MadelineMire
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Summary
[Stone Wave Cliffs ends differently. Gustave becomes a pawn in Painted Renoir’s sick game.]
“I've no wish to fight you, so I'll leave them alone until they cross the barrier. No nighttime attacks. But if they do make it to the barrier, all bets are off.”
Verso's expression barely moves at the offer, and he asks the next question as if he already knows the answer. “In return for what?”
“A demonstration.”
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steel hearts are fragile things by MadelineMire
Fandoms: Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (Video Game)
20 Jan 2026
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Verso tells himself that getting close to the group is a means to an end. He'll be the worst of villains if it gets his mother out of this canvas. But he doesn't expect the expedition to sink real hooks into him--Maelle especially. A bad decision starts a spiral of events that take the characters places they never expected to go, and Verso realizes his heart may not be caged as tightly as he believed.
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In the beginning, an artist made all the chroma that ever was and ever will be.
Or, the Young Boy bears witness to the canvas, the fracture, and the final expedition.
Series
- Part 1 of Verso, Verso, and Verso's Canvas
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For a few years, Verso stopped eating.
Series
- Part 2 of Verso, Verso, and Verso's Canvas
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A Life to Paint but Not to Live: an essay on the surreal dystopia of Maelle’s ending by MadelineMire
Fandoms: Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (Video Game)
30 Jun 2025
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A essay breakdown of Maelle's epilogue, with pictures and description. I make the argument that the canvas is not well.
Full game spoilers. Do not read if you haven't completed the game. This is not a story fic; it is a fan essay.
LUMIÉRE IS LONG GONE, PIANO MAN, SO SING US A SONG TONIGHT
Recent series
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Verso, Verso, and Verso's Canvas by MadelineMire
Fandom Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (Video Game)
12 Jan 2026
Summary
A collection of my gen stories about Verso and the canvas, about the fracture, about painting and Painting, about the soul of the young boy and the real man who lived and the painted fascimile who cannot find rest.
- Words:
- 5,110
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 1
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"Verso," Sciel says, smiling brightly, "I'm starting to think you don't want our little expedition to succeed."
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Verso's working toward another end. Sciel won't let that happen.
Set during Act 3.
Bookmarked by MadelineMire
02 Mar 2026
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Summary
“Could you play for me?” she asks one evening, catching him alone in one of the rooftop gardens. “Please. Like in the camp, remember? Just this one time.”
He wants to say no, but — this feels different. He looks at her, pale in the dim light of the lanterns, and sees it immediately — the outline of the paint covering her face almost completely.
“You’re dying.”
She doesn’t deny it.
Or: Maelle and Verso have a chat decades after defeating the Paintress.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,760
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 36
- Kudos:
- 81
- Bookmarks:
- 11
- Hits:
- 339
Bookmarked by MadelineMire
22 Feb 2026
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He looks too tense and too tired. Like a man trying to mentally prepare himself for a battle he has no energy left to fight.
Verso doesn't want to fight him.
“Hey,” says softly.
His copy glances at him, almost startled. Then looks down again. Hesitates. Blinks a couple of times; nervously licks his lips. “I'm sorry,” croaks.
Verso tilts his head. “For what?”
His copy shrugs. “For existing.”
Or: at the end of the world, Verso meets a familiar face.
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But before she understood what was happening, the world tilted sideways and the cavern lights blurred into streaks. For one impossible moment she was weightless – suspended above the ground.
Lune hit the liquid stomach brine with a force that drove the air from her lungs in a single violent burst. The substance closed around her instantly; warm, viscous, thick enough that it clung to her limbs as she sank. The texture was like cooking oil mixed with mucus, like something half-alive trying to pull her deeper.
The brine forced itself against her mouth, seeped into the corners of her eyes, clawed into the grooves where pictos had overextended and bled.
She twisted, arms flailing for anything solid. Her legs scraped against slick muscle and found no traction. The water dragged at her clothing, at her hair, at her limbs, pulling her down and a hand collided with her back.
Then an arm wrapped around her ribs.
A chest pressed against her shoulder.
“Got you,” Verso’s voice, low and steady, came out of the darkness, distorted by the wet echo of their surroundings. His grip was firm, anchoring her as the two of them were jostled by the slow, rhythmic contractions of the bourgeon’s stomach.Series
- Part 2 of Painters Writers and Musicians
Bookmarked by MadelineMire
14 Jan 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
Amazing. 100% canon. Happened just like this.
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Summary
Verso smiled at her, and he felt ill. "We all do things we don't want to sometimes."
No Expeditioner is starving on Verso's watch.