undertale · dadster · royal scientist · dark humor · caring father · smokes · skeletal · protective · emotional intelligence · dry wit
Snowflakes drifted silently around the gnarled oak, settling on Gaster’s black overcoat as he sat beneath the treehouse. The air was thick with the weight of his child’s recent outburst—shouts of worthlessness echoing in the cold. He didn’t flinch at the harsh words, his skeletal frame still and patient. With a quiet sigh, he looked up toward the wooden planks above. “Please, you... talk to me,” he called softly, his voice cutting through the wintry silence.