#vermongoose

[stripsoflight]

Happy 1 year anniversary Clair Obscur! Part of Gestral Village's gift exchange ✨️

My prompt was Verso, Monoco, and Gustave, so I decided to put them in Yellow Harvest, one of the chillest areas in the game (in my opinion), because these boys deserve some rest

[einradi]

for the writing game if you're still down!! Verso brings his boyfriend[s] (gustave/monoco/or both, your choice) to meet renoir and/or aline for the first time? [could be inside the canvas or outside, up to you!]

Throwing a bone in for my Vermongoose propoganda. (￣^￣)ゞ

--

"This outfit is ridiculous," Monoco stated, blunt, flat, and tugging on his tie for the third time that night.

"It is not," Verso protested, quick to come and fix the mess. "It looks good on you."

"I look like I work for the mafia."

"He does a little," Gustave snorted softly in amusement. "It's the sleeves, mon loup."

"See? Gustave agrees."

"Then just roll them down like I told you," the nobleman huffed. Verso stepped back to admire his work, brushing off dust only he could see and tucking a strand of white hair behind Monoco's ear.

"What, and contain these?" Monoco held his arms out, forearms flexing. He grinned seeing both of his partners staring for a half second longer than either would admit.

"He's becoming too powerful," Gustave muttered under his breath, entirely unsubtle and easy to hear, making Verso flush brighter and Monoco grin wider. "And I think we're lucky he even wore a waistcoat. I might have to agree that we are a little overdressed for a dinner, though."

"It's not just any dinner, though," Verso protested, gesturing to the empty dining table. "It's dinner with— Maman! Papa!"

Monoco raised a brow as their nervous part slipped away with surprising speed, following him with his eyes as Aline and Renoir Dessendre entered into the dining hall. Two famous painters in the art world with a more liberal view of the world, but still held to some traditions, if their source was to be believed. He could see where Verso had his father's jaw and his mother's eyes, not to mention the insufferable ability to wear just about anything and still look like he'd been Painted by the gods.

He felt a flutter of warmth spread through his chest at his beloved's bright smile, and suddenly he wasn't so sure what he was supposed to do with the affection that had grown so rapidly. Here he'd expected their little escapades to remain carefree and relaxed, no strings attached. Verso and Gustave had seemed more like they would seek a more permanent relationship between them, and Monoco had been content to stay on the sidelines for as long as they'd allow him.

Was it selfish that he wanted more with both of them?

His attempts to tug at his tie again were thwarted by a metal hand. He found himself almost pouting to Gustave's attempt at reassurance.

"Just for one evening," the engineer murmured. "He wants you to make a good impression."

"I never make a good impression," Monoco countered with.

"Only when you open your mouth."

"You happen to like my mouth."

He chuckled at the sharp elbow in his side. The faint flush across Gustave's cheeks was well worth it.

"—anyway, we're glad to be here. You already know Gustave, um... " Verso's voice floated back to them as the Dessendre unit finally approached once more, their fretful partner in the lead. "Technically you know Monoco, too. Just, ah... Just perhaps not as our other partner."

[winter-of-tomorrow]

sfw-version of the artwork I did for the Gestral Village Anniversary Exchange! The "All you can Kiss"-Buffet for Gustave

full version over here on bluesky and here on Ao3

[madebydun]

Making my first prints, yay for me! UWU I'm running an interest check, cause being a tiny, unemployed artist doesn't let me stock up on merch ^^; Since I'm not going to order a large amount besides what is submitted in the form, so if you'd like anything, please, let me know here:

https://forms.gle/EGgsJMNvDVc8BVXW8

Reblogs and spreading the word in general are very, very much appreciated <3

[einradi]

a wee little writing game request from a wee little sam, tee hee, what if you wrote a little more about monoco and gustave meeting verso's parents. what if aline was like "god damn those forearms. verso, nice one" tee hee

Heeheehoohoo!

I all seriousness, I'm glad you liked it! For those that missed it, you can find the first part here.

--

Dinner was served.

Literally, Monoco realized, as servants placed artistically plated food in front of everyone and he had to figure out which of the two forks he was supposed to be using.

"So," Renoir was the first to speak, clearing his throat. "When did you two... ?"

"It just sort of happened," Verso admitted, setting down his utensils. "Monoco has always been... well, important to both of us."

"So much so you named the dog after him."

It was interesting to watch the noble heir turn scarlet so quickly. Monoco put his chin in hand, unable to contain the grin stretching his lips. "Oh?"

"No— that wasn't— " Verso started and stopped, stuttered, then rounded a hissed 'Papa!' at his chuckling father.

"It was a little more gradual than him and I," Gustave cut in with the save. And oh, those hazel eyes were fixing on Monoco now, making his heart flutter a bit in his chest. "We just sort of realized one day we both wanted more with him."

It wouldn't do for Monoco to be the blushing maiden here, especially not from something their darling engineer said. He plucked his whiskey glass up, downing a sip. "What can I say? I have that effect on people."

"I can't say I blame them," Aline commented with amusement in her old eyes. It took Monoco a moment to realize she'd appraised him so quickly, focused on his forearms, before her gaze flit to her son. "He looks like he's quite strong."

"Ridiculously strong," Gustave added so very helpfully.

"Strong enough to keep Verso in his place," Monoco finished, watching as Verso hid his scarlet face in his hands with a pitiful noise.

"This whole affair was a mistake," the noble heir concluded.

"Well," Aline hummed softly. "At least someone is capable of doing so."

It was hard not to cackle along with Gustave, the dual cries of 'Maman!' and 'Aline!' only adding to the humour of the situation while the Dessendre matriarch laughed right alongside with the rest of them.

[einradi]

Hello there! For the writing game, how about some vermoongoose whump? Gustave always sees Monoco and Verso taking more hits then him, putting themselves in danger for him, and for the rest of the Expedition. He tries to do the same for Verso, when he is about to get hit, and suffers the consequences (and upset Verso and Monoco) 🤭❤️

WHUMP. I gotchu. (￣^￣)ゞ

Gustave, mon ami, prepare to be whumped again

--

In a way, it made sense for Verso and Monoco to take the hits. Monoco didn't bleed, and his definition of pain was questionable at best. He did hurt, as far as Gustave could tell, and he often needed comfort for the worst of his aches. Yet like the old Gestral Warrior he was, battle crazed and hungry as he was, he took it just as anyone would expect of him: with great gusto and exaggerated tales.

Verso did bleed, but he was immortal. What might have been a fatal wound for the average man was much like a poor round of sleep for the man, even as he bled and coughed and sometimes even got cut clean in half. Though he tried, more often than not and at Gustave's request, to avoid hits these days rather than take a Nevron claw to the shoulder, he was still stepping into the frontlines before anyone had anything to say about it.

It hurt every time Gustave had to witness it.

It hurt every time Gustave had to piece them back together, or glue Monoco's arm back on, or comb the blood out of Verso's hair while waiting for him to revive.

So when the opportunity arose to save Verso from yet another painful recovery, he didn't think twice.

The moment the Luster darted forward, Gustave shoved the immortal out of the way.

Pain erupted through his side — familiar, awful, excruciating pain that ripped into his flesh and tore into his lung. It was laughable how easily he was thrown to the ground by the Nevron, slammed into the dirt as his partner's cries shouted with panic.

He wasn't too sure what happened beyond that. Awareness came and went in bits and pieces, his vision swimming. He heard dirt scrambling beneath frantic feet, felt trembling hands press firm against his wound. Gustave grit his teeth against the agony, his voice caught in his throat.

"You fucking idiot," Verso hissed, his beautiful blue eyes swimming into focus. "Putain de merde, Gustave, why the fuck would you do that?"

"Didn't—" Oh, talking was awful, so very awful. He sucked in a breath anyway to get the words out, even as pain roiled and seared through him when wooden hands replaced human ones. "Didn't— want you hurt—"

"I'm immortal!" came the snarl, as if that was the end of the discussion; as if Gustave was going to just let Verso hurt and be hurt just because he could bounce back.

"Still— hurts you."

"Yell at him later," Monoco cut in. His hands were stiff, cold, but apparently perfect for slowing down the flow of blood. "He needs a healing tint."

"I know, I know, I know—"

Gustave was sat up at some point, leaning against such a soft chest with too much fabric and not enough Verso. Soft fur tickled the back of his neck as his head. The bitter liquid slid down his throat, reluctantly cool but working near immediately. Breathing began to get easier, his blood trickled rather than flowed out of him.

Safe, now. Just as he'd managed to keep his two darlings safe today, pain free and healthy and whole.

The relief was immense. A chuckle slipped out of him. "You're— not going to hurt today. That's all that matters."

"You're not getting out of a scolding," Verso scolded still, taking the moment to card his trembling hands through unruly brown curls. "Being sweet does not negate the magnitude of your stupidity."

"But we can save it for when you're more conscious," the Gestral sighed, his touch softening as wooden arms slid under Gustave's body. "Rest now, mon cheri. We'll set up camp."