Warnings: Major Character Death (Not a Sans or Papyrus), Violence
“Rus is a young mage, his life is simple and for that he is greatful, that is, until a monster turns up on his doorstep late one evening and throws his entire world into disarray. Now he must battle with all new feelings of love, loss, and guilt as he is forced to adapt to this new way of life.”
A/N: And here we have the long awaited Mage AU spicyhoney/puppymoney fic that I promised to post in October since that’s the month of all the spoopy magic and monsters!
Really awesome start, Sin! Your world building and scenery descriptions are amazing, and you write action so well. Definitely looking forward to that Spicyhoney. 😏
You’re doing an incredible job on this series! I’ve been raving about the way you write sexual tension and intimacy to a couple of friends. It’s completely brilliant. This was wonderful.
I’m going to specifically use Paps and Edge from my Broken Bones universe for this.
Paps – With Edge. Specifically if he’s wearing Edge’s collar and close enough to touch. It’s very much a coping mechanism for him at this point.
Edge – In the Tale-verses. Particularly Underswap. He’s still a little tentative and on guard—honestly, that’s gonna take decades to fade—but he definitely feels safe there. Undyne’s house is his other safe place. He trusts her as much as he trusts his own brother—more, in some ways, because she’s generally more honest with him.
9. How do they like to sit?
Edge – back straight, ankles crossed, legs extended. If he’s tense, though, feet flat on the ground and ready to stand at a moment’s notice.
Rus – slouching, either curled into another person or a wall. He’ll also “manspread”. He drapes himself over things too. Especially when he’s trying to be humorously dramatic.
Leaning back in the couch, Red smutted on the bottle of mustard in his hand. He grinned as it burned in his throat – much to his brother’s horror, he’d mixed it with bourbon. His body buzzed pleasantly. And he could need it. In the armchair next to the couch, Stretch nuzzled Red’s brother’s neck before turning back to him, their hands intertwined. Rolling his eyes, Red threw his head back, taking another few gulps of his drink.
“C’mon, you two,” he drawled, scowling as the bottle coughed, proving he’d drunk it all. “Give a guy some peace from your PDA.”
Snorting, Edge raised an eyebrow. “Like how you respected my wishes not to see you bareboned when I had to come drag your half-unconscious ass home after you’d slept with prostitutes, you mean?”
“Yeah!” He blinked. “Wait. No. It’s cheating to play mind games when ‘m drinkin’, asshole.”
That had Stretch chuckling in Edge’s lap, and his eyes sparkled with amusement as he grabbed the second mustard bottle standing on the table, bouncing it in his hand. Red’s eyes followed it, and he narrowed them. “I think you’ll survive.” Stretch grinned widely. “So. You’ll wear a suit on Blue’s wedding? If I’ve got to, then so do you.”
“Yeah yeah, I will. Now gimme my mustard.” He snatched it out of the air as Stretch threw it, and immediately opened it, putting it to his mouth. The buzzing grew stronger. Edge huffed, but he didn’t actually care, Red knew that. He wasn’t going to drink himself into a stupor today. Rarely did, since they got to the Surface. The last time, it had only been because he’d somehow ended up in a drinking contest with Blue, and some-fucking-how, the Blueberry had won. Hadn’t Blue been rubbing it in his face the next morning, he would’ve believed he had hallucinated the entire evening.
As much as he pretended to hate his brother and Stretch’s public shows of affection, though, when Edge pressed a gentle kiss to Stretch’s hand and Stretch beamed at him, Red had a hard time to keep himself from smiling as well. It was… nice, to see his brother this content, this happy.
Stretch caught his gaze, and Red’s faint smile turned into a scowl as the other smirked. “How’s it going for you then, Red? Found anyone to romance you yet?”
A snicker. “Pretty sure my soulmate’s a bag o’ gummy worms, bud. But I appreciate yer concern,” he replied, throwing his free arm over the couch’s backrest. Romance? Nah, he didn’t give a damn. Never had. His brother may be the eternal romantic, but he personally had never seen the appeal. A bunch of good friends to drink with, and his brother. That was all he’d ever needed.
“I ate a whole bag of those this morning,” Stretch commented, shrugging. Exasperation flashed over Edge’s face, but he smiled.
Holding in a snigger, Red chucked the empty mustard bottle on him. Much to his disappointment, Edge caught it before it could hit its goal. “That was the love o’ my life, you fucking piece of shit.”
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