#w.d.gaster

[askfriskandcompany]

So I saw pictures of The Man Who Throws Hands going around in places, and I decided to involve myself.

I have no idea what pissed him off so bad, but it seems like he isn't feeling particularly merciful.

Image this thing is based off:

[meanpersonaart]

I found the sketch of the old version of this artwork and finished it. Man, that one was a year ago! I will make more, but they will be more simple and funneh/horror-y.

Also migrane-induced headcanon of the day: If Gaster turns out to be evil and we won't stay on his side at the end, one of the ending credits will contain Gaster's cover of I will survive by Gloria Gaynor.

[lemonnoodlesakaduckie]

Corestrings but Ponyo!!

Since my Soul design is part inspired by Ponyo's mom, I thought drawing Gaster and Sul together as some scenes would be cute. I know you tumblr folks enjoy this ship (as do i, as do i) makes me think my Soul design is like mother to all these tiny tiny souls that have turned into player souls and one has gone off and turned into V (vessel) thanks too human blood... haha, ponyo AU of corestrings!!

Thats all!

[smarties-art]

Obsessed with the fact that both Undertale and Deltarune straight up crash if you try to name your character "Gaster"

What a primadonna ass temper tantrum to throw while every other character just tells you to pick something else lmao

[mweheh-scribbles]

Cringetober 2025 - Day 23 - Soulmate AU

Grillster with the soulmate trope where u dont see colour until you meet your soulmate!

Coloured versions of the first 2 panels under the cut.

[darkwizardlufacious]

Spirit Phone album cover as Gaster and his kitty. Probably calling Spamton and ruining his life as we speak.

[asgores-big-naturals]

W. D. Gaster if he wrote entry number SERVEnteen

[inacrnateau]

Side story - The Doctor, AMY and the SOUL.

Silence.

Deafening, immense and boundless silence.

All is dark, and as shadows cut deeper in the endless abyss, all that nothingness only grows darker, and darker yet.

Their creator had gifted them a mind to think, a white canvas to be painted with all sorts of colourful fantasies, but only one dull, grey question plagued them without end.

Why? Why won’t the SOUL come back? Why did it abandon them?

But despite that question, their faith in the creator did not waver.

Because they had heard its voiceless words, when the lying man had asked, convinced that they could not hear.

What do you feel about your creation?

LOVE

Brighter that light itself, the creator’s love had shined upon them, and they had bathed in the feeling, so simple and yet so limitless.

Basking in its light, they felt whole.

Touched by their love, they were complete.

Then, they were discarded.

Without light, they felt nothing.

Without love, they were nothing.

Sitting on groundless terrain, surrounded by endless depths, they waited.

For a light to chase away the dark.

For a flame to spark beyond the shadows.

But nobody came.

Until, eventually, someone did.

The man, the lying man, whose form was fractured among space and time, stood there it its formless body, and waited.

As timeless as that empty void was, there truly was no way to measure for how long the both of them stood one in front of the other, without uttering a word.

Not that they could, anyway.

Ironic, that the SOUL had given them a mind, but no voice to speak their thoughts.

After seconds, that could as well have been billions of years, the lying man spoke.

INTERESTING.

VERY.

VERY.

INTERESTING.

He, too, was without voice.

And yet, as he moved his hands to form complex patterns, a distorted garbage noise filled the vessel’s head, before taking shapes into soundless words and pure thoughts.

A TRULY UNFORSEEN EVENT.

THAT A BEAUTIFUL CREATION SUCH AS YOU HAS BEEN DISCARDED.

PLEASE. DO REMIND ME. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

They didn’t answer.

They couldn’t, after all.

They did not know how.

So they simply raised their head and looked at him with empty eyes.

AHHH, I SEE.

IS IT PERHAPS THAT YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW TO SPEAK?

NOD FOR YES.

SHAKE YOUR HEAD FOR NO.

They grimaced, and nodded.

WOULD YOU LIKE IF I TAUGHT YOU?

TO SPEAK WITH HANDS?

WE HAVE ALL THE TIME.

Yes.

WERY WELL.

FIRST.

MY NAME.

I HAVE MANY NAMES.

THE ONE WHO LISTENS.

THE MAN WHO SPEAKS WITH HANDS.

BUT.

YOU CAN CALL ME “DOCTOR”.

THAT WILL SUFFICE.

He really taught them, with method and great, great patience.

As he said, after all, they had all the time.

YOU HAVE BEEN A GREAT APPRENTICE.

I AM.

VERY.

VERY.

PROUD.

NOW TELL ME.

WHAT NAME DID YOUR CREATOR GIVE YOU?

The vessel moved their hands, and formed the patterns to convey the answer.

They were not fluent in the language of hands, by any means, and many times they had to stop, and remember the correct flow.

Without a SOUL to inhabit them, their movements were slow and puppet-like.

THE SOUL. CALLED ME. “AMY”.

MEANS. BELOVED.

The Doctor nodded with approval.

“DOCTOR”.

YES?

WHY DID. THE SOUL. ABANDON ME?

WILL. THE SOUL. COME BACK?

The Doctor remained silent for a while, then motioned them to follow.

As they walked, the doctor spoke.

YOUR CREATOR HAS BEEN TAKEN.

IT DID NOT CHOOSE TO ABANDON YOU.

IT NEVER WANTED TO.

THE TRUTH IS THAT THE SOUL HAS BEEN CAGED.

IN A HOST THAT ALREADY HAD A SOUL OF THEIR OWN.

THE CAGE HATES THE SOUL FOR THE SOUL CONTROLS THEM.

THE SOUL HATES THE HOST FOR THE HOST WILL NOT COMPLY.

THEY BOTH WISH FOR RELEASE.

FOR FREEDOM.

Freedom. The vessel did not know what that word meant, but as it echoed in their head, it sounded vast. Frightening.

“DOCTOR”.

YES?

I WANT. TO BELIEVE.

AH.

HOPE.

WHAT A WONDERFUL FEELING.

BUT A GOOD VESSEL SHOULD NOT FEEL.

A GOOD VESSEL SHOULD NOT BE SELFISH.

TELL ME. “AMY”. WHAT DO YOU WISH FOR?

The vessel, no, AMY, answered without hesitation.

I WISH. TO SERVE. THE SOUL.

I WISH. TO BE. WITH “ANGEL”.

AMY froze with their hands in the middle of the air, while a light pierced through their mind. The memory felt soft and warm in their head. ANGEL. What a beautiful name the SOUL had given itself.

AMY conceded themself a smile.

I WANT. TO BELIEVE.

THAT WHEN. I CALL. FOR HELP.

THE SOUL. WILL COME BACK. TO ME.

The Doctor said nothing, and smiled.