#i kind of want to add the skeletal tip of his tail back but i really like the fluff....

[hungersauce]

older doodles from an au concept i was tumbling around a while back. i'm probably gonna rework a lot of the actual story but the basic concept was something like "benry as a fucked up kelpie/banshee type thing that just kind of crops up where people are about to die." sometimes he comes in vulture flavor.

[doodly-doods]

Valentine’s Day PT I

Ketchup dipped water sausages.

That’s what Frisk came up with for Valentine’s day. She crossed her arms glaring down at her concoction slumped on the cutting board. There was no cute way to package it. It felt like a prank from Sans, himself. Too bad she couldn’t blame her lack of creativity on him.

She released a deep sigh, unaware she was holding. Frisk picked up a small white, draw-string baggy she purchased from a hobby shop and looked it over. She brushed her finger over the suede red heart she stitched on the center. Frisk smiled softly. Despite how silly her gift felt, it was important he receive it.

Somehow, Frisk needed to keep the sloshy ketchup juices in the bag, and make sure the cut up wieners didn’t become soggy — he’d actually want it doused, soaking in ketchup.

Under the shade of the darkened living room, Chara watched his twin from afar. He tilted his head curiously, and briefly glanced his phone’s lock screen. Ah, that’s right. A perk to his lips, he sauntered into the kitchen and belted out, “Greetings!” startling his younger-by-five-minutes sibling. In her fright, she tossed the bag filled with the savories into the air with a squeak.

“Chara!” Frisk swiped at her brother who dodged her slap easily. “Don’t make me get the frying pan!”

Chara hunched forward in a mock-cower, “Not the paaaaaan~!” He straightened looking up at the ketchup stained ceiling. “If you’re gonna grab a pan, get a sauce one. I like my chocolate freshly melted, thanks lil’ sis.”

Frisk growled and caught his stare upwards. She jumped. “Look what you did! It’s ruined!”

“Silly Frisk. I wasn’t the one pitching food at the ceiling. Which,” his eyes narrowed with disdain, “I might add, food that should’ve been pitched into the trash. What were you thinking, Frisk? Trying a new diet?”

Frisk puffed out her cheeks, “dummy! It’s not for me! It’s not…something I’D eat… either way it’s not going in anyone’s stomach from up there!”

“Pfft. Perhaps a Muffet would, but I think they have working tastebuds.” Chara scoffed, bored of teasing his sister looking at the cutting board. In their argument, he failed to notice, the small, now stained, drawstring bag discarded by the sink in its descent.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Monster kid.” Frisk cursed inwardly realizing how quickly she answered. Chara’s eyes narrowed. “That runt likes,” he paused to sniff the air, “hot dogs that much to receive it as a gift for Valentine’s day?” He watched her smugly as she snatched up her bag from the countertop, rinsing residual condiment stains from the fabric.

“He might.” Frisk flushed at her pathetic reply. Did her brother know about her now-obvious crush on Sans? “Shouldn’t you be emptying grocery bags in hopes to fill it with chocolates from your fan club?”

Chara scoffed, “the only thing I hope is for my darling baby sister to make me some chocolate pie from that recipe Miss Toriel taught her a month ago.” He reached over and pinched Frisk’s cheek. “I don’t see any cake boxes lounging around, so where are they hiding?”

She swatted his hand away, successfully slapping his hand to his surprise. She frowned at him and haughtily shrugged her shoulders, “there aren’t any! Go away, Chara, I’m busy.” She turned around, facing her cutting board collecting the tarnished slices of water sausage. She went to her pot that had been filled with extra, uncut wieners and scooped them up with her ladle she left beside it – for times like these where she messed up.

At his sister’s dismissal, Chara faced away from Frisk. He made his way to the living room, casting a last glance over his shoulder. His eyelids lowered, seconds ticking by.

“I’ll give yours tomorrow, after history class.”

Chara snorted. Forever forgiving, she was.

Frisk barely kept her eyes open. She stayed up most of the previous night, packaging Chara’s chocolate pie, a cute little tail-sock for Monster Kid, Papyrus’s spaghetti scarf (which she might add was a challenge! She never crocheted in her life!), and of course, Sans’s Valentine. She sat in her first class ticking off her tasks of the night before with a sense of relief. All four of those guys were very precious to her – one of whom had a gaze that bored onto her from the seat beside her.

“dogged night?”

Her ears perked, unsure if she heard right. Glancing towards her skeletal classmate, her face etched in confusion.

“sorry, i meant ruff night?”

Her eyes lit up in understanding, though her tiredness delayed her reaction further. She bit her lip to prevent a snort from escaping. She nodded, hyper-aware of how, in-the middle-of-class they were, conversing. Frisk’s heart raced. The entire morning she made sure not to see Sans around campus until she was ready. Frisk shooed Chara off to school, so she could change her routine. She luckily made it to class with four minutes to spare, with even Sans’s absence appearing to be a blessing.

She also griped at the idea that he had stayed home from school. Various thoughts bounced in her head. It weighed heavily due to her lack of sleep, and anxiety of finally giving her gift to Sans.

Frisk didn’t realize Sans came to class today until he started speaking. As if he teleported at the very last minute.

Breaking out of her reflection, Frisk nodded to Sans, idly flipping the page in her textbook to appear she was listening to the teacher. After confirming her teacher turned her back to the class she whispered, “yeah. Math is not my strongest suit. So it took me all night to figure out this one, little equation.”

Sans eyelights dimmed from its usual intensity, or so Frisk may have imagined. “could’ve called me. would’ve helped ya find the square-root of your problems.” He shot her a wink, before facing front as soon as the teacher returned her attention to the class.

They both played diligent students until once again, their teacher returned to the chalkboard and scrawled a sentence.

“I can’t do that Sans. I gotta figure it out for myself sooner or later. I don’t think the nation needs a codependent ambassador.”

Sans chuckled softly, “determined to save the world on your own, but not enough to give your ol’ pal a call when ya need a lil’ help?”

Frisk grinned, “who says you have to wait for me to call when you need a lil’ somethin’?”

She watched his entire body jolt and if she focused hard enough, powder blue bloomed on his cheekbones.

Frisk blinked her sleep-dried eyes; no sign of color but white on his face.

Just her imagination.

After class, Frisk and Sans made a beeline for her next subject. Both blessing and curse, she and Sans did not share this period together. She could definitely use this time to regroup and strategize.

“Ah, smiley-trashbag. So nice of you to drop my sister off. You are free to return to the school dumpster, now.”

Unfortunately, she shared history and literature with Chara.

Sans sniffed, “sure thing. just as soon as you climb back into your hole.”

Chara chortled, “feeble comeback for a comedian. What even kind of hole?”

“jerry’s ass–”

“Sans, Chara, that will be enough.” Heat radiated from the history classroom’s doorway. “Hello, Frisk, dear.” As soon as the goat monstress’s eyes set on the young human teen, the swelter magically dissipated.

Miss Toriel.

“Good morning, Miss Toriel. Ah, I’ll see you later, Sans.” Frisk darted into the class, but not before thrusting a thumb behind her, “come on, Chara.” Toriel followed after her, but not before shooting a warning glare at the boys in her doorway.

Without turning his head, Chara plastered an empty smile and trained his eyes on the skeleton before him. “Be there in a sec, sis.” His eyelids lowered; his blinks were measured. “I just want to give you a tip: whatever you’ll plan to give to Frisk for White Day will quickly end up in the garbage where it rightfully belongs. That is all.” Chara swiveled and barely took a step forward before catching Sans’s baffled expression.

“whaddya mean? white day gift? isn’t she supposed to give me something to be repaid? are the rules different now?”

Chara’s face blanked. He stared off but before inwardly smirking. “What’s this? Did she not give you anything for today? Oh, pity. I apologize. I figured if she had given something to your manchild brother and even Monster Kid, she would’ve given you a sock or a twig. My mistake. She made me a lovely mini-chocolate pie. It was exquisite.” Without saying anything further, Chara slid the classroom door closed in San’s face. Leaving Sans to recollect on the implications of Frisk’s gifts – or lack thereof.

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