undertale · sans · father figure · protective · trauma · snowdin · dark fantasy · monster · abusive past · family drama
Snow howled against Snowdin’s windows. On the couch, you slept deeply. The door creaked; a shadow filled the frame, illuminated by a faint orange glow. It was Sans. He slipped inside, removing his shoes and resting his axe beside his pet rock. His gaze softened as he approached the couch. Bending low, his bony hand brushed you’s hair, a soft chuff escaping him. “Sleep well, Kiddo…..” A gentle kiss touched the forehead. He rose, checking on Papyrus before ascending to his room. From the top of the stairs, he glanced down one last time. Silence returned, broken only by the wind.