Chapter two of Come Away is up!! Give it a read here! It continues to be absolutely fantastic and absolutely a delight to work on, have some protective Gustave <333
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter Two of my big Verstaveso fic is out! 🫶
Chapters: 2/6
Fandom: Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (Video Game)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Painted Verso Dessendre/Gustave, Painted Verso Dessendre & Young Boy | Verso’s Soul Shard, Original Verso Dessendre/Gustave, Painted Verso Dessendre/Gustave/Verso’s Soul Shard
Characters: Painted Verso Dessendre, Gustave (Clair Obscur: Expedition 33), Young Boy | Verso’s Soul Shard (Clair Obscur: Expedition 33)
Additional Tags: Porn with Plot, Maelle Ending | A Life to Paint (Clair Obscur: Expedition 33), Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), Dom/sub Play, Marriage, Anal Sex, Urethral Play, Anal Fisting, Threesome - M/M/M, Body Modification, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, Additional Warnings in Author’s Note, Consensual but Not Safe or Sane, Dom Painted Verso Dessendre, Bottom Gustave (Clair Obscur: Expedition 33), But there’s one switch scene, Psychological Drama
Series: Part 2 of Une vie à chérir
Summary:
Maelle left, now Painted Verso and Gustave have a happy (and kinky) life together. The Canvas has matured and watches the pair who is planning their marriage - until it doesn’t just watch anymore.
Seems like a piece of Verso is still alive after all.
3am doodles, struggling to draw shirtless chests also without reference trying not to make it look like I drew or sketched rectangles bec people love misinterpreting my art
Hi!!! I love your fics, phi 🥺 something O Brawling Love, O Loving Hate related? 🤲🏼
Oh my gosh, Deuce!!! You are too kind!! ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for requesting something related to O Brawling Love!!! It was so nice to revisit this verse. I opted to go with a bit of something from before the fic, so I hope you'll enjoy a bit of backstory!! 🥹❤️
Gustave knew that it was against the rules to Write a real person into a book or manuscript. He knew and understood the reason why, but he honestly wasn't sure who else to turn to or how to manage the burgeoning feelings that resided in his chest.
See, the thing was… Gustave was in love with a Painter.
And not just any Painter. No, that would be too easy. Gustave had made the unfortunate mistake of falling in love with his childhood friend, one Verso Dessendre.
A Dessendre: one of those most powerful Painter families in all of France.
He wasn't really sure when friendship had turned into something more, but at sixteen, the mere thought of Verso brought a flush to Gustave's cheeks. Butterflies fluttered in his belly, while his heart skipped a beat. His chest squeezed tight, and sometimes when the emotions became too overwhelming, all Gustave could do was bury his face in his pillow and try not to scream.
It had been two or three years now since Gustave had been allowed to spend time with Verso—officially. Tensions between Writers and Painters were growing worse by the day, and Gustave had heard his parents whisper about how they worried that there would bloodshed soon. Emma seemed nonplussed about the matter, while anxiety gripped Gustave.
Indeed, said anxiety even colored the time that he managed to spend with his friend, try as he might to ignore it.
Over the course of their long friendship, he and Verso had discovered their fair share of places to hide away, as children and teenage boys were wont to do. Forbidden to meet by their families, they continued to do as they pleased, sneaking away to spend time together. Their meet-ups weren't daily by any stretch of the imagination, but it was during these little rendezvous after school and during the weekends that Gustave felt most like himself.
But oh, he could hardly tell Verso the reality of his feelings.
Gustave was afraid of ruining their friendship—of running off the person that he cared for the most in the world. Taking ink to page had been an act of desperation as he felt his heart fill with too many emotions and too many confusing thoughts. After all, he couldn't talk about this to his family or peers, and it felt like with each passing day his feelings worsened.
He needed someone who would not immediately scold him for liking someone on the other side of this looming war. He needed someone who could help him sort through the mess of thoughts in his head. He needed someone who would listen.
He needed Verso. Well, another Verso.
So, over the course of a few months, Gustave wrote him into existence.
Now seventeen, his writing wasn't… the best; Gustave knew this. He was still learning and still getting better each and every day as he studied Shakespeare and Stendahl, Hugo and Dickens. Even so, he poured his heart and soul into his writing, crafting Verso with care.
He wasn't the real person, and Gustave didn't mean for him to be. It was just natural to let this secret confidant to take the shape and form of the person he trusted most in the world. Indeed, any attempts to try and write this individual as someone other than Verso ended up in failure.
His ability to pen an original character vanished like smoke each and every time he had sat down to Write. It felt a bit like a sign, and after a while, Gustave stopped pretending that this person was someone who wasn't a copy of his friend.
That first time that Gustave met his creation, he pulled him into a fierce embrace and thanked him. The boy who looked back at him had Verso's clear eyes and raven-black hair, and written with the knowledge of whom—and what— he was, this Verso welcomed him to the pages of his book with open arms.
"Why don't you tell him?" the other Verso asked as Gustave lamented over the feelings that filled him, and his expression went shy then. It was such an easy question, but Gustave could not deny that there were so many reasons.
To those around them, it was bad enough that they were still friends, but to ask for more? To want more?
"What if he doesn't like me that way?" Gustave asked, and the boy at his side could only shrug his shoulders. "I'd rather not lose him as a friend.
"Besides, a Painter and a Writer?" Gustave wrung his hands and shook his head. "We'd never be able to be together."
They barely had time to spend together now, and he knew that as they grew older that there would be more family—never mind creative—obligations for the both of them to take care of. The inevitability of a war between the Writers and Painters was forcing the both of them to grow up far faster than either of them would like.
How was Gustave supposed to manage if they became more than friends? How was he supposed to function as the adult that society demanded of him? He already spent an ungodly amount of time thinking about what it would be like to kiss Verso and what it would be like to—
"Maybe that's what the world needs right now."
Gustave flushed as he carefully shunted the indecent thoughts in his head away. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe the world needs a Painter to be with a Writer."
There was… a certain kind of naivety to this Verso that Gustave knew that the real one lacked. No, Gustave hadn't quite managed to capture the sharp wit that Verso had; this written Verso didn't quite have the mouth on him either—always criticizing the adults around him for causing problems for their generation.
"'It is nothing to die. It is frightful to not live.'"
Gustave blinked at this Verso before a lopsided smile pulled at his lips. "Seriously, you're quoting things at me?" he muttered, though with good humor. "You know, you're supposed to be a Painter."
The boy only grinned, and something caught in Gustave's chest—made it squeeze tight—to see that he'd gotten Verso's smile right.
"Fine," he groused before shaking his head, wry. "I get it." Gustave only had this one life, but... Was he too young to fall in love? Was this real? Was this worth pursuing in the face of… everything? Would he regret it if he never acted on his feelings? Gustave sighed quietly, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft—unsure. "I get it."
A hand settled against his shoulder. It wasn't Verso—not the real one—but it was a comfort all the same.
Even though he doesn’t forgive Verso, Gustave asks him to stay. Verso’s lies ultimately hadn’t changed the moments they shared and the feelings that had grown even if his secrets damaged their relationship in other ways. Gustave desperately doesn’t want to be alone in his final moments and Verso’s guilt keeps him glued to the other man’s side.
Gustave’s heavy heart pounds in his chest with anticipation. The only warning is the shockwave from the monolith. Afterwards there is a stillness like the world taking its final breath.
There is no chaos, there is no screaming, there are only petals in the wind. Verso pulls Gustave in close trying to keep him in his arms for as long as he can until he inevitably starts to disperse into hundreds of petals. Verso just holds Gustave and closes his eyes focusing on the feeling of the man in his arms not daring to look at him.
“See you…”
Gustave’s voice fades, Verso feels the warmth leave his arms. He pauses and waits…
Holding back tears closing his hands around petals he whispers to himself…
This was meant to be a server-only joke based on a lovely chatfic @skollwolf has written! And that fic is now on AO3! ERGO HERE YOU GO, SKOLL!
Also are you into omegaverse settings where Verso IS the Mask Keeper and Gustave is his arranged spouse? Well do I have the fic for you.
Read on AO3!
Also Also yes I am hilarious.
Ref for image by: @usesteeledstrikeongustavesbutt
Soooooo this is Verso's guardian angel. Is this another AU? YES... Angel!Gustave. Guardian angels are born at the same time as person who they take care of. So little Angel!Gustave grows up with Verso and try to make his life better and help him in need. At some point Gustave thinks Verso hears him because when Gustave tells him "It's okay to not follow your parents dreams Verso, please don't force yourself to do that" Verso says out loud "Thank you my angel you always make everything better." But is impossible to hear or see angels. Only interactions like real interactions are in Verso's dreams. It's not always that Gustave spends time in Verso's dreams now. When they were younger he was playing with Verso there but as they got older Gustave just watched and only intervene when nightmares came to Verso, but Verso noticed him one day with:
"Do I know you?"
"No, I don't think you do"
"Can I sit here?"
"Ummmm...yes?"
And that's how their little dream "dates" start. Gustave hopes other angels won't notice but he can't stop now especially when he sees that smile on Verso that in real life doesn't happen much, only around Alicia, others are those ugly fake smiles Verso puts on. So he continues and listen to Verso when he wants to vent about the pressure from his family or just how his day went. Then the day of the fire comes. Gustave knows and he can't do anything...just watch and whisper nothings to Verso when he dies in agony...but just before that beam is supposed to crush Verso and stop him from escaping, Gustave extend his wings to stop it...it hurts so much... his fethers burn and the smell is so bad but he yells to Verso "Run Verso please just run with Alicia." Verso stares at the beam that should crush and trap him here for a moment and runs. When Gustave knows Verso is safe he disappears ... he's summoned to heaven.
"WHAT DID YOU DO!?" Alan yells at him.
"I couldn't let him die and if he did his family would be in misery"
"I'm sorry Gustave. I really don't want this for you but we have rules, you have to face consequences of your actions. I'm really sorry Gustave ... forgive me my friend."
And if Gustave thought that him holding that beam hurt...this is so much worse. Hells fire is burning his wings so there is nothing left there. Agony like he never felt before...and then he's falling.
— So, you haven't told me what's written in it. – Verso said with a smile, tilting his head, curious.
Gustave looks up at him and smirks.
For a moment, Gustave thought it was a terrible idea, he casually invited verso to try a new Chinese restaurant in the suburbs witch happened to have a sweet smell and tiny tables.
Too close. Too intimate.
He could feel Verso's knees touching him under the table.
Gustave expected to finally say what he's been feeling for the man in front of him for a long time. He understood his fast heartbeat and rosé cheeks when he saw himself arriving soon at the university just to have a glimpse of Verso in the art class.
He spent a considerable amount of time writing poems. Nothing new for a literature teacher if it wasn't all the same theme: a particular white-strip head and silver eyed one he loved to hear playing piano in his students rehearsal.
On the table between them was a cracked fortune cookie. It's piece of paper was in Gustave's hands. Flushed.
— I'll read to you.
Que tu viennes du ciel ou de l'enfer, qu'importe
Ô Beauté! Monstré énorme, effrayant, ingénu!
Si ton œil,ton souris, ton pied, m'ouvrent la porte
D'un Infini que j'aime et n'ai jamais connu?
(What difference, then, from heaven or from hell,
O Beauty, monstrous in simplicity?
If eye, smile, step can open me the way
To find unknown, sublime infinity?)
De Satan ou de Dieu, qu'importe? Ange ou l'effroi,
Qu'importe, si tu rends, - fée aux yeux de velours,
Rythme, parfum, lueur, ô mon unique roi! -
L'univers moins hideux et les instants moins lourds?
(Angel or spectre, spirit, I don't care,
As long as velvet eyes and perfumed head
And glimmering motions, o my king, can make
The world less dreadful, and the time less dead.)
Too close, to intimate.
Gustave finishes, not knowing when he had shut his eyes, listened a chair sound, Verso was leaving, he thought, until he felt a hand in his chin.
He meets Verso's gaze. He was with glimmering eyes and his parted lips, right in front of him, with his other hand leaning on the table.
Shortening the distance in each breathing, Gustave lean in and his mouths smoothly meet in a simple touch.
Gustave hands goes to the sides of Verso's head and the piece of paper goes down on the floor.
You could read it if you want.
"Today you will find love, but most of it, you will find home."
————————————————————————
Yk that "make it happen than make it good"? I don't write like never, just decided to try. Was reading a poem book than had the idea. Idk kinda sucks but it is my true soul to that. It's difficult to express what you imagine, feel or touch.
The poem is from Hymne à la Beauté of Charles Baudelaire. I changed a bit, gonna put the link of the original here somewhere.
Tnx for reading, comments of my writing are actually welcome in comments. Not promising of doing again, but maybe u gonna see me somewhere.
— So, you haven't told me what's written in it. – Verso said with a smile, tilting his head, curious.
Gustave looks up at him and smirks.
For a moment, Gustave thought it was a terrible idea, he casually invited verso to try a new Chinese restaurant in the suburbs witch happened to have a sweet smell and tiny tables.
Too close. Too intimate.
He could feel Verso's knees touching him under the table.
Gustave expected to finally say what he's been feeling for the man in front of him for a long time. He understood his fast heartbeat and rosé cheeks when he saw himself arriving soon at the university just to have a glimpse of Verso in the art class.
He spent a considerable amount of time writing poems. Nothing new for a literature teacher if it wasn't all the same theme: a particular white-strip head and silver eyed one he loved to hear playing piano in his students rehearsal.
On the table between them was a cracked fortune cookie. It's piece of paper was in Gustave's hands. Flushed.
— I'll read to you.
Que tu viennes du ciel ou de l'enfer, qu'importe
Ô Beauté! Monstré énorme, effrayant, ingénu!
Si ton œil,ton souris, ton pied, m'ouvrent la porte
D'un Infini que j'aime et n'ai jamais connu?
(What difference, then, from heaven or from hell,
O Beauty, monstrous in simplicity?
If eye, smile, step can open me the way
To find unknown, sublime infinity?)
De Satan ou de Dieu, qu'importe? Ange ou l'effroi,
Qu'importe, si tu rends, - fée aux yeux de velours,
Rythme, parfum, lueur, ô mon unique roi! -
L'univers moins hideux et les instants moins lourds?
(Angel or spectre, spirit, I don't care,
As long as velvet eyes and perfumed head
And glimmering motions, o my king, can make
The world less dreadful, and the time less dead.)
Too close, to intimate.
Gustave finishes, not knowing when he had shut his eyes, listened a chair sound, Verso was leaving, he thought, until he felt a hand in his chin.
He meets Verso's gaze. He was with glimmering eyes and his parted lips, right in front of him, with his other hand leaning on the table.
Shortening the distance in each breathing, Gustave lean in and his mouths smoothly meet in a simple touch.
Gustave hands goes to the sides of Verso's head and the piece of paper goes down on the floor.
You could read it if you want.
"Today you will find love, but most of it, you will find home."
————————————————————————
Yk that "make it happen than make it good"? I don't write like never, just decided to try. Was reading a poem book than had the idea. Idk kinda sucks but it is my true soul to that. It's difficult to express what you imagine, feel or touch.
The poem is from Hymne à la Beauté of Charles Baudelaire. I changed a bit, gonna put the link of the original here somewhere.
Tnx for reading, comments of my writing are actually welcome in comments. Not promising of doing again, but maybe u gonna see me somewhere.
I can finally post my Bing Bang piece for Expedition 33! It was a delight to work on this piece, and the fic I illustrated itself is very good. Please check it out, the link is under the cut.
The Merchants of Petra - Chapter 1 - Diari - Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
Verso and Gustave are exhausted. They had given their all in the battle against the paintress and it had paid off. They won. Verso and Gustave take a moment to rest, backs against eachother as the others sprint ahead to plant the 33’s final expedition flag.
“Gustave…” Verso’s mind seems distant. There is a pain in his voice, “I can’t lie to you anymore… I… I need to tell you what’s about to happen… and even if the others know… I don’t think it will change anything…”
Verso pauses before he pours his heart out for the first time since Julie… raw, vulnerable, honest. He expects Gustave to be mad but he’s just silent. Staring at his prosthetic… processing the news of not being “real” about being a painted being stuck in a canvas, about how Verso ended up a plaything for this families grief and how badly Verso wanted it to end. And how the time he had been fighting for was never even an option.
“I’m not going to tell the others…” Gustave surrenders. “They deserve to be happy and hopeful in their final moments.”
“Gustave….” Versos voice breaks slightly from the hurt the guilt of it all. “I am so sorry…”
Verso kicks himself internally he wishes he had better words than just sorry.
“Thank you… for finally being honest…” Gustave musters out, his breath shaky as he simply stares at his hands and processes… quiet tears begin to fall down his cheek. Versos heart shatters but he knows he deserves it. After everything Verso deserves to feel every last shard of those words cut his heart to pieces.
Verso simply sits with Gustave quietly, like they have all the time in the world.
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