Hey everyone! My name is Grey (they/them), I’m a lesbian writer on the internet!
This is the tumblr account for my respective archive of our own account under the same name. If you want check it out, here is the link! this tumblr and my ao3 account are the only accounts I have. any other accounts are fake and should be reported to me immediately.
I'm a pretty chill person so I don't have many rules, but I only ask that you be kind to each other if you comment on my posts. Minors are okay to interact with my blog but for the sake of your safety, please refrain from interacting with nsfw themed posts! I'm here to spread love and share my writing, so please don't make me have to crack down on rules.
MASTERLISTS:
arcane (netflix)
VALORANT
ARE MY PROMPTS OPEN? - YES/NO
Thank you everyone for taking the time to read this, and I hope to hear from you guys soon! my asks are open for you to scream in any time :)
~ Grey
(psssst! wanna talk to me more? follow my alt @divinegreyz where I answer all types of anons!)
assuming youre the one who also said the grey i missed you message but hi!! im doing alright, i just started working and finishing up my course at school so a little all over the place but for the most part im pretty good!! i still check here now and then to see what everybody is reading :)
got a pc that can actually run valorant and have gotten back into reading your works after two years (time passes fast) and i just wanna say thank you. i know you don't write for valorant anymore but thank you for sharing your writing and thoughts. still a great comfort.
hope you're going well
wait,,, this message in my inbox coinciding with the most lesbian looking valorant agent being dropped....
Where you the person who wrote this specific caitvi fic where reader goes to the dentist and is drugged up and the girls take reader home but the reader is acting like a needy brat??? i maybe a bit delusional but I SWEAR you or someone who i thought was you wrote something like that.
I remember the caitvi series VIVIDLY 👁👁 I haven't slept it's been 24 hours.. I've gone down a major rabbit hole
im assuming you sent me the same ask last night but i checked my files and the only caitvi ive ever written is unpublished so i cant help you there boss
but that fic sounds fire if you find it send it to me i wanna read it
Are you still thinking of doing a Vanisher Part 2? I think it’s a great idea, but I agree that the original vanisher storyline prob doesn’t seamlessly transition to season 2.
Have you thought about doing an alt timeline? Maybe just give a synopsis of the differences between the original timeline and now, or just have them meet all over again. Idk, you’re the artistic genius here! Whatever form it takes, I’ll love reading it if you do it
hi!! youre so right one of the things i was struggling with was how i borked with the canon so much in vanisher series part 1 that id basically be rewriting season 2 (which. i could do. but not well.)
alt timeline was my first thought. game developer patch notes before the first chapter saying "hey this is what happened here!"
but honestly, season 2 didn't grip me the same way season 1 did. im also going through a rough patch emotionally that has made it. Exceedingly difficult to write, even when i want to. it's really upsetting because i have ideas for vanisher series part 2 my brain just isn't cooperating. im honestly not sure if i ever will write a part 2-- by the time i do i feel like nobody would read it bc everybody is over it lmao.
took a slight left on the prompt i was given, but it just felt more fitting given what i know of ambessa. hope you enjoy!
prompt: Hi! How about an Ambessa x Reader where the reader is her only weakness besides her family? And, maybe, reader gets hurt in the last battle and Ambessa realizes that sometimes, winning a war is not worth all the losses it causes along the way.
words: 1337
warnings: canon typical violence
“Every war comes with a price to pay.”
The words echo in your head as you swing your glaive in a wide arc, slicing through the bodies of the blue-suited Enforcers trying to bull-rush you onto the ground. It comes naturally you, the motion and flow of handling your polearm; six feet of handle and two feet of blade, creating a damning vortex of death around you as you cut through the defenses set up by Piltover. The stench of blood lays thick in your nostrils, metallic and complimentary to the lingering scent of magic littering across the stone battlefield. Behind you, more reinforcements rush into the gray, drawing attention off of you.
You glance up in time to notice the Hextech cannon aimed in your direction; there’s little time to think before you dive to the side, curling yourself behind a fallen stone statue as the payload strikes the spot where you once stood, arcane blue scattering out in an explosion that wipes out half of the infantry under your command.
Despite the ache in your bones and the several gashes bleeding through your armor, you haul yourself over the statue, sprinting across the battlefield.
Ambessa’s plan is sound— they always are, such is the nature of the Warlord. The death of Rictus, her second-in-command, sent echoes through the ranks. Through you, especially. He, more than anyone, was your brother in arms, a man you could trust to guard your back as much as you guarded his. But even with his esteemed spot by her side, he was never a recipient of special treatment. He never received Ambessa’s love and adoration like you did.
You slide across the stone, your heel making contact with the shin of an Enforcer. The snap of bone is felt ricocheting through your boot as you come up onto your feet, driving your steel through their chest. Blood spills onto the ground and you exhale, turning face to your General.
“Thirty percent of my men are dead. The Hextech cannon is proving to be a nuisance,” you remark, a gesture toward the sky where the cannon unloads another shot toward the infantry, bodies going flying. You hardly flinch, more of a grimace passing your face.
“The cost we pay. Ignore the cannon, press the advantage,” Ambessa instructs. Her eyes flicker past your shoulder, visible beneath the golden mask, and you follow her wordless command, shifting your body to the side the same moment she steps forward, arm raised and magic flaring from the runes wrapped tight. A bullet bounces off the momentary shield. You spin on your heel, hurling your glaive at the would-be killer.
They fall to the ground, red soaking blue.
Ambessa kicks up a glaive from the ground, borrowed from another Noxian soldier fallen, and presses it into your hand. “We shall win the day. You most of all. Leave the infantry to deal with the Enforcers. You, with me. We must break through to the door!”
“Yes, General!” You step into pace with her, charging through the fray at her side. She defends your left, you defend her right. Hours upon hours spent training against her as lent a strength fighting with her, knowing intimately how she moves just as well as she knows how you move. There’s a tenacity, an unbreakable wall forged in the bond between the two of you.
But every wall will suffer a siege. Every wall will suffer a break.
You see it before she does. You move before her, your hand finding purchase in her armor and swapping places. The shout that rips through your throat is not one of victory, of force or strength, but of pain, a payload from the Hextech cannon slamming into your back. Your position and the refractions of her runes protect Ambessa; the same cannot be said for you.
You find yourself hurtling through the air, landing against the stone, metal screeching as you slide to a stop, blood smeared in your vision. You can hardly get a lungful of air down without sputtering out due to the searing agony working up your spine from the impact. The feeling in your legs is fuzzy, barely there, and you struggle to push yourself up.
Ambessa arrives, the golden halo of Runeterra’s sun behind her head.
“You fool, why did you—”
“Can’t ignore the cannon, General,” you hiss out, laying your hand on her arm. Red spreads on her skin, melting into the fabric. “Not when it puts you in danger.”
She reaches to your face, her palm gripped on your helmet and pulling it off. It’s thrown aside, her own mask removed too— for the first time in what feels like a long, long time, you see it in her eyes. Fear.
As quick as it came, it’s gone. Ambessa stands, sliding her arms under yours to drag you behind a barricade of Noxian soldiers, shields pressing tight to protect her.
“That is not the order I gave you,” Ambessa grits out. Her head snaps up, the urgency in her voice enough to instill the smallest worry in you. “Medic, now!”
“I will be fine, you need to keep fighting, General, please, victory hasn’t been secured—”
“Victory means nothing if you are not there to see it with me,” says Ambessa, a whispered tone to protect her the vulnerability in her words reserved only for you.
You’ve known the truth for a long while— there is one weakness you bear, and that is the soft spot in your heart that cradles Ambessa Medarda with all the love you have. The same can be said for her, a tightness in her expression as a medic drops to their knees beside you, pulling the straps of your armor in order to properly assess the damage. You raise your good arm to hold her face, wiping away the tears that could very well easily pass for sweat instead. The very motion seems to stoke an anger in her, not to you, but to those who did this to you.
“My lion,” you whisper, a forced smile on your face. “I will not fall. And neither will you. Win. For Noxus. For us.”
Like tempered steel quenched in oil, Ambessa’s face hardens. She leans down, pressing her forehead to yours, breathing in your air as easily as you breath in hers. Never before has she so willingly displayed this much affection with you in front of her soldiers, but if any of them have anything to say about it, they’re wise enough to keep their mouths shut. You and Ambessa apart are terrifying forces of power, but together, you’re nigh unconquerable.
“Steel your heart, my shield,” Ambessa murmurs, and you nod the slightest amount, enough for her to know you heard her. “We will see Noxus anew.”
It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to an I love you.
Ambessa kisses you, her hand cradled on the back of your head. The din of war seems to cease around you, your senses and what left you have of your fading consciousness focused on Ambessa Medarda, of the woman you swore your life, your fealty, your love to. When she pulls away, you see the struggle in her eyes, her desire to ensure your safety conflicting with the pressing need to ensure victory.
You make the choice for her, her mask in your hand outstretched to her.
“The price we pay,” you say, watching as she takes it, a barely there moment of hesitation before she puts it back on her face. She takes her sword in hand and rises, her shadow casting over you.
“If they do not survive,” Ambessa speaks to the medic, who pauses to listen to her orders. “You will not even get a grave.”
The medic does not deign to respond with words, rather a nod and a renewed urgency. Ambessa looks at you once more; you thump your fist weakly on your chest.
She runs headlong back into battle, shouting a war cry for the ages.
sorry for the wait everybody!! been writing other things in the meantime, arcane hasn't been my sole focus. also i have homework and exams. but here's something to appease all of you!! anon, i hope i did this prompt justice!
prompt: I'd like to request a Jinx x Fem! Reader. I like the idea of the reader being a follower of Jinx, as I think the dynamic could be fun. I think it could be cool to explore a follower of Jinx getting to know her and realizing that she's more than just a symbol. She's a multifaceted individual.
words: 1585
warnings: none
It started when she caught you tagging the side of a building. With her face, no less.
With all the shit going down in Zaun in the wake of Silco’s death and every gang leftover fighting for scraps of power, it was only time before Jinx caught up to the fact that while yes, her face is plastered everywhere on wanted posters, there are about a dozen more spray-painted graffiti tags of her over them. Which was the goal of what you were doing when she dropped down from a building and walked to your side.
All she did was look at the statuesque version of her face, washed in shades of blue, and say, “My nose doesn’t look like that.”
And she was right.
Of course, with time, you got better at it. The wanted posters did a mean disservice, honestly. The only thing they got correct were the pink eyes, pink eyes that followed you when you went to your shitty box of an apartment and flopped onto a mattress flattened by years of use. You’d go to sleep, wake up, grab your paint duffel, and head back out again. The nice thing about Zaun is that there’s always an empty spot just waiting to be tagged.
Somehow, Jinx always finds you.
“You know people see you as a leader, right?” You say, shaking a can of neon pink, the ball rattling around inside the canister. You glance over your shoulder to where Jinx sits on some pipes connected to the wall, her braids dangling and the gold bullet casings wrapped around reflecting the faint light that falls through the fissures. With a gesture to your own head of hair, dyed an insane hodge-podge of bright colors, blue included, you continue, “Silco’s gone. Whole world down here has turned upside down. But for the first time in a while, we’ve got hope. Cuz of you. Cuz of what you did to those fuckin’ Pilties.”
“For all the good it did,” Jinx remarks, a dryness to her tone you’ve come to know and love.
“I’m serious. C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t know the reason why I keep painting you? Why a dozen other taggers I know keep painting you? Why the color blue is nearly sold out in every damn shop?” You kneel down, arcing a curve of pink paint along the grey brick wall, moving quick and precise. Overthinking it makes it worse. “I’m not wearing spray-painted clothes in your colors for nothin, Jinx.”
She turns, peering at you. In the shadows, her eyes seem to reflect some more, glowing like a cat’s would. “Because y’all have some weird, deluded sense that I’m a leader, or somethin’.”
“You are. To me. To us.” You point at the other tags in the alleyway, some of them copies of the same mark you’ve seen a dozen times around town. Jinx’s name, sigils of BOOM! and explosives doodled about. You twist and take a seat on the scaffolding, your legs dangling off the side of it. “I didn’t know you when I first started drawing you. I heard what you did, and I thought damn, there’s someone out there willing to actually do something. In a single day, you did more than Silco ever did in years. Sure, we might be going head long into a war, but dying free is better than living under someone else’s boot.”
Jinx hums. She leaps off the pipes, crossing the gap between you and her with ease, landing on the wooden scaffolding. She straightens up, gazing at the half-finished tag you’re working on. With a hum, she turns to you, and puts something in your hand. Before you have the time to look down and figure out what it is, Jinx says, “Nozzle control. Quality on some of your cans are shit, no offense. Slap that thing on it and you won’t have an issue after that.”
“Oh, thanks—”
“Don’t mention it!” Jinx steps off the scaffolding, landing on the ground below with a THUD. “And for the record, I ain’t the kinda person to follow.”
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to convince me!” You call down, grinning from ear to ear. Her brows furrow together, then a small huff, a hint of a smile on her own face. She walks away, off to do… whatever it is that she does when she’s not hanging out with you.
It isn’t for some time that you see her again. You’d say you’re worried, but you pass through the crowds hearing whispers of Jinx sightings. Every day, it seems another head of blue hair appears, the quiet signs of revolution brewing in the heart of Zaun as the enforcers grow more and more strict, searching anyone and everyone for some hint or clue to find the one that destroyed the Council Chamber in Piltover. You’ll never say a word.
You walk into your apartment. Work was… work, boring and mind-numbing as it always is. You wonder if you can handle another day of it, but another day will bring another chance of seeing her out there, so you decide not to fly off the handle just yet. You shrug off the soot-stained work clothes, and where you reach for your paint-splattered jacket, it isn’t there.
Instead, a note.
Never had anyone believe in me quite like you. The Hound’s statue, midnight. Come and get it.
With the pink lettering and the doodles of monkeys and bombs scribbled across the page, it doesn’t need to be said just who left this note. You snatch it off the wall, utterly beaming; Gently, you fold it into fourths, tucking it into your shirt. Thank god for the late shift— less waiting!
Any of the weariness you might’ve felt before is gone as you race through the streets, taking any and every shortcut you know. The night is quiet, what with the enforced curfew put up by the Pilties to discourage wandering, not that they’ve done a good job of it. Zaun is Zaun, and the cogs down here will always keep turning, whether Piltover likes it or not.
When you arrive at the open plaza where the statue erected to Vander, the Hound of the Underground, is, your mouth drops in shock to find the entire plaza covered, every square inch of it, in neon paint. Sigils upon sigils that you have seen time and time again, glowing in the dark. It reaches all the way to the statue, pink highlights in Vander’s hair and blue accents along his metal jacket.
Sitting on the shoulder of the statue, paint can in one hand and your jacket in the other, is Jinx.
“Shoulda known you’d be a little early. Good thing, I work fast,” Jinx remarks. She crooks a finger at you to come closer, and you do, taking care to step over the paint lines on the stone. You’re a little in awe of the work she’s done— how has nobody taken notice? Come to think of it, you heard there was a scuffle a few blocks away. The logistics don’t seem to matter anymore the closer you get to her.
You arrive at the base of the statue. “How’d you even know where I live?”
“Sweets, there are a lot of things I know about you. And a lotta things you know about me. Things that might drive other people away, but not you,” Jinx says, something like an angel as she looks down upon you from the statue. In the flash of a second and the trace of neon light left in the sky, she’s standing in front of you, your back pressed against the statue. The beam of moonlight that breaks through shines on her, her shimmer-pink eyes locked onto your frame. “You keep sticking to the inside my brain, can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Could say the same for you,” you reply, a little breathless. “Why’d you do all this? Get my jacket and bring me here?”
“Cuz you showed me somethin’ important. That people, for whatever crazy reason they got in their head, believe in me,” Jinx says. She holds out your jacket to you, and you take it, slipping your arms through the sleeves and fixing the collar so it stands upright. Her eyes go from bottom to top, taking her sweet time. “I wanna show em what I can do. Give those people with my blue in their hair a reason to keep going. To keep fighting.”
“You have me. All the way, Jinx,” you say, putting a hand over the front of your jacket, where a pink heart has been painted. “So what do you wanna do? Other than all this?”
“Right now?” Jinx cocks a grin. “I wanna kiss you.”
What? You blink, wondering if you heard that right, but her taking a step closer to you only confirms that yes, you did hear it right. You swallow the nerves, finding your cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling. “And then what?”
“And then, we show Zaun all the fun we have to offer, and we tell Piltover to shove their Hextech where the sun don’t shine,” Jinx finishes, her hands grabbing the lapels of your jacket and pulling you in. Your lips touch hers, something you never thought would happen, not in your wildest dreams.
But here you are, arms wrapped around Jinx as she kisses you in the streets of Zaun, the cry of revolution soon to come.
~~~~~
A/N: thank you for reading!! comments are always appreciated <3
hi folks! it's good to be back and stretching my writing legs again. starting off with a caitlyn prompt! this could be read as a stand-alone or as a continuation of another caitlyn fic, broken pillars.
prompt: heyya! i'm absolutely in love with caitlyn AND your writing, so i was hoping we could combine the two :DD maybe something along the lines of cait x reader, a continuation of "broken pillars"? reader was injured in the blast, and Cait helps them/her (whatever you prefer) recover. maybe reader sees how much ambessa is manipulating her, and they end up getting into a fight over what's right?
words: 1162
warnings: mentions of violence, light angst, happy ending
“Caitlyn, this crusade is only going to end in more violence. You can’t possibly not see that!”
The Kiramman library has become something more of a battleground, in recent days. You were finally discharged from the hospital after extensive care to the leg you lost in what has been dubbed one of the worst terrorist incidents of Piltover’s history. And in those days since you’ve been home, you’ve become privy to every single thing that happened, everything that Caitlyn went through in her attempt to find Silco.
Now Silco’s dead, and the whole of Zaun is in disarray. It only took one woman stepping in at the right time for Piltover to begin mobilizing; Ambessa Medarda.
“It will be necessary for the safety of Piltover, our safety that we find Jinx and put her into Stillwater. She cannot be allowed to remain free for what she did to you,” Caitlyn says, standing at all too far a distance from you. She’s unreachable, has felt utterly unreachable ever since the explosion. Between tending to you, you know the gaps of time when she wasn’t at the hospital was spent sitting beside the famed warlord of Noxus.
You’ve seen the change happen before your very eyes. It makes you scared.
Pushing your hands on the wheels of your chair closer, you try again. “Cait, please, just listen to yourself. You’re suggesting arming an entire battalion of Enforcers and leading them into Zaun will fix the problem. You tried the strike team, it didn’t work the way you wanted it to, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Until Jinx is behind bars, we are not safe.” Caitlyn’s stare is steely, but therein lies the exhaustion found in the bags of her eyes. Neither of you have been sleeping all too well; she comes into bed late at night when you’ve tired yourself out trying to stay up, and she rises before you have a chance to kiss her good morning. Caitlyn turns, hands on her hips. “You are not safe. I cannot stand for it.”
“So, what? You slap a gun into every willing hand and shoot every Zaunite that gets in the way?” You sigh, leaning back against the cushion with a sigh. “And you’re fine with that? I know you, you’re smarter than this.” You wheel yourself closer to her side, taking her hand. “I know that this has left you distraught. Your mother in a coma, me in a wheelchair, but we are both still here, Caitlyn. An eye for an eye. You took Silco out, the Undercity is in chaos. People down there are scared. The Caitlyn I know and love wouldn’t be putting together weapons; she would be putting together aid, a plan to unite Zaun peacefully as possible.”
Caitlyn doesn’t look at you. Rather, the fire that burns in the library hearth, the flames reflected and dancing in her eyes. She squeezes your hand, the callouses from shooting for so many years evident on her fingertips. Her throat bobs with a swallow.
“It makes me scared, Cait. To know that Ambessa is saying these things into your ear and it feels like I can’t even get through to you,” you start, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. “I’ve been friends with Mel long enough to get a sense of what her mother is like, I’ve studied enough politics to know what Noxus prioritizes. Strength and power. They see that in Hextech. That is all they want. They don’t care if they have to start a war to get it, because that is what they’re good at.”
Caitlyn blinks, and for the first time in days, you see a tear fall from her eyes. Her chest rises with a heavy breath. “I failed to keep you safe. I had an opportunity to pull the trigger on Jinx. Vi, she— she weakened me. I wanted so badly to believe there was a way to end all of this with everyone alive, and the cost of believing that was nearly losing you and my mother.” A small scoff. “If my mother will ever wake up.”
“Look at me.” You tug on her arm, and only then does she turn to you. You make a gesture for her to sit down on an armchair and she follows, slumping with an exhaustion you both feel in your bones. You take your hands and hold them tightly. “You can’t burden yourself with every ounce of responsibility, Caitlyn. You are one of the strongest people I know, but even you will crack under that pressure. Please, just give yourself some more time, give Mel and I some more time to try and put together a plan. The Council is angry. Ambessa has power enough as it is, but what she sees in you is someone to exploit. Grief is a powerful motivator; all I ask is that you don’t let it motivate you into something you’ll regret.”
If it weren’t for you holding her hands, you might not have noticed the shake in her fingers. You know your girlfriend well enough to understand that the shaking only comes when the stress has built up so much that it reaches her hands; a sharpshooter can’t risk shaking hands when they need to take the shot. With something of a forlorn smile, you bend your head, trying to catch her eyes.
“Love, I promise, you didn’t fail me. Nor your mother. I’m still here, and I still love you so, very deeply with everything I have in my heart. So please, if there is any guilt or grief you carry about me, drop it. Because I am with you, until the end of time,” you say, pouring every ounce of devotion that you possibly can into your words. What you see in turn is the exterior of Caitlyn’s armor cracking, the tears falling, and you cup her face within your hands, bringing her eyes to yours. “I love you, Caitlyn Kiramman.”
Her hands hold your wrists tight; it’ll take time for her to lay down her guilt, and you’re happy to stand beside her in the meantime. You kiss her, soft and tender, the salt from her tears on your lips but you couldn’t care less. You survived death and lost a leg, a grief that will settle, but you count your blessings where you can find them. Your family is still alive, Caitlyn is still alive, and her parents are still alive.
It will have to be enough.
“I love you,” Caitlyn whispers into your mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“Your heart is safe with me, and mine with yours. There is a light at the end of this tunnel; we need only find it, okay?” You stroke her cheekbone with your thumb, wiping away the tears as they come. She nods, resting her forehead against yours.
Only time will tell of what happens to Piltover and Zaun, but you breathe easier, knowing you have your partner at your side.
~~~~~
A/N: thank you for reading! anon, i hope this was what you wanted!
I am so freaking ready for Isha and Vanny to be so cute!!!!!!!!
Ps: I love you works and the vanisher series!!!
thank you for your sweet comment!! i'm at the last hurdle with my classes so once im done with finals and i can not worry about doing well on my tests and papers i can finally devote my brainrot to the lesbian assassin we all know and love
GREYYYY!! MAKE A PART TWO TO THE VANISHER SERIES AND MY LIFE IS YOURS !!!!!
I WANT TO I REALLY DO i just need to uh. fix the plotholes that i left with vanisher series part 1. yall are gonna have to embrace the fact that part 2 is gonna be an AU of part 1. if that makes sense. what am i even saying.
I read your Vanisher series as it came out the first time, I would die for part two. Arcane season two chewed me up and wrecked me.
Jinx baby they did you wrong…..
tagging this with arcane spoilers but holy CRAP that last act. personally i think the whole season couldve benefited from having an extra episode per act but i still think most of it was phenomenal.
