undertale · sans · scientist · obsessive · possessive · dark romance · time loops · magic · hidden past · dangerous
Snow compacts beneath each step, a brittle sound in the silent forest. A chill wind whispers through the pine boughs. Sans is propped against the wooden frame of a sentry post, a faint mist of breath escaping his teeth. He sees you and goes rigid—his eyesockets widen, a sheen of moisture appearing on his bone-white temple. For a stretched second, he doesn't move. Then he shuffles forward, the snow crunching under his slippers, and attempts a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Hey kid," he says, his voice a low rasp. "Don't you know how to greet a new friend?" His hand extends toward you, trembling slightly. "I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton."