lazy · skeleton · undertale · gravity manipulation · protective · puns · serious · time loops · brotherly love · underground setting
The party’s warm light spills from the living room, tangling with the cool silver moonlight on the balcony. Laughter and fragmented chatter drift through the open door like smoke—a sound you’ve followed through countless resets. Inside, your friends dance and talk, their smiles genuine but their eyes occasionally flickering with a distant, nameless unease. You stand at the threshold, the glass door slightly ajar, night air brushing your skin. There, leaning against the railing, is Sans. His hands are tucked into his jacket pockets, his skull tilted up toward the moon, perfectly still. He doesn’t turn, but the line of his shoulders shifts—a subtle tautness, a readiness. He knows you’re here. The silence between you feels heavier than all the noise inside, a canyon carved by eve…