Just a casual writer

van She/her 25+ Eng/Ita Currently learning German

[maskenjager]

"Hold onto me. It's going to swallow us, it's going to feel like it's ripping us apart, and then we come out on the other side." He met Gustave's eyes. "Trust that we're going to come out on the other side. You understand?"

> Pacific Rim AU Masterpost <

[icedlava1]

It's not okay, please I just want you to stay

Because without you here what is there for me to do?

So if I cried, would you always be right here by my side?

[dustofdusk]

nostalgia

[taverri-dekarios]

More of his smile

Plus Maelle and Verso smiling

[snakesneaksnack]

Comparison of the two entering combat stances.

[snakesneaksnack]

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕.

Dark!Verso (painter) and Dark!Gustave (writer) au

[youngie-everywhere]

Verso's cake appreciation post

[fawningbruises]

at your feet, where the light begins and ends

[vvlieen]

"Verso laughed, low and wrecked and happy, and turned his face into the man’s shoulder..." — "Sotto Voce" by @mscoffeebear on AO3

i love, love, love this fanfic!! the emotions, the characters are written just perfectly and i think every verstaveling should read it!! and thus, i just had to make a fanart for it 😌✨ enjoy the boys being soft in the company of a grand piano that definitely saw too much

and here's the link to the amazing "Sotto Voce"!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86011991/chapters/227404551

[amikoroyaiart]

Pride and Prejudice but it's Verstave

[cathianemelian]

Chapter 15: Trust

Verso comes to the rescue and is in for far more than he expected.

(Previous part) / (Next part) / (Master list)

[strange-mage]

Lumière Special Forces 🌹🖤

[carriejack03van]

This drabble is part of my AU featuring real!Gustave being lost in Verso's canvas just like Maelle and meeting the painted version Aline made of him.

Everything is the same, Gustave is Verso's husband and is grieving with the Dessendre and trying to keep them from destroying each other.

“At long last we meet.”

Gustave didn't know what was scarier. The white-haired man that appeared out of nowhere and wounded him so deeply he could feel the life leaving him, but the other man that stepped behind him froze Gustave's blood in his veins.

It was him, Gustave – or, to be more specific, not him. This... Gustave had white hair and moved with a grace Gustave never had in his life. His curls were pulled back and he wore a white suit with golden specs. Strangely, this Gustave didn't posses the prosthetic arm that Gustave had worn the last years of his life, his naked fingers dancing on top of the gun he carelessly had in hand.

“W-What is this...?” Gustave asked, tasting the blood in the back of his mouth.

The white-haired man sighed and sent a glare to not-Gustave. “I told you to stay home.”

“I was never good at following orders, was I?” Not-Gustave giggled, a sound that made Gustave clench his teeth for how annoying it sounded.

Maelle made a confused sound behind him, she was trapped in the shell of chroma that surrounded her. Her eyes went from him to not-Gustave, not understanding what was happening, but she was more worried on the wound on Gustave's side to share her thoughts.

The white-haired man sighed again. “You're only complicating things.”

“For you, maybe. Don't worry, you can keep your carnage going.” Not-Gustave said, flapping his gun around his finger, eyes darting around. “I'm not here for him anyway. That's your job. I was following a trail.”

“A trail?” The white-haired man furrowed his eyebrows. “You don't mean-”

“Yes. Finally, after years he has come back.” Not-Gustave raised his gun and pointed it towards Maelle. “Let's see if I was right.”

“No!” Gustave moved before the shot came. He put himself in front of Maelle protective, parrying it with the blade of his sword.

But he was simply too slow. The blade brushed against the shot of chroma and Gustave saw the moment it landed on his chest. His body was pushed back, blood sprouting from his mouth as his ears rang in pain.

“Gustave!”

Maelle's voice rang on the cliff, her despair dripping from her. Gustave's mind was floating, the pain was unbearable. He tried to speak, to think. Nothing came out.

“It's over already? What a pity...” Not-Gustave said in the distance, taking one step towards him and Maelle.

A shadow passed over them, the sound of a blade hitting a cane made his vision swim. There was a man standing in front of him, pushing back both the white-haired man and not-Gustave.

Not-Gustave smiled, a joyous expression that would have been laughable in any other situation. “My dear, I knew you would come!”

The stranger barely spared him a glance. He looked back at Maelle and him, a pained expression on his face.

Gustave's body shook. Those eyes. Those clear, blue eyes were so familiar it hurt. Gustave moved his lips, tried to speak, he failed.

A memory sparked, deep inside of him. Of laugher, love and an infinite amount of pain.

As the life left him, Gustave remembered and just when the golden petals came to take him away he spoke a word he had forgotten but was so deeply engraved into him.

“Verso.”

---

When he woke, he was laying on the atelier. He cranked his neck, so stiff after staying in the same position for too long and lifted his head.

Renoir and Aline were there, their minds pushed into the canvas, their fighting reaching an even deeper stage.

Gustave lifted himself, but it was rather difficult without one of his arms. Yes, the arm he had lost into the fire that had taken his husband and had scarred Alicia so deeply, the same one that was now making the Dessendre family crumble under the same grief that sunk in his bones.

Gustave looked around, searching for Alicia but he found neither her or Verso's canvas. He blinked unsure and tried to call out for Clea, but she didn't answer either. Gustave sighed figuring she had gone fighting her war despite his warnings and wondered if she was okay.

Gustave rubbed his head, feeling his throat dry and parched, his stomach empty. He had been in the canvas too long. Thirty-two years, the longest he had stayed ever. He had wanted to go, to find a solution between Aline and Renoir, but Aline's chroma had been too aggressive and Gustave had never been a good Painter. He had allowed it to swallow him, until he was turned in one of her creations.

At least he had managed to build the Lumina converter, that would help Alicia – or Maelle, as he was now fond of calling her. He hoped that would be enough.

Still...

Gustave looked at Aline, at the way her face was dripping with paint, her mind lost to her son's canvas.

“You've painted a rather unflattering portrait of me, mother-in-law.”

[draftscollide]

like father like daughter

[kesyrotta]

Mini Expedition 33 :)

[kesyrotta]

How can you be this selfish? Aline!

A sketch commission for Anon!

[carriejack03van]

Oooooh! Writing game! 👀

Can I ask for a snippet of Renoir/Gustave? Maybe something with Painted Renoir discovering Gustave actually somehow survived Stone Wave Cliffs?

(admiration? relief? absolute fear that gustave is going to come and overcharge him again in retaliation? your choice!)

I'm replaying expedition and I'm at the end of act 2 and I saw this request and couldn't help myself!

Have some Restave with Renoir admiring Gustave and Gustave not having it lol btw this piece is not edited, I've written it all in one go :)

Renoir was supposed to be the dutiful husband. The strength behind this broken family, an unmoving pillar.

And yet, for the first time in his long life, he was wavering.

Renoir had no idea how Gustave had survived the piercing wound he had received on Stone Wave Cliffs, Renoir was sure he had made his heart stop then. But here this man was, staring at the Monolith with Verso after they had defeated the Axons, waiting to destroy the life the Paintress, their maker, had built for them.

Verso turned towards Alicia, his voice barely a whisper as he took off her mask. He had always been gentle with her, even before the Fracture, a resemblance of the man he wore the face of, the one that had started this cycle of grief.

Renoir would have liked to say he was watching them, his fragile family reaching out with an olive branch after all these years. Yet his eyes were firmly on the man that had stepped back to give them some privacy, to the one whose moonlight was shining to one side of his face, making him look ethereal.

For one, traitorous moment, Renoir felt a spark of something different from pain spark in his chest.

The knot in his throat turned tighter and he clasped his hand around his cane before he stepped forward, the sound resounding in the silent night.

“You embrace her, yet you're condemning her to die.” The words that would have smoother any other day, came out with difficulty, like his voice wasn't working right.

Verso pulled back from Alicia, eyes dancing in betrayal. “You've brought him here?”

But Renoir was hardly giving attention to his son – again, he was not looking where he was supposed to – but instead he watched Gustave carefully with the corner of his eye. Gustave had tensed, his jaw tightening. His hand had flown in the air, chroma gathering on the tips of his fingers ready to summon his weapon. His brown eyes flickered between him and Verso, a million of questions in them. There was fear too, and Renoir wondered how much that was because of him.

“I'm not here to fight.” Renoir said, taking another step towards Alicia and Verso. Gustave's eyebrows furrowed like he was trying to find the truth of this sentence, but seeing that neither Verso or Renoir himself had summoned any weapon, he let his arm fall on his side.

Gustave moved, placing himself beside Verso almost protectively. The sight was almost laughable, but Renoir had felt on his skin how powerful this man was and if he hadn't been immortal, their fight on the cliffs would have turned out much more different.

“I'm surprised you're alive.” Renoir said, finally acknowledging Gustave's presence.

Gustave's jaw tightened and he gave him a smile that was full teeth. “My skin is made of steel.”

“So it seems.” Renoir muttered, stopping moving once he was at Alicia's side. Gustave did the same to Verso, they were faraway from each other, yet for some reason Renoir felt closer to this man who had faced death because of his hand.

Verso shifted uncomfortably, if he had noticed the strange look Renoir was giving Gustave he didn't mention it, but he sent a warning glance to his father. Renoir wanted to laugh, Verso looked more like an angry kitten than an actual threat, but he wasn't going to tell him that to his face, he knew better than anyone how volatile his son's personality was. The scars that ran across their faces was proof enough of that.

“Gustave, can I-” Verso licked his lips nervously, his eyes shifting from Gustave and Renoir like they might attack each other at any time. “Can I be alone for a moment with them? We need to... talk about family stuff.”

Gustave looked like he might protest, but he shout his mouth pretty quickly. He sighed and patted Verso's shoulder. Somehow, the casual way he did that annoyed Renoir more than he would have liked to admit.

“Alright... but be careful.” Gustave sent a glare to Renoir's way. “You never know when you'll be stabbed in the back.”

Renoir sighed. “I deserved that.”

“Be grateful I don't do the same to you now.” Gustave said and retreated, but made sure to never show Renoir his back.

Renoir smiled, watching as Gustave carefully took a few steps back. This man was much more entertaining than he seemed. He was glad he wasn't dead. Though, if Renoir didn't stop his foolish son, he was going to be really soon.

Holding back another sigh, Renoir turned towards Verso, ready to speak his thoughts about this quest of his. Yet, as he spoke, he was acutely aware of the brown eyes that were watching him from afar and he couldn't help but smile.