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Ani, for the writing game, can I request some og verstave fluff? I need to ingest og verstave energy 🥺🥺❤️
YES! I really hope you like this because this was entirely inspired by your lovely work <3
—
He wasn‘t supposed to see it.
Today there is a tour through the Dessendre manor, headed by Renoir himself: Showing private art pieces of the family to select people after the potential war between writers and painters finally seems to have been avoided. A message of peace, building a bridge between the factions. And Gustave, son of one of the highest ranking members of the writer’s guild, was invited as well.
Verso didn’t know he’d be here, taking the place of his mother for this important event. So when he’d left the door ajar to his private study, deeply engrossed into the portrait he’d been painting for literal months now - aiming to catch the right colour of gold on brown locks, adding the rich but nigh invisible green to the irises, giving utmost attention to each and every freckle he had spotted peeking out where Gustave’s shirt has blessed him with a view of naked skin - Verso didn’t expect the door to suddenly, loudly fall shut, and to turn around and see a flabbergasted Gustave standing there in his best midnight blue suit.
His brown eyes with those emerald tones Verso knows he will never fully be able to mirror on any canvas now stuck on his very own half-finished painted self.
Verso’s mouth falls open, silent - lowering his brush as his heart pounds in his ribcage.
“Hum… this…” Gustave begins in a whispered tone after a tense silence, slowly coming closer to his stunned painter friend. Awe seems to fill his eyes as he approaches and studies the portrait in more detail. “You… paint me?”
“Not with chroma.” Verso blurts out and immediately curses at himself for it. But he must clarify this immediately, as to not scare Gustave even more as he probably already does. It is not a living canvas - no violation of ethics - but a traditional painting made for viewing pleasure and nothing else.
Verso’s worship of Gustave stands naked and clearly visible in every brushstroke, more meaningful than any spoken out confession would ever be. Especially since the torso, arms and legs he attached to his friends painted face are naked - his vision of the incredible beauty he dreamed to be hidden beneath Gustave’s fine clothes.
And here Verso thought he’d never be brave enough to address his feelings. A deep blush spreads on his cheeks and he lowers his gaze to the marble floor, not able to look at the man that happened to find out about his secret devotion in this most embarrassing manner. “I’m… sorry. I should’ve addressed it sooner …”
“Do I really look this beautiful to you?” Not pointing out Verso’s fragile state of mind and much too captivated by the artwork, Gustave wonders aloud as he now stands in front of the canvas, reaching out to the linen and stopping his hand just an inch away, as to not smear any of the freshly painted pigments. His fingers hover over his painted self, tracing its slender form in admiration.
Blue-grey eyes watch him, stunned, finding not the disgust he thought he would see in Gustave’s expression. “Yes.” Verso breathes out, joining the other’s study as his lips form a shy, crooked smile. “Though I am… I admit that I am not too happy with how it’s going, only drawing by memory it’s not… it doesn’t look like you.”
“Does it need to be looking like me?” Gustave turns to send Verso a soft smile that makes his heart soar, utterly disarmed by the turn of events. “Isn’t it rather supposed to… capture my essence - is that how your father described it?”
True. Art is a mirror, showing not just reality but the artists thoughts about the subject. Verso’s view of Gustave.
With a nod and a knowing expression, Gustave gives the painting another reverent glance. “If I may offer up some critique though…” - Verso stiffens considerably as Gustave’s eyes fall back on him - “I think he is lonely.”
“Lonely…?”
“Yeah. His gaze… the soft, demure expression.” Gustave points at the empty space in the corner of the painting, what his mirrored self could be looking at. “It should fall on the one who deserves to be looked at this way. Who puts all of his adoration and love into this…” He faces Verso again, and his gaze is the very same he tries to immortalize on Canvas. “He should be looking at you.”
Verso’s brush falls out of his hand and to the floor, the sound of wood hitting marble resounding in the atelier. “Gustave…” He whispers his name and gone is his mask, voice now full of the same adoration he has put in his painting.
The other responds to his softly spoken name like a plea, crossing the distance between them and picking up Verso’s now empty hands with his while meeting his worshipful gaze with his own loving stare.
“Ask me. The question that is on your mind, my painter.”
“Would you… model for me? Please?” With trembling hands, Verso goes down on his knees and kisses Gustave’s fingers. His heart soars as he hears Gustave’s breath catch and feels him clutch his hands even tighter. “I want to immortalize your true essence. Your beauty… you are the most breathtaking man I’ve ever met. My muse… I beg you, please be my muse.”
A dust of red forms on Gustave’s cheeks and it takes all of Verso’s willpower not to reach up and kiss them. “Yes…” He answers and smiles, chuckling as Verso all but rushes to pick up his brush again. “Now? Alright…“
Unhurriedly, Gustave makes sure to fold his suit, shirt and pants as he undresses, watching Verso’s expressions in utter delight as his warm, blue eyes never leave him, studying every inch of revealed skin and trembling with the need to draw all of him.
Standing naked in the middle of Verso’s atelier and watching him paint in silence, Gustave feels nothing but happiness to have found him here and to have revealed their secrets. The secret of Verso’s utter devotion - and Gustave’s secret of wanting to receive it. From now till the end of time, preferably.
Writing game request: I'd love a look into the future of your fic "Encore". How does the soul boy live with Gustave and his 'grand frère' Verso? Does he grow up? Give him a heartfelt moment with his painted self pls!
Thank you so much for this wonderful request! It's been so much fun returning to this, and exploring the happy future they all worked so hard for. Hope you enjoy it!
I’ve also posted it on AO3 here!
Requests are CLOSED.
SUNFLOWERS
Verso loves being out in the Canvas.
It has been six months since he stepped out of the Heart of his painted world and started living in it, living with his big brother, and seeing the world he has created with his own eyes.
He hasn’t stopped Painting, but it is different now.
During the day, he gets to explore the word. And oh, is there much to explore! So many places, nooks and crannies, and he's far from seen even a quarter of it all. During the night, however, when his physical body rests, does his soul return to the Heart of the Canvas. But where before Painting was a chore he’d grown tired of, a task he had to perform without end in sight, now he gets to take the joys he sees in the Canvas and give it back to it.
And there are so many joys, too!
Verso likes flying on Esquie’s back with the wind in his hair as they are on their way to a new place to discover the most.
We, as he is never alone.
His big brother Verso is almost always by his side out in the Continent, and Gustave joins them more often than not. They remind Verso of papa and maman sometimes, with their soft touches and sneaky kisses they think he doesn’t see.
Monoco is there more often than not, too, and the Gestral never wastes an opportunity to hoist Verso up on his shoulders to give him a better view of whatever area they are exploring.
Maelle—because that is who she is here inside the Canvas—joins too, but only sometimes. She splits her time between the Canvas and the Outside, and when she’s around she’s always so busy. Yet she never fails to make some time to spend with all three of her brothers.
But while he enjoys running amok in the Continent, he absolutely loves spending time in Lumière.
It’s the place where he lives with Verso and Gustave. Where he has his own room, where he can go to school, where he is making friends with kids his own age.
Lumière, where he can be a boy.
But it is confusing sometimes, because there are two Verso’s in Lumière. When Gustave calls for Verso, they both look. But the more time he spends in Lumière, the less he feels like Verso.
Verso is his big brother. Verso is the part of him that Paints while he sleeps.
Here, having crawled out of his attic bedroom window to sit on the roof, feet dangling off the side as he watches his new home below him, he doesn’t feel like Verso.
The sound of someone clambering up the roof makes him look up, and when Verso sees his brother inelegantly stumble across the roof he giggles, much to the older’s dismay.
“Oh you think that’s funny?”
Verso nods, kicking his feet in the air in amusement as the other sits down next to him with a heavy sigh. “You’re old.”
“Pot and kettle, mon petit,” his brother teases with a grin.
Verso pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’m eleven.”
He’s also around a century old, but that is in the Heart of the Canvas, not out here in Lumière.
His brother raises an eyebrow, giving him the same amused look papa used to give him. Then, he shakes his head with a smile. “Well, what’s an eleven year old doing on the roof? Nothing silly, I hope.”
Verso is quick to shake his head. “Just wanted to see uimière.”
“See?” his brother asks like he doesn’t believe him. “Or do you want to race over the rooftops? We could…” he stretches out his hand in front of him as his eyes jump from rooftop to rooftop before he looks at Verso with a grin. “We can see who is the fastest Verso.”
Verso hesitates. He has raced the rooftops with Maelle and it was a lot of fun. He’d love to do it with his brother, too! Maybe they can ask Gustave to join, Maelle did say he raced a lot with her when she was still living in Lumière. But he doesn’t want to race to find out who the fastest Verso is…
The older frowns at his lack of answer and places a hand on Verso’s shoulder. “Mon petit?”
Verso kicks his legs in the air, watching his feet. “I don’t want to be Verso anymore,” he whispers.
“What do you mean?”
Verso looks up at his brother with a frown. He feels… confused, and a little sad. It’s strange. “You are Verso.”
“So are you.” The older turns a bit, swinging one of his legs up onto the roof so he can face Verso better. He looks at him with worry in his eyes. “What’s on your mind, mon petit?”
Verso sighs with a small pout. “I want my own name.”
His brother hums. “Like how Alicia is Maelle here in the Canvas?”
“Yes!” Verso nods with a smile, happy that his brother understands. It’s why they are brothers, after all. “And then you would be the only Verso.”
His brother freezes at that, his face doing something complicated that Verso doesn’t understand. “I— you can be anything and anyone you want to be. If you want to be Verso, then you can be. Don’t let the fact that we share a name stop you, mon petit.” His expression softens and he smiles. “We are more than facsimiles of a dead man, even if we both have his name. We’ve been given a chance to live the lives we want to live in the Canvas. You don’t have to adapt to anyone but yourself, alright?”
“I never felt like a fasi… facsimel…” Verso stumbles over the foreign word.
“Facsimiles,” his brother helps with a chuckle. “But I guess copies is a bit less pretentious.”
Yes,” Verso nods, and thinks he is very nice to not tell his brother that pretentious is a very pretentious word, too.
Suddenly, a thought comes to his mind. Because if he wants a new name… His eyes widen. “Do you want to be Verso?”
His brother nods without hesitation. “I do. It’s not always been easy, but I don’t know who else I should be.” He leans his head to the side with a curious look. “If not Verso, who do you want to be? Do you have a name you like?”
“No,” Verso says, shaking his head.
“Ah.”
He hadn’t gotten that far. But that only means that: “We can pick one together!”
His brother laughs, putting his hands behind him and leaning back into a more relaxed position. “Alright, let’s do this.” He thinks for a moment. “What is… your favourite flower?”
“Sunflowers!” Verso exclaims without hesitation. “Like the one in my Drafts.”
“They are very pretty.”
“Yes! They have Esquie’s face!” He likes normal sunflowers too. They are very happy flowers, but the ones in the Drafts are the most fun as they remind him of his marshmallow friend.
His brother hums. “You could be… Maman, she had a friend, outside the Canvas. A Painter.”
Verso giggles. “Maman only had Painter friends.”
“But this one wasn’t with the Council,” his brother says softly, like he is sharing a secret. “He wasn’t from France. He was from the Kingdom of the Netherlands. That’s up north.”
“I know.” Verso rolls his eyes. He knows where the Kingdom of the Netherlands is.
“Smart lad.”
“We are.”
“Not always,” his brother mumbles with a dark expression. When he shakes his head, he looks normal again. “But, the Painter… he stayed in Paris for a while, I’m not sure you remember. We were… eight at the time, I believe.”
Verso shakes his head. Memories are difficult. Sometimes he does, and other times he doesn’t remember. And just sometimes a memory becomes loose, like a brick in a wall, and falls out for him to find. “What did he make?”
“Remember the painting of papa and maman they kept in their bedroom?”
Verso thinks it over. He knows the manor very well because it’s right here in the Canvas. And even if it’s not the real manor, it’s still a copy. “The weird blue one?”
“Yes, it's them at a café, drinking wine,” his brother explains. “He painted that. His style was always quite… eclectic. And the one at the café wasn’t the only one he made that’s in the manor.”
Verso frowns when his brother doesn’t continue. “Which one? Tell me!”
His brother grins. “No. I’m training your memory.”
“Not fair,” Verso says with a pout.
“But it’s fun.”
“Not for me.”
“I’m your older brother, it’s my job to tease you,” the older says with a laugh, he looks happy and relaxed. “But, I’ll give you another hint… he also painted with maman a few times, up in the greenhouse. We were there, once, plucking the flowers to maman’s great dismay. He painted those flowers. For Verso.”
Verso scrunches his nose as he thinks. He imagines the greenhouse, with its many flowers and pretty light. Tries to see maman there, painting with a friend while he is…
Picking sunflowers!
He was picking the sunflowers when maman scolded him and the red haired, bearded man behind the second easel chuckled.
“I remember! It is the sunflower painting!” he cries with a laugh. The laugh fades as he remembers the man, and Verso frowns. “He was a sad man.”
His brother nods with a sigh. “He was.”
“But…” Verso frowns to himself. The man had looked sad, but he had still been amused when Verso picked the flowers. He had still made him a painting of said flowers. Verso gasps, his eyes widening. “He is sad but makes beautiful things that make people happy. He is like me!”
His brother’s eyes widen and he straightens himself so fast Verso is afraid he’ll tumble off the roof. “Are you still sad?”
Verso shakes his head. “No! I’m happy now, and the Canvas is too.” He pats the roof, looking at Lumière with a smile.
For so long, the Canvas had been in pain, and it had hurt him too.
But now that is all over, and he will have a new name.
“What was his name?”
“Vincent. It means victorious.” His brother winks at him. “Quite fitting, don’t you think?”
“I want that name,” Verso says with a resolute nod. “I want to be Vincent.”
His brother, now the only Verso in the Canvas, smiles. “A good choi—”
“Are you two up there?”
Both Vincent and Verso’s heads turn as they hear Gustave call out for them through Vincent’s bedroom window. He sounds confused.
Vincent giggles.
“We are!” Verso calls back.
“What are you doing up there?”
Verso looks at Vincent and winks. “Talking.”
“On the roof?” Gustave sounds amused, like he thinks they are a bit silly.
Maybe they are.
Verso chuckles. “The view is pretty good.”
“Well, lunch is ready when you are done talking!”
“Merci!” Verso calls back to his boyfriend—and Vincent feels proud, because he helped with that! He stands up and reaches out a hand to his little brother with a smile “Shall we go, Vincent?”
Vincent takes his brother’s hand with a happy laugh, and together they make their way back to the bedroom window.
Vincent and Verso, younger and older brother.
Both living happily in the Canvas they call their home.
hear me out
verstave
Alan and Sciel know Gustave has been planning on proposing for WEEKS now and are proceeding to be little shits about it every time the four of them are around (they gotta affectionately bully their bestie til he finally pops the question, y'know?)
maybe verso gets the hint? or he's clueless, which makes it even funnier for the two of them...they just want their friends to be happy though, thats what matters 💖
Oblivious Verso and little shits Alan and Sciel are absolutely hilarious! Thanks for the prompt!
ENGAGEMENT RING
Gustave wants to murder Alan and Sciel, and at this point he’s not sure he would even bother to make it look like an accident. He’s certain that if he were to tell a courtroom why he killed his two best friends, they’d side with him too.
Because they are sitting side by side on the coffee shop’s terrace, with glimmering eyes like the scheming children they are, talking about jewellery.
Not just any jewellery.
Rings.
Because they know very well that Gustave has bought an engagement ring for Verso, and is planning to ask if his partner will marry him soon.
He just needs to gather his courage and make the dinner reservations.
They have also told him that he is being silly. Verso will not say no, so why is Gustave hesitating? Especially since he bought the ring already.
Gustave knows they’re right, and it’s not that he thinks Verso will say no—they have discussed marriage, after all. He just wants things to be perfect, which does not go well with his ability to overthink literally everything.
He knows they are excited, but at the same time he wonders why they have to be such little shits about it.
“I like silver more, looks better on my skin, you know?” Sciel asks, holding up her left hand where she’s not only wearing her wedding ring, but an additional six other rings as well on various fingers.
“Classic.” Alan says with a nod and a fond smile at his wedding band. “It’s just the one gold one for me.”
Exactly, Gustave wants to scream. Because it’s so obvious that Alan does not care about jewellery at all, and yet he is entertaining this conversation with nothing but glee.
Gustave dares a glance at Verso.
His partner is sipping his drink, watching Sciel and Alan with curious amusement in his eyes. He seems, however, completely oblivious as to why they are talking about this.
Which is good.
Now Gustave just needs to find a way to stop this conversation before this ridiculously dense man figures things out.
“Did you pick it out?” Sciel asks, as if she doesn’t know.
Alan laughs. “I gave my opinion. I did pick out the engagement ring, though.”
Gustave nearly chokes on air, barely managing to cover it up with a fake cough and a reassuring hand-wave at Verso that all is fine.
“How was that?” Sciel asks gleefully, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “I searched so long for the perfect one…”
“What is this, a jewellery club?” Gustave asks with a frown, looking at Sciel first and Alan second.
“Oh come on, Gustave!” Sciel says with a grin. “We’re just chatting.”
Alan nods along. “Verso doesn’t seem to mind.”
Verso looks between Alan and Sciel with a slight hint of panic in his eyes. “I’m just here to drink coffee.”
Sciel takes a sip of her drink before she smirks at Verso. “And talk about jewellery.”
“Any preferences?” Alan asks.
“You’re asking me?” Verso laughs and holds up his hands. “I don’t wear any jewellery.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice, though?” Sciel almost purrs. “To have a ring?”
Gustave’s eyes widen at Sciel’s question, his cheeks burning in a mix of frustration and embarrassment because surely, surely, Verso will catch on now.
Verso looks at his hands with a frown, oblivious. “I… guess?”
Gustave lets out a long breath, threading a hand through his hair.
Verso’s eyes snap to him, and he frowns with worry almost right away. “You alright?”
Gustave nods and waves a hand in the air. “I’m fine.”
And Verso might not catch on to the topic of conversation, he does immediately catch Gustave’s lie. “Your cheeks are flushed…” he mutters, tipping his head to the side. “It is rather warm out today. I’ll get you another lemonade.” He stands up and looks at Alan and Sciel. “You two want anything?”
“Coffee!” Alan asks, raising his empty cup.
“A lemonade would be nice…” Sciel muses.
“Be right back,” Verso says with a nod before he makes his way to the counter.
“If he figures it out before I ask him because of your stupid jokes, you two are paying for the wedding,” Gustave hisses at his two friends.
Both Alan and Sciel just laugh at him, teasingly telling him to get a move on and just ask Verso.
“I will!” Gustave exclaims. He looks towards the counter, where Verso is waiting for their drinks and looking at his left hand with a curious frown and small smile.
Gustave ducks his head with a blush. “Very soon,” he adds, making a mental note to call the restaurant tomorrow for that dinner reservation.
It would be better if Verso has a ring to admire, after all.
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I've actually been sitting on this one for a few weeks, but couldn't post due to vacation. But here it is now! Enjoy!
☁︎｡ ོ ｡˚｡☼･────･✰⋆｡˚✧⁺₊☽
FIC SUMMARY
After Verso loses his family to a house fire, he takes up a position as lightkeeper in an attempt to flee from both his grief and the prying eyes of Parisian high society.
Lumière is as sleepy as little towns come, and its folk are as kind and curious as one would expect. The lighthouse itself sits just out of town, on a little cliff jutting out from the coast of Bretagne. It’s an old place in a state of obvious disrepair, but thankfully the town’s engineer Gustave is as capable as he is handsome.
The perfect place for Verso, even though the sea starts whispering to him in his family’s voices at night. Grief can do that to a man, he thinks.
But when Gustave warns him not to listen to those that call for him in the darkness with a haunted look in his eyes, Verso realizes there is more at play in Lumière, and that his peaceful lightkeeper escape might turn out not to be so peaceful after all.
Hello there! For the writing game, how about some fluffy domestic verstave. Maybe it’s only recently after the events of the game and all ended in a as-happily-ever-after-as-possible 3rd ending. Verso is unused to the comforts of a proper home after so long out on the Continent and Gustave surprises him with breakfast in bed.
what a fun and cute prompt
please enjoy this little bit of slow and soft Verstave
Verso could never have guessed his life would be like this.
The world had gone dark for a moment, for his body was finally at peace. Then a light opened up in front of him. The smell of paint took over his nose with a hint of turpentine that seemed to lessen the weight on him, keeping him down.
There was something strange, for it was calling to him… on voices he recognised in an instant - line and Sciel calling to him, Monoco's staff coming through the light with the bell ringing to guide him, and finally, a hand - a mechanical reached out. He had seen it only once or twice before this.
He gripped with all his might and allowed himself to be pulled out. His friends had come to get him a new canvas, one without the need for a paintress to be inside.
He came out of the light pretty fast and with such force that he couldn't control the way his body landed on something, or rather someone. As Verso first met those deep pools of brown, wide eyes filled with life and content and the way the man's hair, those curls that framed his face with ease.
This is how he, Verso Dessendre, literally fell in love with Gustave.
Verso was known for his ability to flirt but not for his ability to court something into a long-term relationship, after weeks of visits to Gustave Workshop and finally asking the girls for help.
He was able to get Gustave out of the workshop and into a nearby restaurant. The invite he had sent was specifically for fancy attire. Verso stopped working the moment Gustave walked in with that white suit with the red flower tucked into his hair. The same one Sciel said to put in his own. The girls had clearly schemed behind his back, but he was… thankful. It was a nice talking point for them, and now they could enjoy their time. the food, the wine and each other's company, followed by a walk along the harbour. where they walked side by side, hands brushing gently next to each other.
It wasn't long before the next date, then their first kiss and eventually, after months of discussing, their first night tonight. No one knows what happened behind closed doors, but it solidified them.
Verso awoke, he woke up feeling rested, his hand moved across the bed to where his partner should be… but when his hand only felt the soft fabric of the mattress, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and noticed he woke up alone in his apartment. part of him thought it was all a dream, their dates and more, but then, looking across the room to the desk that housed Verso's sheet music and some of Gustave's blueprints, he, sneakily, brought home with him from work. He saw Gustave's clothes on the chair and finally their photographs that hung on the wall.
The man lay back down on the pillow, turning more to Gustave's side of the bed; he could still smell him. The scent of his lover, his partner, made him relax instantly.
He started his daydream, his hands taking a grab of the duvet and taking it in his arms as if Gustave was there.
He was pulled out when he heard the bedroom door being knocked. It was light but against the wood, slightly echoed.
Verso sat back. He quickly ran his hand through his hair, trying to neaten it up, as if Gustave had never seen him in his sleep with no care in the world.
The smile that appeared on his face as his fresh-faced boyfriend walked in with a tray of food. Verso adjusted himself by placing a few of the pillows he had just behind his back for a better position.
Gustave waltzed into the room. He danced slightly as he carefully carried the tray over to the bed and gently placed it on the bed sheets, on top of Verso's legs.
Verso's eyes widened at the variety of food he was presented with, the large glass of orange juice, and, finally, he felt the soft warmth of lips kissing his forehead. "Bonjour, Mon ange, did you sleep well?"
"Gustave, what's… what the occasion?… oh, oh god… I missed something important… I…" Verso just spiralled, for the fear started to well in his eyes. His first actual relationship, and he truly messed it up.
"Shhhh, Mon Ange, you've not messed up nor have you missed anything." Gustave smiled, placing a finger under Verso's chin and kissing him, knowing that the only way to shut him up was by kissing him. It was slow, sweet and soft as Verso melted to the touch.
They gently released, and Gustave took a soft breath in relief. "I wanted to do something nice for you, and I think you would like being treated like royalty for the morning… however…" Gustave looked to the side, looking away with guilt across his face.
"What did you do, Mon tresor?… don't tell me… oh no." Verso knew it instantly. "… my poor kitchen."
"Well, I've given you something to do after a hearty breakfast and some time in bed." Gustave leaned forward and stole a strawberry from atop the crepe. biting into the fruit and letting the juice drip down.
"Oh, you minx, teasing me that so that afterwards I'm not going to be so angry about how messy my lovely kitchen is…
Gustave laughed and ate the strawberry, licking his fingers seductively, "Well, it works… doesn't it…."
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Verstave. And because this is on my mind due a future fic.
Scar worship!
Either works, but I think i would love to really see Verso worshiping Gustaves scars! But again either works.....or both worshipping the each other's!
Thanks for the request, Snow! Love me some scar worship, and I hope you enjoy it!
I’ve also posted it on AO3 here!
I’m still taking requests as well, should anyone have one… go here for more info!
SCARS
The first time Verso notices is in Summer.
It’s the first Summer in Lumière since they defeated the Paintress, struck a deal with both Renoir and Alicia, and the Canvas is theirs again—and Verso’s mortal life, finally, his own.
The sun is a fierce thing, cold a long forgotten sensation, and the ladies are out in their light skirts and fans while the men wear loose linen pants with shirt sleeved shirts.
Gustave, however, seems to always wear long sleeves. He rolls them up during the day, up until his elbows, and doesn’t quite care that some might find it scandalous that he opens up the top three buttons as well in an ill attempt to stave off the worst of the afternoon heat.
When Verso mentions a shorter sleeved shirt, he is brushed off.
He pays more attention after that.
Notices that Gustave doesn’t take his prosthetic off around company, even when it’s bothering him—possibly hurting him.
Even if that company is Verso.
It stirs a suspicion in him.
He is well accustomed with the insecurities that come with a body you think has failed you. His scars and aches have accumulated over the years, after all, and there are days where he feels like his body is an ugly, painful prison more than anything else.
Verso’s suspicions are confirmed when he walks into their bedroom late one afternoon to find his love shirtless in front of the floor-length dressing mirror, his prosthetic on their bed.
Gustave must be deep in thought not to hear Verso approach, but it gives him just enough time to see Gustave’s frown as he looks, pokes and prods at his stump and decade-old scars.
He looks conflicted, unhappy, and Verso’s heart aches in compassion and understanding.
Verso’s weight shifts, and the floorboards beneath his feet creak in protest.
Gustave turns around right away, a soft gasp from his lips and his eyes wide. His hand shoots up almost right away, covering his stump.
It is in that moment that Verso comes to the startling realisation that he can count on his two hands the times he has seen Gustave without his prosthetic, and they’ve only been intimate a mere handful of times without Gustave wearing it.
Verso wants to hit himself for not noticing before.
But now that he has, he won’t allow it to continue.
“Verso! You’re home early,” Gustave greets, insecure and with a fake smile on his lips. He moves to the bed to, presumably, pick up either his prosthetic or shirt.
“Just in time to tell my partner how beautiful he is,” Verso says, stepping into the room with a soft smile.
Gustave grimaces.
“I’m serious,” Verso says. He takes a few steps to close the distance between them and kisses Gustave, gentle and reverent. “You’ve been hiding from me,” he whispers, raising a hand and trailing the back of it over Gustave’s naked left shoulder. “Why?”
Gustave lowers his eyes with a hapless shrug as he tries to angle his body away from Verso.
“Turn around,” Verso says softly, a gentle request that Gustave can easily deny if he wanted to.
He doesn’t.
Turns to face the mirror again.
Verso shrugs off his vest and tugs off his shirt. He sees Gustave watching him through the mirror, eyes roving his chest. His arms. A furrow on his brow.
“I don’t have many scars because my body would heal them by itself,” he says. He steps up to Gustave and presses his chest against the other’s back, bringing his arms around the other’s body. He settles his right hand in the curve of Gustave’s waist and brings the other up to caress his left shoulder. “I would be covered in them if it hadn’t.” He raises his eyes to catch Gustave’s hazel ones in the mirror. “What would you think of me if that had been the case? Would you think me ugly?”
Gustave shakes his head without hesitation. “Of course not!”
Verso hums. He strokes his fingers down, towards the scars surrounding his stump. He lightly touches the raised skin, waits until Gustave’s eyes are drawn down to it, before he murmurs: “Then why do you insist on seeing yourself that way?”
Gustave lets out a harsh breath. “I— I am missing an arm.”
“And has that made you any less capable?” Verso challenges. He trails his finger along the curve of Gustave’s arm, along the scars, the skin so sensitive that Gustave shudders under the soft touch. “Less smart? Less caring?”
Gustave’s eyes are firmly on Verso’s fingers, taking in the way the other touches him so gently over the part of him that is so ugly. But Verso’s touch, his words, are reverent. Filled with praise and love.
Gustave can’t help but shake his head.
No, the loss of his arm did not take away his qualities.
Verso makes a pleased sound at Gustave’s agreement. He presses a lingering kiss just below his ear in appreciation. Then, with his warm breath against Gustave’s neck a caress just as gentle as his fingers on their exploration to map every bit of scarred skin, does Verso murmur: “You are not less of anything because you lack one arm, mon trésor.”
Gustave gasps at the words that speak out loud the root of his insecurities.
Verso kisses his cheek, the arm on Gustave’s waist tightening as he pulls the other man closer against him. “You are beautiful, with or without arm. With or without these scars.” His fingers draw lazy circles against Gustave’s waist as Verso leans his head down to kiss Gustave’s shoulder. Down his arm, to the scars. Soft presses of his lips he hopes push all the love he feels for this man right into his very skin. “They show your strength, your resilience, your survival. They are a part of you, make you into the gorgeous man that you are.”
Gustave trembles in his arms, his body leaning back against Verso’s, bringing them almost impossibly close.
Verso kisses his way up, nuzzles the sensitive skin beneath Gustave’s ear. “The man that never fails to steal my breath away, even now.” He wraps his hand around Gustave’s stump, thumb gently caressing the scars at the edge of it. “Especially now.”
“Verso…” Gustave breathes, something between a gasp and a forced down sob.
Verso looks up, catching Gustave’s awe-struck, slightly overwhelmed eyes with his. “This is who you are, Gustave.” He smiles. “I love you.”
Gustave smiles back at him through the mirror. “I love you too. So much.” He turns around, Verso’s hands falling away. Gone are his insecurity, his shyness. Replaced by grateful eyes and a fond grin. “But by the Paintress do I need you on our bed right now so I can kiss you silly.”
Verso laughs. “My pleasure,” he murmurs.
Although if Gustave thinks moving to the bed will make Verso stop worshipping him, he’s wrong.
Hello there! For the writing ask game, how about some verstsave modern au. Maybe Maelle / Alicia set them up on a first date, but little does she know did the boys drunkenly meet and hook up once a few months ago, and have been unable to either locate or forget the other…
I have no excuses. This snippet grew legs and ran away from me full speed.
It turned into a one-shot:
You can read it on Ao3!
For tumblr, just a small preview:
***
“Putain…”, Verso curses but does get ready for that meetup he definitely doesn’t want to attend.
Not because he doesn’t like Maelle - Alicia’s best friend is a sweetheart and they are wonderful together, behaving more like inseparable twins whenever they share some time. If he’s honest to himself, he would not mind Maelle being a third sister for him.
But the girls insisted - with their scheming little grins - for both their brothers to come and ‘hang out’ as well. And Verso didn’t want to meet new people today - can anyone fault him for that?
Ok, that’s only partially true. But he is never going to explain to his innocent sister the real reason he doesn’t want to meet any new man, especially not if Alicia really tries to turn her best friends brother and him into a couple somehow.
It’s sweet of her to try to get him someone if she already knows the man is a nice person, yes. Especially after the disastrous dates he had those last few months — Verso shakes his head to get those awful memories out of his mind immediately.
It’s just… nobody compares to that man, that one night.
Several months ago. When he needed a distraction from life, he gladly had some contacts in Paris to fall back to. In the famous Chat Noir restaurant near Moulin Rouge. He played the piano for the many international guests while still sober - and then he had been distracted by the most gorgeous Frenchman he’s ever laid eyes upon.
Never did he miss that many notes in one night before.
He just had to know how heavenly those rosy lips taste. How good his handsome beard would feel against his skin. If his brown locks are as silky as the dim light of the bar made it look to be.
The real thing was better than his imagination. Even if by the end of it he could only remember about half of the things that happened. They drank and drank - Verso thinks he remembers a sort of drinking battle involving too much whisky for any sane man.
And Verso fucking mad at himself for having been too drunk to ask him for a name and or number. The only souvenir he got being the pleasant ache in his nether region and the multitude of hickeys he woke up with in that unfamiliar hotel room.
That man never reappeared in the Chat Noir. Two weeks in, Verso stopped looking. He apparently did not want to meet again. And Verso hates himself for still missing him.
“Brother?”
“Almost done, mon Lys… wait, THIS outfit? Do you want me to melt to a puddle in the summer heat?”
***
Read it all here (Rated M/ Verstave, mutual pining, non-explicit sex, drunken shenanigans, boys kissing, fainting, idiots in love)
It had been one of those ideas thrown in for shits and giggles, just a random 2 AM thought that everyone should have forgotten about the next day. Because when you're a group of seven friends, no idea ever makes it out of the group chat successfully.
Until now.
Which is how they find themselves on a honest-to-God camping trip to the Côte d'Azur, ready for some sun, sea and fun.
READ CHAPTER 1/8 HERE
Here we go! This is my contribution to the @gestral-village Summer Shenanigans event. I'll be posting for one of the prompts for each day, and each chapter will focus on one character.
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Send me an ask with a prompt/image/quote and I'll write something short!
Some people have been doing this and I’m joining in too! I’ll be answering over the next few days as I’m relaxing at the pool in t sun. Sooooo, let’s go.
I will currently take only E33 prompts!
I will write for:
Any character (with preference for Verso, Gustave and Sciel)
Most ships (no incest, and with verstave as my preferred obsession option)
AU, in-universe, alternate timeline, anything from my fics, go wild!
Nothing that would need an AO3 major content warning
Since this is quite open, if there’s any request I’m uncomfy with I’ll reach out and let you know so you can submit something else!
It had been one of those ideas thrown in for shits and giggles, just a random 2 AM thought that everyone should have forgotten about the next day. Because when you're a group of seven friends, no idea ever makes it out of the group chat successfully.
Until now.
Which is how they find themselves on a honest-to-God camping trip to the Côte d'Azur, ready for some sun, sea and fun.
READ CHAPTER 1/8 HERE
Here we go! This is my contribution to the @gestral-village Summer Shenanigans event. I'll be posting for one of the prompts for each day, and each chapter will focus on one character.
discoholicmusic
vaporwave
kaledo-art
dailybridgerton
andulkaphoto
snowghoul
germansingergirl
prguitarman
