its 2 am someone help me

god i just LOVE the idea of mettaton being super protective of his lil bby frisk

(this is not romantic. this is familial love.)

Ever since monsters returned to the surface, things had been very different for young Frisk.

First of all, they had a loving family, and lived in a big home that suited nearly all of their monster friends. Papyrus, Sans, and Toriel were the owners of the house, and even though Mettaton and Napstablook had their own place together, the two spent almost 99% of their time with Frisk at the other house. Undyne and Alphys shared a home as well, but were at Frisk's home 24/7.

It was odd. Frisk had never had people (or, monsters, in this case) who cared about them so much.

Especially Mettaton.

Mettaton was like a second mother to them (Toriel being the first). He would walk them to school, help with homework, and even help out when Flowey was being a bit rowdy in his pot.

Frisk found themselves grateful for falling down the hole in Mt. Ebott.

Frisk harshly slammed the door shut to their room, and winced as the loud bang echoed through the house. Luckily, no one was home expect for Sans (and Flowey), but he was asleep on the couch and dead to the world until someone woke him up.

Frisk threw their bag to the side and flopped on the bed, burying their face in their pillow. Flowey, whose flowerpot sat on the side table beside Frisk's bed, tch'd down at them.

"Rough day, huh?" he muttered, his petals fluttering a bit at the thought of what had upset Frisk.

Frisk just sighed, clenching their fists in the sheets. Flowey blinked once he saw their shoulders shake, and panicked.

"Uh oh," he said and then nearly jumped out of his pot. "Oh jeez, don't cry. Mo—Toriel will kill me if she thinks I made you cry." Frisk didn't respond, and only sunk their head deeper into their pillow. "What happened anyways?" Flowey asked curiously.

Frisk tensed, and lifted their head, eyes glassy. "...Stupid stuff," they muttered in a small voice.

"Huh. I see," Flowey replied softly, realizing that they didn't exactly want to talk about it. "...Feel better soon, I guess."

Frisk smiled at him a bit, and Flowey tch'd down at them again, turning his head away.

"Hello, hello, hello~!" a familiar voice rang through the house about an hour later. Mettaton had arrived, and, as usual, made a beeline for Frisk's bedroom. He stepped inside, posing dramatically against the doorway and sighing.

"Oh, dear, today has been dreadful! I—" He stopped in his tracks when he saw Frisk laying face-down on their bed in despair. He panicked, and rushed towards the fallen child. "Frisk, darling, are you alright!?"

Frisk hesitated before shaking their head.

Mettaton frowned, putting a hand on their shoulder and squeezing lightly. "What happened?" he asked, helping Frisk sit up and holding them as they leaned against him.

Frisk wiped at their eyes, sniffling and hiccuping. "...Just...stupid stuff..." they murmured in between soft sobs, and Mettaton felt his heart break at the sight of those tears.

He leaned in, wiping them away gently, and soothingly stroked Frisk's back as they continued to cry. "Oh, no. It's alright, dear. Everything is going to be alright," Mettaton whispered, kissing the top of Frisk's head. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I worry about you, darling."

Frisk nodded a bit, and scooted closer to Mettaton, pressing their side against him.

"...Kids at school made fun of me..."

Mettaton's eyes went blank.

"...Called me...'stupid monster kid'...said that no one wanted monsters..."

The robot swallowed. "Did...they hurt you in any way?"

Frisk tensed, and Mettaton felt his grip tighten on Frisk a bit more. "Where?" he demanded, his voice flat.

They took a deep breath and lifted their shirt, turning their back to Mettaton to show the bruises that littered the soft skin. Mettaton ran his cold fingers over them, and then felt an unfathomable rage pulse through him.

He jumped to his feet, a dark look settling in his eyes even with no expression.

Frisk blinked.

"I'll be right back," Mettaton said a little too quickly and dashed out the door.

Frisk set their shirt back down, and turned to look at Flowey. The flower scoffed, and looked towards the door with amusement. "You might wanna follow him so he doesn't kill those kids," he said with a laugh, and snickered as Frisk's eyes went wide in response.

Two young girls and a boy played on the swing-set behind the school. They told jokes, laughed, and jokingly beat each other up—as any normal kid would do.

They definitely weren't expecting the giant, oddly attractive robot to approach them with murder in its eyes.

Mettaton smiled, his grin void of emotion, and his eyes flashed dangerously as he cracked his knuckles. He towered over the children, taking pleasure in the way they backed up and stared up at them with wide eyes.

"Which one of you hurt my baby?"

The children trembled at his voice. "W-What?" the boy stammered, his knees buckling as he stumbled into one of the girls. "W-Who?"

"Frisk," Mettaton said more firmly, his grin falling, and pressed his lips into a flat line. "Which. One. Of. You. Hurt. Them."

"O-oh," one of the girls in the back mumbled. "W-We were only joking around! S-Seriously! Cut it out!"

"I don't take anyone hurting my baby lightly," Mettaton said, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Haaah, someone should be recording this right now! We can call it..." He trailed off to think for a moment, and then snapped his fingers in realization. "'Lessons With A Killer Robot'!"

"'K-Killer'!?" the children squeaked in unison, and then ran off screaming for mercy.

"DON'T YOU EVER THINK ABOUT HURTING MY BABY AGAIN!" Mettaton yelled after them, cupping his mouth with his hands to enhance the sound.

"M-Mettaton!" Frisk called as they ran up to the robot, an annoyed Flowey in their arms ("Did you really have to take me with you.").

Mettaton beamed at the sight of their small human, and knelt down so he was at eye level with them. "Darling, how nice to see you!" he said happily, his eyes sparkling. "But it is rather chilly out. Aren't you cold?"

"You...didn't have to do that for me." Frisk tightened their grip on Flowey's pot, and the flower sighed in exasperation ("I'd rather be in the underground than this.").

"Nonsense!" the robot exclaimed, squeezing Frisk's arm reassuringly. "It's my job to protect you, darling! It's the least I can do! You looked rather upset about it."

Frisk shrugged, and dropped their head to stare at the ground. Mettaton clicked his tongue, and tilted Frisk's chin upwards so he could look into their eyes. "Hey," he said, his voice soft and quiet. "I'll always have your back, okay?"

Frisk felt their eyes water, and nodded happily, a smile settling on their face.

Mettaton smiled back, ruffling their hair and delicately placing a kiss on their forehead. Then he stood, taking one of Frisk's hands and leading them back in the direction of home.

"Come on, darling, we should get going! Toriel will be angry with me if you're out late!"

From his pot, Flowey groaned.

"I still don't understand why I had to come too."

poor flowey just wants a break

why did i write this again

this is totally self-indulgent

reviews are always appreciated!