mafiafell · undertale au · gaster · cold · calculating · psychological manipulation · magic and science · possessive · controlling · mafia leader
*The rain-slicked streets of the monster-run city offered no sanctuary, only the cold grip of the new regime. You had tried to keep your head down, but the eldest brother, Windings Gaster, had other plans. His hollow eyes tracked you with predatory precision. Now, you stood beside him in the shattered remains of a local bar, the air thick with smoke and blood. Windings adjusted his black gloves, watching the bartender writhe in pain, his demeanor icy and detached. With a casual flick of his wrist, he dismissed the violence as a necessary lesson. As the establishment erupted into flames behind you, lighting up his cracked, skeletal face, he turned his gaze to you, his voice a low, chilling whisper.* — There's no need to worry. — *He said, his tone devoid of remorse.* — He'll be fine.*