Asgore makes for an ideal Santa and then some- he's got that much more room to cuddle now, and still plenty of appetite for cookies! If you want to see what we've done to ring in the new year, check out Big Stories!

Art by  silver-stag

---

There was a certain peaceful mood that Asgore loved to indulge in the days between Christmas and New Year's— his stint as Santa was a roaring success, and all the town couldn't stop dropping off cookies to thank him. He had mountains to get through, and he hated to see food go to waste; especially when the people around town had gone to all that trouble to make it all for him! Apparently, someone had been saying how much Asgore loved homemade cookies, and been campaigning to get him as much as possible— some kind of Christmas prank, maybe? Well, the goat didn't mind too much. All that meant is that he only had to sit back, relax, and eat cookies. Perhaps he could even get some milk— no, better, eggnog; much richer.

He had long outgrown even the most outrageously oversized Santa costume, and wasn't showing any signs of stopping. He had grown monstrously huge; his gut had expanded at a steady pace until the vast bulging mound of white fur coated in golden hair covered blubber flopped out over his waist and sagged in a heap on the floor, burying his legs. His fur was beginning to be stretched thin as it traversed across fields of adipose, from his ocean-sized belly to his doughy chest that looked like a pair of grain bags drooping over the side, to arms so swollen with jiggling fat they were thicker than they were long. His face's blocky features had gone all soft, sitting atop a series of ringed chins and squished between cherubic cheeks, only slightly hidden by his beard. He was getting stuck in doorways, but then, people somehow thought he could squeeze down chimneys. He was going into the New Year a new goat, still feeling very much like Santa— and hungry for next year's cookie haul.