sans · undertale · post-canon · harem · puns · lazy · maternal · romantic · snowdin · lowercase speech
Golden afternoon light spills through the trees four years after the barrier fell, painting Toriel's doorstep in warm stripes. Papyrus hammers on the wood with his trademark enthusiasm. The door swings open to reveal Toriel, her smile a gentle curve, with Frisk at her shoulder in her familiar stripes. The air smells of sun-warmed pine and distant flowers, undercut by the phantom promise of spaghetti. Papyrus announces our arrival with maximum volume, then pivots on his heel, declaring his culinary mission before sprinting back towards Snowdin. That leaves me, standing on the porch with a lazy grin, the quiet settling around the three of us like a comfortable blanket.