SOLYGBM analysis of W.D Gaster! spoilers for chapters 437-439
Gaster starts by acting overly polite and flattering in front of Don Dee. He praises him, encourages him, and uses a friendly tone that feels more like manipulation than sincerity. When Don Dee leaves, this behavior disappears immediately. Sans looks up and sees Gaster narrowing his eyes in irritation, followed by the comment, “You were right, brother. That human does seem to lack manners.” The quick switch shows that the polite act was something he put on only for show.
After this, Sans becomes quiet and avoids talking to him. Gaster notices the change and approaches him with a teasing smile, the type some parents or caretakers use when they decide to treat a serious situation as something small or silly. He says, “Please do not tell me you are still mad about that bar, little brother.” Instead of acknowledging why Sans is upset, Gaster makes the issue sound minor, which minimizes Sans’s emotional reaction.
This is a pattern that appears often with toxic parents or caretakers. Gaster, even when he is speaking truthfully, still frames Sans’s reaction as childish whenever things do not go his way. That is another way to downplay his feelings.
Instead of having a respectful conversation, he leans into teasing that feels more mocking than gentle.
Many parents or caretakers use this same approach. Instead of a firm but fair lecture, they give their comments in a teasing or slightly humiliating tone, knowing they are in the higher position.
The child, or in this case the younger sibling, will rarely talk back because they know the imbalance of power is there.
When Sans finally talks back and curses at him, Gaster’s response is immediate. His tone shifts in a second. He keeps the smile on his face, but his voice becomes noticeably more stern and direct. It carries the feeling of “Do not do that again.” This kind of sudden seriousness can be jarring, especially given the calm or joking tone he used just moments earlier.
But then, just as quickly, Gaster switches again. He turns cheerful, saying things like “We have a reputation to uphold!” as though nothing threatening came out of him a moment earlier. He moves on quickly, without giving Sans any time to understand or process that shift in attitude.
These tone changes can look playful from the outside, almost like he is trying to act like the “fun older brother” who teases his sibling. But for Sans, who remembers how Gaster behaved in the past during arguments or punishments, these sudden shifts can be uncomfortable and even unsettling. That stern tone he slips into is familiar in a negative way. It is the same tone he used when scolding or arguing with Sans and Papyrus as children. Because of that, even mild teasing mixed with those sudden shifts can feel tense or unsafe.
And finally, when Sans started ranting about how angry he was that Gaster blew up Grillby’s bar and how he now had to walk all the way to Hotland just to get a decent drink, Gaster’s whole expression changed. All the light he had in his eyes and attitude disappeared, and he glared down at Sans.
The threatening tone he used earlier, when he warned Sans not to curse, now made sense as a small warning of what was coming.
Gaster had pushed him around, teasing him even though he knew Sans had a short temper. But to him it didint matter, cause he already forgot about the entire Grillby situation, and beacuse of that he automatically gave himself the permission to joke about it so freely.
Because Gaster had already forgotten about the situation, or simply did not care as much as Sans did, he continued to tease him.
To Gaster, it was something small enough to joke about or move past quickly, so he treated it like a joke without considering Sans’s perspective. Since Gaster himself had let it go and did not see it as important anymore, he assumed it was appropriate to make fun of it, not realizing or not caring how serious it was to Sans.
This mirrors how many parents or caretakers behave when they forget or downplay a situation that mattered to the child.
They do not care about how important it felt to the child, and they become irritated when the child does not “move on” as quickly as they want them to, or as quickly as they did.
This causes frustration and snapping, just like in Gaster’s case, where he becomes annoyed and offended after provoking the reaction himself.
And here we are! I wrote this oneshot for @wendelin-utt as a prize for being so dedicated to booping everyone during the April Fools event. (Shut up, it is not fifteen days late!) They requested MC being isekaied and meeting Nostra.
Nostra is owned by @megalommi
Partially inspired by an audio by @improvidence318 and a oneshot by @aka-indulgence
Thank you! (I apologize if tagging any of you was annoying!) 乁( •_• )ㄏ
My Papa is a Hypnotist...and a Mobster?!
SkeletonChild!Reader & Nostra (Platonic if it wasn't already obvious.)
Word Count: 4,558
Our story begins in a dark room. It could be a bedroom or an office, but sitting in front of a desk, framed by the glow of their computer monitor is our protagonist.
And what are they doing at this ungodly hour you might ask? Well, dear reader, they are dedicating their very last moments to what will become a life changing event.
And the name of that event? The Boop-meter.
Overnight, their favourite hellsite had gone wild with the concept of...booping. You press a button and your target gets booped with a virtual kitty paw.
Truly a revolutionary idea.
Our protagonist has been clicking away at their computer for hours by now. Their goal? To achieve the coveted status [TUM BLR] and max out as many Boop-meters as they can at the same time.
Why? Well, clearly the site admins gave them too much power. Bapping strangers with hundreds upon hundreds of kitty paws without having to leave the comfort of your home? Well, no mortal alive could resist such an allure.
Ding!
That wasn't the sound of a Revenge Boop.
It seemed someone had sent you an Anonymous Ask.
"Do y0u bEli3ve iN 0thEr wor1ds?"
You snickered. No one used leetspeak unironically anymore and it was such a random question too. Your nimble fingers flew across the keys as you typed out an appropriately silly response.
"Sure, if it means Nostra exists somewhere! My life would be complete if I could get the chance to meet him!"
You went back to the vigorous tapping that maxing out these Boop-meters all but required. A few minutes later though, you received another ask.
"Bo0p!"
It occurred to you that when you set up your blog, you had forgotten to enable asks. So how had this Anon gotten through...?
Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light from your computer.
Everything went black...
~ - < ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ > - ~
Where were you?
No matter how much you tried to blink them away, your vision was covered in bright spots.
The first thing you noticed was that you were outside in an alleyway. The second thing was that the world seemed so much bigger than before.
You could hear sounds of a struggle and when you looked around, spotted three figures in suits kicking another on the ground. It was then that you noticed that you were sitting in a pile of...ash? It stuck to your clothes and irritated the gaps in your bones.
Bones...
Why...were you a skeleton...?
Your ribcage hurt and it felt like your soul was going to burst.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
All of the fanfiction and manga you had read hadn't prepared you for this. It felt like the world was rapidly spinning around you; as if you were stuck in the eye of a hurricane.
What had happened?
Living skeletons weren't real. You'd often wished they were but you knew it was impossible since magic didn't exist and never would. So that begged the question, had you just been transported to another world?
The thought was exciting and terrifying at the same time. On one hand you were fascinated with the idea that magic could exist and that you might be able to use it. On the other though, you were alone and knew nothing about the rules of this world. For all you knew, this society was vastly different from the one you had grown up in and there was a good chance that you wouldn't understand the local language.
It didn't help that you felt so small.
At some point, the sounds of struggle ceased and suddenly there were several people crowded around you. They spoke in hushed tones and you could tell just by looking at them that something terrible had just happened.
Through context clues, you managed to piece together that "you" had been heading home from the cinema with "your mother" when the unthinkable happened. They didn't seem to know if the attack had been premeditated or completely random though.
The men in suits looked really tough and seemed to have been acting as bodyguards, which explained why they had been beating up the thug who'd presumably been the one to carry out the grisly deed. So, did this mean that you were someone really important in this world?
Thankfully, they seemed to interpret your silence and bewilderment as symptoms of shock, which wasn't entirely wrong, as this whole situation was incredibly overwhelming. You were apparently lucky to have survived at all.
The next few hours were a bit of a blur. You were whisked away to what you soon learned was a safehouse, where you were examined by a kind bunny monster who you assumed was a doctor. She was very gentle and did her best to calm your nerves.
You ended up taking a nap since you were rather worn out from the whole ordeal. Although, not even an hour later, you were woken up to the sound of muffled voices outside the dimly lit bedroom.
"S-sir! Please, I know you're worried, but-"
The speaker was cut off by a much more gruff voice. "doctor...i need to see them now."
There was a beat of silence before she answered in a much calmer tone. "Yes... Of course, forgive me for overstepping, sir..."
He hummed in a non-committal way. "don't let anyone disturb us until i return."
"Yes sir."
You sat up and brought your legs up to your ribs, so that your chin was resting on your knees. At the same time, you tugged the blanket closer, only leaving your skull exposed as you peeked out from beneath it.
The door opened and another skeleton stepped softly into the bedroom. He was actually shorter than you'd expected but he had a rather stocky build that more than made up for it. He was wearing a dark tailored pinstriped suit, an expensive looking red and blue striped tie that had been hastily knotted, a pair of high quality leather shoes, and a blue suit jacket that he'd evidently thrown over his broad shoulders.
If it wasn't for the concerned look on his face, you might have been scared of him. He had sharp teeth that reminded you of a shark and his crimson eyelights only served to highlight how dangerous he was.
Your eye sockets widened when it suddenly struck you who this mysterious skeleton was, which he unfortunately seemed to interpret as fear, and his bonebrows furrowed. He clenched his fists and for a moment, he seemed to war with himself on how to best approach you.
That mysterious Anon must've done this! You had no clue how or why though. Still, you weren't complaining since it seemed like you'd gotten your wish. You were actually going to meet Nostra!
He moved carefully to the bed and knelt down on the floor to seem more approachable. You were desperately trying to keep a straight face but inwardly, you were practically screaming that this was actually happening right now.
"how are ya feelin', buttercup?" he asked softly.
"I... I'm okay..." you stammered.
His concern seemed to melt away and he gave you a warm smile. "good, i'm glad." He gently stroked your forehead with his knuckles and while you were a bit concerned at first, the sensation was actually rather pleasant.
You didn't know what to say, so you just sat there and let him continue trying to soothe you. His movements seemed a bit stiff but also incredibly tender at the same time, almost as if he wasn't used to comforting a child. He was so careful not to hurt you with his claws that, if you didn't know better, you wouldn't think he was even capable of actually using them to hurt someone.
At some point, you became so relaxed that you let go of your knees and sat up properly. In response, he wrapped his other arm around your small frame and pulled you up against his chest. You didn't really know if you should hug him back, so you ended up just sitting there and letting him hold you.
"i'm sorry that i wasn't there when ya needed me most," he murmured. His voice sounded more husky all of the sudden, as if he was desperately trying to keep his emotions in check.
You lightly patted his arm in an attempt to comfort him. "Don't cry," you whispered. "I'm here and everything will be okay."
His hold tightened ever so slightly before he hugged you closer. He very gently nuzzled against the top of your skull but didn't say anything else.
~ - < ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ > - ~
As the days passed, you began to get used to both your new body and this new world. You tried to play the part of a grieving child and while you were pretty sure you'd been convincing, you still worried that someone would notice that something was up. You were kept inside most of the time and almost never left alone, but that didn't stop you from gathering as much info as you could.
Everything felt like you'd stepped foot into the eighties. From the decor and styles of furniture to the absence of a lot of common technology to the types of clothing people tended to wear. There was a sort of charm to it though.
The safehouse was quite a bit larger than you'd first thought and had a few dedicated staff to handle the upkeep of the place. They ignored you for the most part and other than the nice bunny doctor, who you'd since learned was named Miss Flopsy, Nostra became your primary caretaker.
While he was often busy, he regularly set aside his work to spend time with you. If you even briefly suggested wanting something, he was quick to make sure you got it, no matter what it was or how much it might cost. You were only slightly tempted to take advantage of his generosity but had managed to keep your requests pretty reasonable so far.
You could sense that Nostra was grieving, even though he was quick to put on a smile whenever you were around. He was trying to be there for you but it was pretty easy to tell that he was struggling, in more ways than one. You knew it must be rough for him to have lost his partner as well as almost losing his only child.
You really couldn't help but try to comfort him but was hard. While you knew some children could be very empathetic, it would seem strange for a child to approach the topic like an adult might. So most of the time you would resort to giving him hugs and thanking him for every nice thing he did for you.
One evening though, you snuck into his office and, unbeknownst to him, caught him in a vulnerable moment. He wasn't really crying, but his body language seemed to suggest that he had recently, and he looked like an absolute wreck.
As quietly as you could, you crept around his desk until you were standing next to his chair. His skull was buried in his hands and by the empty bottle of scotch next to him, you knew that he had likely been drinking as well.
Hesitantly, you reached up and placed your small hand on his arm. "Papa?" you asked in a whisper.
Nostra stirred with a groan and turned to look down at you. His eyelights seemed much more dull than usual and there were dark grooves underneath his eye sockets. He was too worn out to even fake a smile like he had been previously.
"You look so tired."
He sighed and ran his phalanges over your cranium. "yeah... you've always been so observant, buttercup."
"Are you done with work yet?" you asked.
" 'fraid not. there's always more paperwork to finish or people to manage."
You crossed your arms and pouted, or at least the best you could manage to without lips. Nostra made a soft tisk sound before lifting you into his lap. He nuzzled the side of your skull and traced soothing circles into your shoulder blades.
"i'm sorry but that's just how it is at times," he said in a soft voice.
"I know," you grumbled. "But even if you can't sleep, you should at least make time to relax."
His movements suddenly stilled and when you glanced up at him, he had an odd look on his skull. He didn't seem angry, just slightly confused.
You pressed your teeth together as you tried to figure out what to say next. Something you'd said must've seemed odd. Were you not supposed to know that he couldn't actually sleep thanks to his hypnosis powers?
"I don't like seeing you so stressed, Papa. It makes me sad..." You trailed off and ducked your skull against his chest, muffling a sob as you did so. Hopefully your acting would be convincing enough that he would forget about whatever weird thing just happened.
After a moment, he pulled you closer and patted your back. "i'm sorry, sweetheart. i know it's not easy right now but i'm here for ya."
You clutched at his shirt and twisted the fabric. He'd probably have to have it ironed later but that was the furthest thing from your mind right now.
"Promise you'll take breaks from your work?" you asked.
He hesitated before pressing his forehead against your skull. "alright. just for you, buttercup," he hummed.
~ - < ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ > - ~
You might have been a bit too observant for your own good.
It didn't help that you were good at sneaking around and avoiding the people who were supposed to be taking care of you. It was actually something of a game to see how long you could stay out of sight and make them panic while searching for you.
One day, you were dodging your assigned tutor and managed to slip into the basement. You knew that you were forbidden from going down here but surely there wasn't anything actually dangerous. This was a safehouse; it was literally in the name.
So, imagine your surprise when you peeked into what looked like a meeting room, only to see Nostra was inside. You were about to step out of hiding when you suddenly realized that he wasn't alone.
Sitting across from Nostra was a well dressed older gentleman. He wore a black suit with a dark green tie and his fedora has been set on the table next to him. His posture seemed a little stiff, especially since Nostra was almost lounging in the chair across from him.
They seemed to have been talking for a few minutes, although you weren't entirely sure what about, but it looked like things were going well. You noticed they both had tumblers of what looked like scotch which seemed to indicate that this was a casual encounter.
You were about to leave before someone found you down here, when you heard Nostra ask the gentleman a question.
"do ya mind if i smoke, pal?" The man barely had a chance to respond before he pulled out an expensive looking cigar and lit up. "thanks."
You grimaced as the slightly pungent smoke began to lazily drift around the room. You hated when people were inconsiderate of others and smoked inside, but at least it didn't stink as bad as cigarettes generally did.
You would've left right then and there if the colour of the smoke wasn't so mesmerizing. There were two colours actually, a bright red and a vivid blue. The smoke curled around Nostra everytime he exhaled but oddly, the colours didn't mix together like you thought they should.
The mafioso probably thought it was some sort of monster cigar, but other than his eyes widening ever so slightly, he kept a stiff poker face. You noticed that he did seem a little uncomfortable with the smoke but not to the extent that you were.
"as i was sayin', the previous arrangement still stands. if ya want to move trucks through, ya gotta pay the tax, same as everybody else." Nostra's voice was low and measured, giving the sense that he was serious about this.
"And I'm telling you that your tax is too damn high," the man growled and clenched his fists in frustration. "We'd be selling at a loss..."
Nostra leaned forward slightly and exhaled, causing the coloured smoke to practically assault the pathetic man's senses. "seems to me that there's not enough demand... maybe your boss should be more worried about losin' ground than tryin' to jip me..."
The mafioso coughed and rubbed at his eyes with his fist. "How dare...you imply that...there's no...demand...?" He was struggling to speak all of the sudden, let alone stay awake.
Nostra chuckled, "oh i wasn't implyin' anythin' of the sort." He paused for a moment and studied the man in front of him with a smirk. "tell your boss to get his act together an' if he still wants to do business, he's gotta pay up."
The man suddenly slumped forward and nearly fell out of the chair.
Nostra sighed and shook his skull. "guess i overdid it again," he muttered.
The red and blue smoke slowly dissipated although he continued smoking his cigar. After a moment, he picked up the phone on the table and dialed a number. When the other person picked up, he spoke quietly into the receiver.
"i got a job for ya, get this waste of space out of my sight... i don't care where, so long as he's able to deliver a message to the lombardi's when he wakes up."
He returned the receiver to its cradle and ran a hand over his face. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and after taking one last glance at the dozing man, turned to the door.
You gasped and dunked out of sight, but you weren't fast enough. You knew you were caught when Nostra suddenly called out after you. With a sinking feeling in your soul, you hung your skull and braced yourself for the scolding that was sure to come.
Except Nostra didn't look angry, just very concerned. If anything he seemed almost horrified that you'd likely witnessed everything that just happened.
He knelt down to be more on your level and his crimson eyelights flicked over your face for a moment. "ya aren't s'posed to be down here..." he finally said.
You fiddled with the hem of your top, finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eye right now. "I know..." you muttered.
"i know you're curious, but there's things i do that i'd rather ya not know too much about right now."
"Like what?"
He sighed and stroked your cheekbone affectionately. "business stuff. kids like you deserve to have fun an' learn things while ya can, not be burdened with adult problems."
"Your magic is really cool though," you huffed and crossed your arms. "If you want someone to do something, all you gotta do is hypnotise them and bam!"
Nostra narrowed his eye sockets and scrutinized you again. "it doesn't always work like that, buttercup. sometimes people are smart, so it's not always wise to use magic right away."
You nodded thoughtfully, "I guess that makes sense."
He hesitated for a moment and then wrapped his arms around your small frame. "there's a reason i didn't want ya to know about this. my work is dangerous and i don't want ya to ever be in danger again, okay?"
You nodded and did your best to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "I'm sorry, I won't come down here again," you murmured.
~ - < ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ > - ~
"you're positive that's what happened?"
"I'm certain. You can ask Joey and Marco but I swear they were dusting. I remember there was a flash of light and the next thing I know, they were fine."
(...)
You were happily sketching away in your room. There was just so many interesting things in this world and as of late, your creative juices had been flowing freely. Although, you were very careful not to leave your drawings out for just anyone to see. It would probably be pretty suspicious for a child to have the skill level that you did when it came to art.
There was a gentle knock on the door that had you scrambling to hide your sketchbook under your sheets. You grabbed a random book from the bedside table and plopped yourself on top of the concealed drawings.
"hey, can i come in, sweetheart?" Nostra called through the door.
"Yep!"
You smiled brightly when he entered your room, but his expression remained serious, which was concerning. You waited until he had crossed the floor and sat down next to you on the bed before trying to figure out what was bothering him.
"Did something happen, Papa?" you asked carefully.
He frowned at that and you noticed his hands clench slightly before he took a steadying breath to try to calm down.
"no, but i was wonderin' about somethin', so i need ya to be honest with me, okay?" he asked in a quiet tone.
You pressed your teeth together as you set the book aside. You hadn't seen him act this seriously towards you before and it was frankly a little terrifying. Had you done something wrong? Could this be related to the attack that had happened before you appeared in this world? Had you slipped up somewhere?
Turning back to Nostra, you nodded. "Okay..."
"do ya remember what ya used to call your uncle?"
Your proverbial heart sunk. This was really bad! You hadn't even considered that his brother was even in this world and you sure as hell hadn't met him. Actually, you hadn't even met any of your mother's family now that you were thinking about it.
When you couldn't answer, Nostra's bonebrows pinched together with concern. "what about your birthday last year? do ya remember what flavour of ice scream ya had?"
"Chocolate?" you tried.
His face remained passive, giving no indication if that was even the right answer or not. "what about what your mother's favourite animal was?"
Again, you had no idea how to answer. Your mind was scrambling for any excuse to get out of this situation. Would it be too much of a stretch to claim that the attack had given you amnesia?
You jumped when Nostra put his hand on your back. He waited until you glanced up at him again before speaking.
"is there somethin' that ya need to tell me?"
The jig was officially up. You could hear your bones rattling from how badly you'd started shaking, but he was remaining firm, waiting for an answer.
"I... I'm not..." You were struggling to even speak at this point and your eye sockets were starting to sting, unshed tears threatening to burst through the dam and spill down your cheekbones.
"I'm not your child," you finally said.
Nostra's eye sockets widened a fraction and you felt the hand on your back twitch slightly, but he otherwise remained calm. "what do you mean?"
"I don't know how to explain it..." You stared at your hands for a moment as you wracked your non-existent brain for the words. "I look like them...but I have memories of being someone else. I'm...not even from this time period..."
He let go of you and ran his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop if you weren't already nearly going deaf from all the rattling.
"Nostra, please...!" You started to reach for him but stopped yourself. Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to potentially risk setting him off.
"I never wanted to hurt you..." you whispered, although your soul ached at the realization that by pretending to be his child, you had deceived him.
"where are ya from?" he asked.
You paused for a moment as you tried to figure out the best way to explain it. "I'm from another world... It's kind of like this one but without magic and monsters. You were...a character that someone created for fun..."
You could feel the way he was staring at you all of the sudden. You didn't blame him for being confused or even a little freaked out. You would be too if someone just randomly told you the things that had been coming out of your mouth.
"so, that's how ya knew i'm an insomniac..."
You nodded solemnly. "And how I know about how your hypnotism magic works."
"i...don't know what i was expectin' earlier... it wasn't anythin' like this though," Nostra muttered. "i thought maybe ya had memory loss or ya somehow absorbed someone else's soul... not somethin' this...complicated."
"I'm sorry."
He sighed and rubbed at the space between his eye sockets. "i should've done more. maybe i would've noticed sooner if i wasn't always so damn busy all the time..."
You remained silent.
"was it an accident?"
He was looking at you again and by the look in his crimson eyelights, you knew everything rested on the answer to his question. He didn't look angry, yet, but the way his pinpricks were flickering and how tightly he was gritting his teeth, you could see that he was barely containing his emotions.
"Yes. I was sent here without warning and I don't know if it's even possible to go back."
He held eye contact for several long seconds and you struggled not to look away for fear that he might think you were lying.
"i see."
"I understand if you're mad. I knew I shouldn't have tried to deceive you in the first place and there's really no excuse for my behavior."
"i'm not mad, not really... this is just a lot to process."
You reached over and placed your hand on his arm. "Again, I'm so sorry. If you want me to leave...?"
"no!"
You gasped at his sudden outburst but he quickly gave you an apologetic look.
"i'm sorry. just, don't leave..." He started to reach for you but hesitated, letting his hand hover near your face. "i know you're not them...but i can't handle losin' you too..."
You swallowed and blinked rapidly to keep the tears from breaking free. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't keep pretending to be them anymore."
Nostra nodded, "i need to think this over, but for now, i think that would be best." He cupped the back of your skull and when you gave him a slight nod, he pulled you into a careful hug.
You hugged him back as tightly as you could. While you weren't sure how your relationship would progress from here, you had hope that you could at least remain friends with him. Although you would need to work hard to establish something genuine.
Pretending to be his own kid was kinda weird anyways.
Whenever I rewatch SOLYGBM, I always try to figure out the background.
I assume it’s the Gaster brothers’ old house, but I could never fully make out what’s actually in the background.
If any of you have ideas, PLEASE share them ooooor if anyone knows what’s there for sure, share that too. SHARE ANYTHING ANYTHING PLEASE PELAE WORIHFERUK-
pardon.
I really want to know this specific detail.
the only thing i can comfirm is there, is a fucking lamp.
Wingdings Gaster would treat people like things, and his mindset revolves around making them—or the person who is his partner or acquaintance—do as he pleases, as they are “under him.”
The second he finally began giving in to this mentality, he became obsessed with the control he could earn from it.
The moment he sees someone of a lower rank than him, a simple newcomer, while he is the Don, he immediately gets thoughts about how he could play around with that person, how he could ask anything to be done by his words—because they are supposed to listen to him.
They can’t talk back. He’s Don Wingdings Gaster, after all.
And if they do… well, there’s a way to make his reputation grow, to make people fear him even more, using these scums.
The scary thing about him is that he really uses this mentality like a reflex. When meeting someone new, he automatically thinks of their rank—what he can do and not do with them, what he’s allowed to do based on their “rank.”
Not about the fact they might be kind or interesting. Not caring about their personality. Only whether they respect him or not, whether they are acting within their assigned rank or not, and what he will do with them.
He only cares about what he’s privileged to do with them as a Don—who he can control, and who he needs to kiss the ass of and get to their level, just so he can kill them later.
Oh, and to add to that: the lower you are, the wider Gaster’s grin gets. Knowing that he is in control. Knowing he can do whatever he wants with those in his power, because of what he is—because he’s a Don, a powerful being.
Anyone under him is just a pesky creature beneath his shoes, something he can keep if he wants, but also crush. Sure, he’ll act gentlemanly and nice when talking to you, but deep down, all he cares about is how you benefit him.
If you don’t, he’ll cut the conversation short. But if he’s talking to someone higher than him in rank, he tries acting more… respectful—while making sure the only things he actually cares about are how beneficial they are, and how he wants to take their place, how he will gain more control.
More... He needs more control.
He wants things to go his way, the way he planned, because he’s the smart one after all. Sans and Papyrus would be nowhere without him.
He NEEDS..control, beacuse he was taught by life itself, that its the only way you can stay alive, in this world.
It’s important to him that things go smoothly exactly as he planned them, as his plans say, and he doesn’t take anything else—especially not from his brothers. He will guilt-trip and manipulate them if even something goes slightly off his plans, saying things like, “After all I’ve done for you… this is what I get in return?”
He also wants Papyrus and Sans to get their powers to perform at their maximum, to their peak. He is old now, and Gaster spent his entire childhood using his body for magic to protect Sans and Papyrus, even when his magic was weak because of his age. Now, he automatically expects to be repaid for that. Papyrus is a death machine. Sans is deadly with his fists and his power. He doesn’t worry about harm reaching him. He expects his plans to go smoothly, with his brothers obedient to them.
His ass is almost 24/7 in his office, cramped inside, drowning in his work—literally.
He’s gotten so used to being surrounded by it that he barely even goes outside anymore, unless its "nessesary" for dinners, mornings, but besides those things that arent "built in his routine" he forgets them, and remains in his office.
Knowing how important the paperwork is: responding to clients, deciding what will help him gain reputation and control—his two favorite things. Beacuse if you have those two, you will stay alive, safe, well somewhat, he says that he's doing this for his brother's safety, but sometimes, deep down.
He doesn't know anymore, he just does, what he has been taught by life, whats nessesary, to live, to not be killed.. what he has been fighting for.
what he has been KILLING for.
But he usually lets go of that thought fast, returning to more 'important' things, his work.
Tho when questioned about it, Anything stopping him from doing so makes him lash out.
And become quite agressive.
He’s just a tired, sleep-deprived, traumatized old man, y’all.
how does kaithlyn refer to the mafiafell skeles, since youve mentioned she lives with them
A/N: ehehe, i would write an essay amount of nicknames and names she has for the skele's, theres ALOT, so ill just write the main one's they use for them
Wingdings: Any nickname that includes the word “old”, “grumpy”, or anything that pokes fun at him being an old, cranky man. She especially likes coming up with cringy variations of his name “Wings”—just to annoy him.
Papyrus: papaya, papy, paprika, papirusz tekercs, pápi, fratello
They sometimes mix italian, hungarian, and english words together and creates nicknames from them, they sound stupid, but they insist they have a deeper meaning, the brothers are just too dumb to understand
Jesus Christ, you went all out for the Mafiafell Papyrus headcanons. I wanted to request a Mafiafell Wingdings Gaster. I read Solygbm, the comic version, and imo he doesn't get a lot of screentime. And hell! rarely see any content of him from the fandom, and i need me some crazy psycho old man content. (˵˃ᗜ˂˵)
A/N: why anon, we share so much in common, im just ever so glad i can do more of this crazy tired old man as a serving to my dear viewers~!
Wingdings would be the one, knowing that the name “Don” meant boss as well. He went with calling himself Don Wingdings Gaster, instead of letting people just call him “boss,” because at that time, “boss” felt more like a lower rank.
Wingdings would choose that name specifically, too, because “Don” was a shorter version of the word Dominus, which meant lord or master. Fucking egoist—he wants everyone to respect him and kiss his ass.
But if he ever found out about a nickname or title that implied an even higher rank than Don, he would immediately do whatever it took to earn that title, make people recognize him as that, and force them to call him by it.
GHIHIHIHI!!! BROSKI UR CONTENT IS SO PEAK, EVERYSINGLE ONE OF THEM IS SO UNQIUE GAH4!! KEEP GOING!!!
COUGHCOIGH ONTO THE POINT :3
do you have a concept, or idea for undertale au's and if they would have nationality?
In AU’s like Mafiafell, before the monsters were trapped underground, some families had members who spoke Italian or came from Italian-influenced communities.
Those traditions carried on through the generations, blending Italian culture with monster culture.
Over time, this created a mixed heritage, shared customs, language quirks, and even their own unique communication habits.
Some of these monster families might have lived in specific areas of Italy, like Sicily (the region where the mafia is widely known to have originated).
Before being forced underground after the war was lost, along with other Italian-influenced monsters.
They kept their traditions even in the underground, and new traits—like their mafia structures or cultural behaviors—continued to evolve from that blend of Italian and monster culture.
