[blueskittlesart]

i take it back this shit is easy

[greykolla-art]

Your Alastor looks like he's struggling to stay sane and I love it

Thank you! 😁

He’s so fun and normal!

[timbit-robin-art]

Can you doodle Jean and Scott, please? 🙏

Their relationship makes me very sad, but I think in a good way (when it’s written well). It’s hard to describe. So I offer Jean helping Scott through a migraine instead of yapping.

[beartitled]

I saw you draw the burned grey before but could you draw the drowned grey?

She angy

[originalartblog]

pamper tiny chuuya tooo pleaseeeee (also can i see tiny verlaine and rimbaud) 🙏

I tinified them :)

[canisalbus]

What kind of clothes would Vasco wear after Machete's death? He tends to wear bright and warm colors, and I was wondering if he would start wearing dark and cool colors to reflect his inner state

I also had thought that he might start to veer towards more somber shades. In reality, late 16th century fashion was dominated by dark colors, if you look at portraits from late renaissance/early baroque eras you quickly notice that pitch black was the most fashionable color (compare that to early and high renaissance fashion from 1400 to 1550 which was visibly more vibrant and colorful). I might be bending the timeline a little bit by having him dress in vivid blues with gold accents, but it's his signature style and I think it mirrors his luminous, free-spirited and approachable personality well. After Machete's death he might've experienced a period where jewel tones had lost their luster to him.

[librababe99]

i would like to request Scott Summers x reader jean broke up with Scott so she could be with Logan, but Logan and the reader were dating so they broke up. Both Scott and the reader have been single for a couple of weeks and comfort each other. Then one day on a mission Scott and reader stranded on a romantic winter cabin for a couple of weeks all alone only with each other, wating to be rescued and they grow closer and smut happens, then they come back to the mansion as a couple

Hey anon! Now this is some drama I am totally down to write😈 I hope you end up liking this!

Frozen Hearts, Kindled Flames

Scott Summers x Gender Neutral Reader

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Scott Summers, Gender Neutral Reader, Cheating!Logan, Cheating!Jean, angst, hurt with comfort, implied smut, happy ending 

Summary: After their hearts are shattered by the betrayal of their respective partners—Jean and Logan—both Scott  and the reader find themselves navigating the pain of heartbreak. 

WC: 1.6K

The mansion’s halls seemed quieter since the breakups. You and Scott had both been nursing bruised hearts, though neither of you admitted how deeply you were affected. It was easier to bury the pain in missions, training, and silence, but it clung to you like a second skin, thick with the weight of betrayal. Scott felt the same—you could tell by the way his shoulders sagged during team briefings, how his once-commanding voice lacked its usual confidence. He didn’t have to say it. He just looked… hollow.

You’d known something was wrong when Jean started pulling away from him. Scott had confided in you during late-night training sessions in the Danger Room, his fists pounding into holographic enemies as he vented. He didn’t cry, but the strain in his voice, the subtle tremor, told you all you needed to know.

“I think Logan’s the reason,” Scott had murmured one night, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His usually confident voice was fragile, uncertain.

Your stomach had dropped at his words. The same Logan you had been dating for months.

At first, you brushed it off. Surely, Scott was just overthinking it. You and Logan had been solid—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But as the days passed, you began to notice the signs. Logan’s late-night absences became more frequent, his gruff demeanor growing more distant. His excuses were vague, and he avoided your gaze more often than not.

Then, one evening, you stumbled upon the truth.

You hadn’t meant to see it. You were simply walking down the hall, heading toward the kitchen for a late-night drink. But there they were—Jean and Logan, wrapped up in each other, locked in a kiss that sent a sharp pain straight through your chest. The world blurred for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as your heart shattered.

You didn’t confront them. Didn’t scream or shout. Instead, you turned and walked away, your feet moving mechanically as you fought back the tears. By the time you reached your room, the sobs you had held back erupted, your body shaking with the force of them.

That night, there was a soft knock at your door. You opened it to find Scott standing there, his face mirroring your own grief. Without a word, you stepped aside, and he entered. You didn’t talk about what you’d both seen, what you knew had been happening behind your backs. Instead, you sat together in silence, finding solace in each other’s presence, the unspoken bond between you strengthening.

Two weeks later

The pain still lingered, though dulled by time. You and Scott barely spoke about the breakups, as if voicing the hurt would make it too real, too permanent. You had both thrown yourselves into your work, focusing on missions and training, pretending to move on. But the wounds were still there, just beneath the surface.

When Professor Xavier assigned you and Scott to track down a rogue mutant in the Canadian wilderness, you welcomed the distraction. A mission meant focus, clarity. You could lose yourself in the task and forget the tangled mess of your personal life for a while.

The journey started off fine, a straightforward tracking mission with little indication that things would go wrong. But the snowstorm hit suddenly, turning the simple mission into something far more perilous. The extraction was delayed, leaving you stranded miles away from civilization, the cold biting into your skin as you and Scott trudged through the freezing wilderness, your breath visible in the frigid air.

The rogue mutant was the least of your concerns now. The storm raged on, the wind howling like a living thing, driving snow against you in thick sheets. After hours of searching, you stumbled across an isolated cabin nestled deep in the woods, its roof half-buried under snow. It was a stroke of luck, but it didn’t feel that way as you huddled inside, your bodies shivering from the cold.

The cabin was small, barely enough space for the two of you, but it was warm—almost too warm. Scott sat across from you by the fire, his gaze distant as the flames flickered against his ruby quartz glasses. His jaw was clenched, the tension in his body unmistakable. You could tell he was lost in thought, his mind likely drifting to Jean, just as yours had wandered to Logan more times than you’d like to admit.

The silence stretched on, oppressive and heavy. You couldn’t take it anymore, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging between you both.

“Scott,” you said softly, your voice breaking through the stillness. His head turned toward you, a quiet hum acknowledging your words. You hesitated before speaking again. “Do you ever wonder if… if they were always like that, behind our backs?”

Scott’s jaw tightened at your words, his hands flexing at his sides. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. It makes sense now. Jean pulling away… Logan disappearing more often.”

The bitterness in his voice mirrored your own. You nodded, biting your lower lip as the pain welled up inside you again, fresh and sharp despite the time that had passed.

“It hurts,” you whispered. “Even now.”

Scott’s expression softened, the tension easing slightly as he looked at you. “I know. But they made their choice. They’re the ones missing out.”

“Yeah,” you echoed, though the words felt hollow. You still felt raw, like a wound that hadn’t quite healed.

A long silence followed, the crackling of the fire filling the empty space between you. The tension wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was palpable. It was as if you were both tiptoeing around something fragile, something neither of you wanted to admit was there.

“I guess we’ve both been through enough heartbreak for a while,” you said, trying to lighten the mood but only succeeding in making it heavier. A sad smile tugged at Scott’s lips.

“Maybe we have,” he agreed quietly, though his eyes told you there was something more he wanted to say. But the words never came.

------------------------------------------

Days passed, the storm outside showing no signs of letting up. The snow piled higher against the windows, trapping you both in a world of cold isolation. Yet, inside, things between you and Scott began to shift in ways neither of you had anticipated.

One night, after yet another failed attempt at contacting the X-Men for extraction, Scott had pulled you close by the fireplace. The fire crackled behind you, but his arms were what kept you warm, solid and strong as he tried to comfort you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his body felt against yours, the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. It made you feel safe. It made you feel… something more.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his as something shifted between you. His brow furrowed, as if he was struggling with his own thoughts. You could feel the tension, the unspoken feelings bubbling just beneath the surface.

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” Scott confessed, his voice low and hoarse. “But being here with you… it’s the only thing keeping me together.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice, the way he looked at you with something more than friendship in his eyes—it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Scott…” you whispered, unsure of what to say.

“I know we’ve both been hurt,” he continued, his hand gently cupping your cheek, the warmth of his touch spreading through you. “And the last thing I want is to make things complicated. But…” His thumb brushed against your skin, tender and hesitant. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your pulse quickened, and you swallowed hard. His admission mirrored the feelings you had been trying to suppress, the thoughts you had pushed aside in the name of friendship and loyalty. But now, here, alone with him, it was impossible to deny.

“I feel the same way,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. His lips hovered near yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and soft against your skin. There was a brief second where everything hung in the balance, a fragile moment that could change everything.

Then he closed the distance.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like you were both afraid to break the spell. But the hesitation didn’t last. The kiss deepened, turning urgent and passionate as your hands tangled in his hair and his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer. Weeks of suppressed feelings, of mutual heartbreak, melted away in that moment, replaced by something far more intense.

Before you knew it, clothes were discarded, your skin tingling from the heat of the fire and the warmth of Scott’s touch. His hands explored your body, gentle but insistent, as if he needed to memorize every inch of you. Your bodies moved together, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the cabin walls. Every kiss, every touch was filled with unspoken emotions, a desperate need for comfort, for connection.

The night was filled with soft moans and whispered confessions, the sound of your hearts beating in sync as you found solace in each other. The storm outside no longer mattered. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel broken. You felt whole.

------------------------------------------------------

When the X-Men finally came to retrieve you, the storm had passed—both outside and within your hearts. You and Scott returned to the mansion as a couple, no longer haunted by the ghosts of Jean and Logan.

There were whispers, of course—curious glances from the others as you walked through the halls hand-in-hand. But none of it mattered. You had found something deeper than comfort in Scott.

[greysprunki]

"HI... GREY...uhm.. If I can even talk to you.. Wtf did I just find? "-🍀

This just randomly popped into my head as a idea/OOC😔😔😔

”my days more worse, I got hit by a fucking car today and I’m in the hospital n I didn’t tell any1.”

[quiddling]

AEMOND MENTIONED‼️‼️‼️‼️

they dislike each other very muchly

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Results from the ‘Who is the tallest MDZS Character poll! Thank you all for voting!

[snakebites-and-ink]

Feel free to expand on the weirdly loving handler and living weapon thingy you blessed our eyeballs with 👀👀

F-feel free to share more 👀👀

The thingy in question

With pleasure :D

I hope you wanted a lot more because this got long.

You can have:

Cuddles with undertones of power dynamics

Handler gently guiding/maneuvering a currently very dissociated living weapon (possibly after a hard mission/battle/something else that was difficult for them to go through)

Dogged loyalty and devotion

Weapon too conditioned to fully understand what they’re feeling

Both protective of each other but express it in different ways according to their roles

Denial. Denial that the living weapon is really a person, denial that one or both of them have gotten too attached/emotional about the other, denial about the ways the relationship is unhealthy, whatever else.

Can’t express their love/care the way two people normally would but find other ways to show it to each other.

They get each other in a certain way that no one else does, see sides of each other that aren't shown in many other situations

The drastic contrast between violence on the field and tenderness in private

And it comes in different varieties

Flavor 1: “I take care of my things.”

Very possessive

Heavy on the dehumanization

Handler/owner won’t let the weapon forget that they’re no more than an object in their eyes; every kindness and comfort serves as a reminder of this because each one is the handler taking care of and maintaining a thing that belongs to them.

—But they’re a very valued object. Maybe they’re expensive. Maybe they’re irreplaceable. Maybe the handler is very picky discerning about what kind of living weapon they’ll work with and others don’t fit the bill. Maybe they’ve saved the handler’s life more times than anyone else the handler has worked with on the field. Regardless of the reason, the handler won’t even entertain the idea of tossing the weapon aside like any other object.

A form of ownership that looks a lot like love. It’s hard to tell where the lines are drawn between sole ownership and monogamy, between maintenance and tenderness, between carefulness and caringness.

Handler definitely will not share. This weapon is theirs and theirs alone. You are not taking it on a mission without them.

Flavor 2: Basically BDSM but more questionable in the “safe, sane, and consensual” department.

Heavy on the affection & fondness. Probably in both directions.

Handler treats the weapon as more than an object, but never as a peer. They’re beloved but ultimately expected to obey.

One or both of them delight in their unequal roles.

Likely some kind of tension and want between the handler and the weapon. Also probably in both directions.

Some dubcon intimacy going on. I’ll let you decide how dubious and how intimate. Suffice it to say, the weapon is conditioned to do what their handler tells them, and that conditioning doesn’t just disappear when they leave the battlefield.

Maybe there is some consent involved, at least at some stage. Maybe they volunteered to become a living weapon out of their own desires.

Flavor 3: Stuck in this situation and doing what they can to be nice

Handler knows this is a weapon but it looks so human

Surely the conditioning can’t completely eliminate their emotions. They must be able to feel the difference between kindness and callousness even if they don’t show it. It would be cruel not to give them gentleness and comfort when they’re past the point of being able to seek it out for themself.

Finding excuses for the “unnecessarily” nice treatment. It’s to keep them operating in peak condition. It’s to reinforce their loyalty to their handler and contrast with the violence of the enemy. It’s because it would be more unnecessary work for the handler to break the habits they formed interacting with actual people. It’s because the handler has fallen for those doe eyes.

Would probably decondition them if they were in any place to do so. But they have to answer to a higher power, whether that be a commanding officer or a greater moral good, etc. so instead they focus on making the aspects that they can control of the situation they are in more merciful and comfortable even as they continue to use them as a weapon.

Flavor 4: Love each other but both believe the dehumanization.

Conditioned like you wouldn’t believe

Maybe the handler has fallen for propaganda. Maybe they took the weapon at their very conditioned word. Maybe they’ve gone through some kind of conditioning themself. Regardless, they see the living weapon as just that: a living weapon. Definitely not a person, but not some lifeless, inanimate thing either.

There’s a deep, non-sexual intimacy to the relationship between a weapon and its wielder. To depend on another to save your life time and again, to destroy foes you could never overcome with your own bare hands. To trust someone so deeply you respond to their orders faster than you can assess a threat or target yourself, so completely you don’t even think to question them. To participate together in the intense acts of killing and fighting for your life.

That forms a bond no one else can truly understand. No relationship in polite society compares with one founded on mortal peril and unquestioning faith.

In the end one is a person and one is a weapon, but they’ve both developed a love for the other. Their relationship is built on the difference in their roles and functionally inextricable from that difference, yet is defined by more than roles alone. If you asked them what they were to each other they would say “It’s my weapon” and “They’re my wielder” with absolute surety, but they would say it with love in their eyes and fondness in their voices.

Flavor 5: Handler doesn’t realize how deeply gentle their treatment affects the weapon

Maybe the handler considers it basic human decency. Maybe they consider it more efficient to keep their weapon in top condition. Maybe they’re just a naturally gentle person. Regardless, they treat the weapon better than any handler or trainer before them but (at least initially) don’t think much of it.

No one else has shown the weapon any sort of kindness since before they were a weapon.

Taken by surprise when the weapon breaks down crying in a tender moment

Handler is kind because it just makes sense. Cruelty doesn’t serve any purpose. It doesn’t have especial meaning to them.

In contrast, the kindness means everything to the living weapon. They become deeply devoted to the handler over it.

Maybe the handler finds out how much it means to the weapon. Do they try to tell them it’s no big deal? Do they make it more of a point to always show that kindness now that they know how important it is? Do they worry this means the weapon needs more conditioning?

I’ve had this on the mind a lot can you tell

[greykolla-art]

have you seen this art? it reminds me so much of your radiorose drawings!!

Oh HECK YEAH!🤩

[timbit-robin-art]

i loooove your band au it's so cute!! do they have a band name? why did the O5 have a falling out and what did jean, bobby, and warren play? i'm imagining they get their first gig at harry's hideaway because he graciously allows them to set up in the corner and play as long as they don't bother anyone lol. rogue and gambit both go (rogue drives them and helps them set up, gambit goes to cheer on storm) and that's how they meet

I’m glad people enjoy my silly band idea. I unfortunately have no idea what they would call themselves, but I’m sure some ridiculous ideas were proposed from each member. I’d love to hear ideas.

Ah, the O5… I think they split up because of a combination of reasons. 1.) Worthington Senior urging Warren to return home as Worthington Industries’ heir. 2.) Jean going to a prep school so she can graduate early be the professor’s intern in mutant politics. 3.) Hank’s plans to intern at Stark Industries, which he ultimately doesn’t go through with after he transforms. Of course, there would be petty drama on the side that would further strain things, but those three would probably be the main reasons.

I think Hank looking into Stark Industries would be a big contributor because Bobby would feel betrayed. They promised to stay together, and after Bobby learned about Warren and Jean’s situations, he at least thought that he would have Hank. So, to catch Hank researching about a full time internship would really hurt.

I also think that Warren would initially do everything in his power not to return home until he learns about Jean’s plans. He thinks she’s only doing this because it’s what the professor wants, but then he learns Jean is actually really looking forward to this. I also think he’s bitter about Scott’s encouragement of Jean’s plans, because it’s splitting their group apart. And then when Bobby and Hank finally have their confrontation, he feels like trying to ignore his fate is childish and he should just give in to his father’s plans.

They all used to live at the institute together, but then Warren returned home and Jean is abroad at her prep school. It’s very tense between Scott, Hank, and Bobby, but Scott and Hank eventually making up again probably makes Bobby get over his hurt. He didn’t really take the band as seriously as the others; he just wanted to hang out with his friends. Bobby would later show up to the band’s gigs as support, and who knows… maybe Warren and Jean would, as well.

Scott played the drums, Jean was the pianist, Hank was guitar, Warren was vocals (and maybe another guitar player), and Bobby was bass.

Back to the current band set up, Gambit 100% comes to their performances, which eventually leads him to meet Rogue;

Gambit is already the band’s uncle, so it makes sense that he hits it off with the band’s new aunt. Mr. Logan found Gambit suspicious at first (and to be fair, Mr. Logan is at least 80% sure he saw Gambit pickpocket someone from across the room), but when he sees how much Gambit cares for Storm, he begrudgingly lets go of his suspicions. He still keeps a watchful eye over Gambit and Rogue’s interactions, though. Rogue’s still his child.

Bahhh, so many fun ideas with this. I think it would be really cute if other X-Men are thrown into the mix. They may not be a part of the band, but they still contribute to the chaos of the private school (I think it would be funny if Piotr was an art club member who does art for the band, and Sean was one of their sound crew guys. Any ideas for other X-Men?).