#*Superstar. (Mettaton)

[toborusk]

why are ship names so hard for characters so hard when they have so many parallels. mtt and starlo why do you have such hard names to combine.

moviestar? popstar? spotlight? starlatton doesn't feel right when spoken. superstars??? guys help

anyway enjoy this wip

[irazor]

“Is Bodie into gaming?” Even asks. Slowly, Isak turns his head, an incredulous expression on his face. “Bodie?” “Your boyfriend.” Even knocks his knee into Isak’s. “Is he? A gamer?” The corner of Isak’s mouth pulls up ever so slightly. It’s fascinating to witness how quickly his face can transform. From polite, near-cautious, to so present. Right here. “Bødvar,” Isak says, his voice filled with the utmost patience, “enjoys sports.”

Chapter 9 of Superstar by @ghostcat3000 and @irazor is now up on AO3. Enjoy!

A million thank you's to everyone who's reading and commenting. You're the best. ❤️❤️

[sui-imi]

@ Cellphone Papyrus: I bet you vibe a lot with the Mettatons or characters in Mettaton's place! They are the closest things you have as a machine!!

[CELLPHONE] INSTEAD OF BEING JUST MY TV IDOL, METTATON IS NOW MY MACHINE IDOL TOO!!

[CELLPHONE] I JUST DON'T GET IT… HOW IS HE SO RECTANGULAR, SO ANALOG, YET SO… HIGH TECH?? BUT SO ALIVE??? IT MAKES MY NON-EXISTENT STOMACH GET BUTTERFLIES!

[CELLPHONE] HE'S SO COOL... THAT I CAN BARELY APPROACH MOST OF THE METTATONS I MEET. I DON'T WANT TO EMBARASS MYSELF IN FRONT OF HIM!! SO I DO WHAT EVERY NORMAL FAN DOES.

[CELLPHONE] STALK THEM ON THE UNDERNET!

---

Thank you for the ask, anon!

[im-trying-guys]

hey does it make anyone else really sad that deltarune mettaton will probably never get to be truly happy or am i just too attached to the tumblr sexyrobot

like… i assume most people know this stuff but in case people just got into deltarune and never played undertale mettaton is a trans man. it’s kind of an allegory but it’s really not. ghosts in ut/dr are all gender neutral from the get, mad mew mew decides she wants to be a woman and possesses an anime girl figure, mettaton decides he wants to be a man so alphys builds him a humanoid male body, napstablook is interesting cause they’re nonbinary but in the context of their culture they’re cis.

in deltarune on the other hand, mettaton is a reclusive ghost whose face we never see and can only identify as the same character via his speech patterns. he’s a shut-in ghost who doesn’t even have the self-esteem to go outside and may be an insight into how he was in undertale before meeting alphys… but deltarune’s alphys isn’t a genius morally dubious royal scientist- she’s a high school science teacher, so unless she’s secretly building cool draggy superstar robots in her basement…

mettaton is kind of screwed. he’s gone from largely able to transition, prideful, high self esteem to… completely unable to look the way he wants? is there an out to this i’m not seeing or did au’ing undertale put mettaton in a situation where transition is impossible?

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Anatopic Anachronism

Pairings: Sans/Sans, Eventual Crepic

Rating: Teen

Synopsis: Chaos Theory is in full swing: instead of creating Epictale Papyrus when Epic was in his twenties, Epictale Gaster grows impatient in ushering humanity's destruction and creates Packs when Epic is thirteen -- more than a decade earlier than canon -- and decides to implant the Eye into Epic at this age. The repercussions of this action will echo through time and space.

CW: Canonical child experimentation, child abuse, blood, intense violence near the end

Word Count: 5, 438

Chapter 1: A Butterfly Flapped Its Wings

A small carpet was laid on a concrete floor. It's decorated as a pixelated mimicry of the night sky from the Surface. Something Sans had been fascinated with after he’d learned about space and the stars above from their tales of the Surface, from movies and books he watched and read. Mew Mew had discovered it in the Dump during her latest excursion there and later offered the rug as a gift to Sans during the last ghost family movie night, knowing how little the brothers had and unable to do much for their situation but this. 

In the corner of the barren room was a single mattress with a blanket Lara had sewn. The Royal guardswoman had gifted that to the brothers to be sure they were no longer cold at night. It was made of soft, fluffy fleece, dyed a rich violet (Sans’s favorite color), and decorated with white butterflies.

When Sans had questioned why butterflies, because sure, he thought they were pretty, but didn’t have much attachment to them otherwise, her response had been, “For my dear nephew, as lovely as a butterfly,” Lara smiled kindly. “To remember that there is always beauty at the end of all pain.” 

Butterflies became his favorite insect after that.

The only other furniture besides the mattress was a small wooden cabinet. It contained books Sans had been gifted or borrowed from the library through one of his fa — his creator’s followers and a few toys he’d made for himself and his baby brother.

Resting atop the cabinet was a small, square device Napstablook had found from the Dump and helped patch up with Mettaton. The shy ghost had gifted the tiny pod and a set of custom headphones they’d designed for Sans for his birthday. It was full of music from the Surface, as well as a few original songs made by the ghost themself. 

The room was both a home and an enclosure, far too small and empty for one, let alone two, young monsters to cohabitate, and yet they did. 

Sans sat on the floor of their cell, Papyrus perched in his lap. Papyrus struggled with speech and writing, so their past few weeks together had been dedicated to practicing the alphabet after drawing and playing cards.

“Yeah, that’s it!” Sans praised, beaming along with the toddler when he finished coloring and tracing the letter ‘A’. “That’s ah, ah, apple! Good job sweetie. Now, can you show me “B”? How do you do buh?” 

The child concentrated, sockets narrowing in concentration as he meticulously traced Sans’s writing until he’d filled the line. Finished, he turned his skull to watch him expectantly and pointed. “Buh! Buh!”

“It is!” Sans agreed. “Now,” He wrote the next letter. “Can you do “C” for me?”

Papyrus quickly set to work, speeding down the line as fast as his tiny carpals could manage. 

When he finished, his efforts were recognized and commended. “Way to go superstar! Now, we’re gonna keep going, okay?”

It’s because he was cheered on and supported that Papyrus, albeit tired, nodded anyway, eyes sparkling determinedly. “Ah!”

“That’s right, and when we’re all done, we can play, okay?”

“Ah!”

And so the time went, Sans patiently waiting for his brother until he’d completed the entire alphabet down the page. As soon as the last “Z” was traced, Sans cheered, lauding Papyrus’s accomplishments with boisterous whoops and whistles. “You did it! Good job little brother!” 

He swooped in, hugging and rocking Papyrus tight as they celebrated. Papyrus babbled, cheerful nonsense quickly derailing to screeching giggles as Sans began to lift him and toss him into the air, catching him as he fell. 

“Who’s a hard-working little babybones? You are! Yes, you are! Good boy!”

Papyrus laughed, bright and sweet like a ringing bell. Sans’s grin was broad and happy, full of pride and adoration for his baby brother. “Now as promised, you wanna fly?”

Papyrus nodded, waving his arms so fast in anticipation that he nearly knocked himself over. “Yuh! Yuh!”

“Okay,” Sans’s eyes glowed soft sapphire, his magic thrumming to life. “Hold on tigh—” “Asset.”

He froze immediately. Blindsided, his magic flared too fast for him to hold back as he prioritized his brother over his control. He caught Papyrus and held him tight as his amorphous magic morphed into a bone attack that hurled itself at the source of his fear.

It was suddenly quiet, far too quiet, save for the ringing in his ear canals. Sans’s Soul pounded behind his ribs like the frantic beating of a small bird’s wings.

Terror was a thick wedge lodged in his throat that he couldn’t swallow back. His arms trembled but his hold remained firm on Papyrus as he met his creator’s annoyed frown. 

Mettaton stood behind him and to the side, arms crossed respectfully behind his back. His glasses were his mask and revealed nothing about what this unexpected interruption would entail. The robot waited silently. Sans’s eyes fluttered from him to Gaster and back before finally settling on the royal scientist.

Gaster had caught the bone attack in his hand and stared, unimpressed, at the tiny bone trapped in his gloved hand. “All that training,” Gaster’s grip tightened, easily crushing the bone to dust that he let fall to the floor. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a disappointed sigh. “And your magic is still this weak.”

The guilt of his constant inadequacy and this latest failure stung, roiling his nonexistent gut. “I’m sorry sir.”

At least he remembered this lesson: never call Gaster father, only when princess Toriel  and or her companions were present was he allowed that privilege.  

Gaster nodded approvingly. “Do better. Now,” Gaster beckoned, curling his expectantly. “Come here, Sans.”

Mettaton held out his arms.

Apprehension was serpents slithering over his bones, coiling tight around his body and weighing down his limbs. Tightening his false throat, but he’d learned to breathe through the pain, and nodded, obediently crossing the room to hand Papyrus over to Mettaton it would be okay, Metta would keep him as safe as he could and stood respectfully before his creator.

He waited, keeping his skull bowed in deference. He knew to expect something, and even with that forethought, he tensed when Gaster’s hand cupped his jaw and lifted his head to stare into his eyes.

The older skeleton bent at the waist to meet Sans’s height. Gaster’s grip on Sans’s mandible was tight, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as the experiments he’d conducted on his Soul, so Sans held still. Keeping his discomfort silent as he obediently remained in place. His Soul pounded in his chest as his fa— his creator inspected him. 

He tilted Sans’s skull slowly, his eyelights burning into his own. 

Sans swallowed, the sound deafening in his mind. Unable to handle the sole focus of those cold eyes, he shifted his orbs to the side. His eyes flickered off the side to Mettaton. Papyrus was cradled in his arms, his arms gripping the lapels of Mettaton’s coat as he watched in concern as Sans was trapped observed.

Sans met Mettaton’s optics, his true emotions concealed within his glasses.

“Look at me, Asset.”

He knew better than to disobey. 

His eyelights immediately returned to Gaster. “Y-yes, sir?” He tried not to move, but when Gaster brought his hand into view Sans flinched. His Soul battered his ribs. He expected a sudden attack, a precipitated assault to test his physical endurance and STATS or a punishment for a failure or act of disobedience his mind simply couldn’t ascertain in this moment of ice-cold terror—

Instead, Gaster simply traced the rims of his sockets with his gloved thumbs, surprising both himself and his robotic friend inspector. “Sir?” Mettaton dared to question. 

Sans dared not move. 

Another eternity seemed to pass before Gaster seemingly found whatever he’d been searching for, nodding to himself as he let go of Sans and returned to his full height. “It will do.” 

Sans flinched when his gloved hand patted the top of his skull. “You may resume your leisurely activities. I’ve decided your brother’s analysis is not needed at this moment.”

Small, breathless relief. A small mercy, but a beggar could never be a chooser. “Thank you, sir. But, why?” 

Sans was grateful, and he knew Gaster’s temperament could change, but if he could know how to keep Gaster from needing to experiment on Papyrus, he would do it in a Soulbeat. 

Carefully, he asked, “What made you change your mind?”

Gaster’s mouth quirked in a smile that was anything but comforting. Cold shivers trailed down Sans’s spine. “I have a use of you that Papyrus cannot fulfill at the moment.”

He turned, an arm clasped to his back as he waved.

“You are dismissed from your duties for the evening, Mettaton.” 

The robot bowed his head. “Thank you, Sir.”

“And you may resume your leisurely activities for the night until Soul analysis in the morning, Sans.”

“Yes, sir.”

Both the robot and skeleton didn’t require air to survive, yet they held obsolete breaths and did not gasp for air until long after the royal scientist had left the room. 

Sans’s extremities trembled, his Soulbeat still wild from his upset nerves. He reached out to Mettaton and gratefully accepted Papyrus as the toddler all but launched himself into his brother’s arms. Sans held Papyrus tight, squeezing him as carefully as he could as he tried to calm the upset infant and ease his frightened self. 

“Sh, sh, it’s okay sweetie, it’s okay.” “Muhmuh! Muhmuh!”

“No experiments tonight for me,” Sans promised. He kissed his brother’s foreskull and soothingly rubbed the back of his onesie. “Okay?”

Papyrus sniffled, mind far too young to truly comprehend their situation, but was upset his brother was upset. He clung to Sans, rubbing his crying face into his chest as Sans soothed him.

Sans tilted his gaze back to Mettaton. “Any ideas what that was about?”

He shrugged, expression blank, almost a successful, unfeeling mask of cold indifference.

But Sans’s survival had hinged on discerning the hidden. Had learned to find what was hidden from sight. He knew from the tension riddling the robot’s broad shoulders and the way his mouth pursed that he’d been just as unsettled as Sans.

Truthfully, Mettaton answered. “I don’t know.” He pushed his glasses up his nasal ridge. “It may have been an impromptu health inspection, it wouldn’t be the first.”

Gaster had always been odd, his treatment of Sans no outlier from his usual discompassionate behavior. He’d torn into Sans’s very Soul before, had stuck his bones with wires and metallic prods to see how dust and magic given sentience functioned, to increase his unusually low STATS to no avail. 

Still, the way Gaster had stared at his eyes, observing the glow of his eyelights…

Mettaton often felt that trying to read his superior was like trying to decipher an amorphous painting of a jagged puzzle. Whatever his true machinations, they would remain an enigma, knowable only to the royal scientist himself.

He ignored the dread that pooled in his gut and instead stood sentry quietly, staring into the cell and noting the activities of the young skeletons as they played together. 

He was likely worrying for naught. After all, they were merely children. They were far too young for any fully lethal inquisitions. It was a minor comfort, but it was all Mettaton had. This was his penance for becoming unwittingly attached to the babybones.

Everything would be fine. 

…Right?

The way Gaster’s eyes had watched Sans would not leave his mind. Like the boy was something for him to prod, to tear him apart piece by piece and see how every part of him worked. As though the child was a piece of metal to sink his claws into and rip and slice until he was so broken the doctor had to put him back together again and not a sentient monster.

Mettaton decided to stay later than usual.

Something made the robot stay, even as Blooky called him and asked if he’d be home soon. He couldn’t explain the feeling, that he was missing something important. That something was happening. A crucial piece of a puzzle, the final clue to an unsolved riddle. 

Papyrus shifted in his sleep. He turned on his side and yawned. The sight was made more adorable with his unformed mandible as he nuzzled into his blanket. The butterflies Lara had sewn shifted with his movement, meeting Mettaton’s gaze. Sans sat beside him on the bed, not quite ready for sleep. He patted the babybones’s back, rubbing softly until Papyrus’s squirming stilled and he slept calmly once more.

Mettaton stayed even as most of the followers began to leave for their homes. 

His auditory processors picked up movement down the hall. Mettaton turned to the direction of the sound and watched as a follower went into the lab. The Doctor requested Sans’s presence. 

He and Sans shared a look.

Sans gently stroked the top of Papyrus’s skull. He leaned down, kissing the top of his head, and kissed him goodnight, promising he’d return. 

He trailed behind the follower, the cuffs of his pyjama bottoms (one of three of the only clothes he had) scuffing against the floor. His eyes never left Mettaton’s, even as they flickered pointedly to Papyrus’s slumbering form. Not until Mettaton subtly titled his head in a brisk nod Sans returned. 

And then he was gone. 

Mettaton never possessed lungs, not even when he was incorporeal. And yet as the minutes ticked by, he felt as though the metaphysical organs were squeezed tight to steal breath the robot never needed. He waited, counting down the time that passed in his central unit processor. 

Five minutes passed. 

Then ten. 

Twenty. 

At the half-hour mark, his internal fans had blasted on. His nerves were overheating his internal systems as his power dampener worked overtime.

When Mettaton considered risking a trip to the lab, hiding Papyrus away in the compact storage unit of his abdomen, Sans returned. 

Tension riddling his robotic frame eased as his shoulders fell. His optics scanned the young skeleton as he approached the cell the room.

His STATS remained the same, HP troublingly still 1 but otherwise no detected damage to his Soul—

Both his palms were now hollowed.

Sans quirked his mouth to a half-grin as he entered the room, the door closing shut behind him. The rims of his sockets were lined with unshed tears. “Hey Metta. ‘S all good. Turns out he needed my other hand for a project, ‘s’all.” 

Mettaton’s mouth opened and closed. Everything was blank. Muted. Numb. 

Dampened by his glasses siphoning away the emotions as they surged. 

“I…see. Did he mention what project it was?”

“To be the base of a weapon, I think? Something for the Barrier.” Exhaustion riddled the boy’s body, but his smile was small and relieved and belonged to someone with far more years than a young face. “Not for another skeleton.”

Relief returned breath he didn’t need, Soul feeling so much lighter than it had in the last few hours.

“That’s something.” Papyrus hadn’t been hurt as Sans had, but both knew there was only so much one could do to delay the inevitable. 

Papyrus was a blessing, made Sans so happy and life a little less awful, but Sans hated the thought of another skeleton being ushered into creation to suffer the same awful fate as his. Mettaton knew the same. Sans nodded, agreeing in this unspoken truth. “Yeah.” 

Mettaton didn’t say anything else.

No words would — could — have helped, anyway. 

Sans crawled into the bed and hugged Papyrus tight. The baby curled into his chest, resting his skull into the crook of the young teenager’s neck. “Night, Metta.”

“...Goodnight, Sans.”

Mettaton left the two brothers behind, night finally concluded. 

And still, the unsettling feeling remained.

⏮ ﹏﹏﹏﹏ ✬ ﹏﹏﹏﹏ ⏭

A butterfly perches, settling itself comfortably onto a lilac stalk. It is worn and tired, its body weak from exertion, but now, after a long journey, it has earned its moment of repose.

Curling its tongue through tickling pollen, it drinks, every drop of saccharine nectar that trickles into its mouth and down its throat tangible rejuvenation. Soothing away its pains and aches until it had its fill. 

Hunger appeased, its antennae curl in slaked delight.

Glittering wings sparkle beneath the midday sun. Every beautiful pattern is adorned with such intricate detail that its patterns are art given life, its colors painted onto a canvas made of love. 

Among a field of lilacs, atop a lavender flower, the butterfly flaps its wings.

Elsewhere, shrouded in darkness, a vengeful man poisoned by grief tainted–hate, loomed before a series of complex machinery in a hidden laboratory. Screens illuminated his stony complexion, shadows ominously highlighting contoured bone as eyes without soul light stared at a series of repeating numbers.

His stare was empty, celebrations unknown to his robotic colleague that stood off to his side. The room they're in is lit only by the screens above them, monitors casting an unnatural light on themselves and their immediate surroundings. 

The innocuous numerical arrays reflected a series of findings all concluding the same frustratingly inconclusive answer. Where certainty in a single definitive answer for their findings was the desired outcome, what was instead presented was the same frustrating, indubitable truth: they all lived in their future tomb.

Only a source of power equipollent to seven human Souls could eradicate the barrier that entrapped monsterkind. Despite the magic that powered them and formed their bodies, despite all their talents and unique manas diversified in unique gifts per species, monsters were powerless against the Barrier. Not even all the Souls of the Underground amalgamated could ravage it.

The silence was deafening. His Soul encased in involute machinery felt colder, heavier, far more compressed and suffocated by the stifling gravity that surrounded the taller monster than the metal body the robot possessed.

A picture of a mere child the Asset captioned by lines of code stares back at them through the largest monitor.

The longer the uncomfortable silence dragged, the more Mettaton's synthetic flesh prickled the longer his optics watched Gaster's shadowed complexion stare at Sa—the Asset—

Mettaton pushed his spectacles further up his nasal ridge, the itching sensation buzzing over his synthetic skin quickly facilitating a minor discomfort as the disguised power dampener siphoned his emotions.

“Mettaton.”

His Soul jumped in surprise at the abrupt sound of his name following such a prolonged moment of disquiet. 

“Yes Doctor?” Monotone, Gaster drawled, "What is the Barrier?"

...Huh?

Mettaton blinked. "Pardon?"

"What is the Barrier?" Gaster repeated. His eyes remain unmoved from the screen.

Uncertain of what the Doctor’s end goals were, Mettaton answered what they both knew all too well. “The metaphysical spheroid boundary encapsulating the entirety of the Underground.”

“And what created the Barrier?” “Seven human mages during the Monster-Human War. Sir, my apologies, but what—” “And what is more powerful than a barrier?”

Dubious of his colleague’s intentions in this unusual line of questioning, Mettaton frowned as he resumed his explanation. “The only current known method of destroying the Barrier is—”

“—No,” Gaster interrupted. “Not the Barrier. A barrier. How would you go about obliterating the single most infuriating obstacle in your way? Something that requires a sheer level of power you don’t possess?” “Use something nigh omnipotent to compete with its caliber, perhaps?”

“Indeed.” 

Soft and dull, Gaster’s gloved digits type on his keyboard. The dulled tap tap taps joined the ambiance of internal fans cooling heated metal as Mettaton watched new schematics appear on the monitor beside the Asset. His optics could zoom in and enhance the imagery his current perceptive limits provided, but wi—

“Have I ever told you of the Void?” Mettaton shook his head. “Not that I can recall, Doctor.” 

“The Void is a parallel dimension to our own, inaccessible save for minute distortions in time.” “Ah, so, there are holes in this Void?” “Yes, where creatures could travel between dimensions.” 

“Hypothetically, of course.” Gaster merely hummed. His eyelights were far too knowing, glowing with something Mettaton couldn’t name but the mere view of those searing orbs sent shivers down his spine. “Yes, of course.”

Gaster resumed his typing. “Existing as a dimension outside of reality, think of the possibilities. Why worry about the rules of the Barrier when the Void operates contrariwise to reality and the very laws it had enforced for itself and all that live within it?”

“I’m afraid I’m not following, sir.” “Why waste our efforts on building a power source to destroy the Barrier…when we can simply channel a far more powerful source that’s already in existence?” A definitive ding, and suddenly, holographs floated above them both, surrounding the skeleton and android monsters. Mettaton’s eyelights flew from the schematics to his gesticulating boss. 

“Harness the Void, and we might not need to destroy the Barrier. We might even be able to move the Underground right out of it.”

“It…It sounds too good to be true,” Mettaton replied carefully. His wiring thrummed with nervous mana. His thoughts were slowly connecting, the picture Gaster was painting just out of reach, but the more he heard, the more it slowly came together, and the more inexplicable dread made his Soul run cold. 

“I’ve studied the Void, and while direct access to it would lead to shattering across time and space, with a proper channel in place, the Void can be managed. Harnessed.” Gaster’s face contorted, his permasmile widening impossibly, his eyelights smoldering in fanatical intensity. “We can control the intangible made tangible; manipulate the ether to our very needs.”

A butterfly perched atop a lilac stalk flutters its wings. 

“And what better channel is there than a vessel?” A holograph containing the picture of a young skeleton monster with lifeless eyes stared back at them. He hadn’t been present the day the picture was taken. He’d only been an assistant then. That day, he had been relegated to janitorial duties when Sans’s Soul was opened not for the last time but was for the first time directly transfused with the essence of other monsters’.

Mettaton had been deep in the royal scientist’s office, several floors away from the lab, and could still hear the young boy’s scream as clear as day. 

No matter how much he forced his glasses on, had forcefully shut down his processing systems for stasis, the sound still haunted his auditory processors. Those eyes after had never been the same, had never shined as bright with the innocence of youth that Papyrus's still held.

Even when Gaster had cored the center of Sans’s palm to create Papyrus, the boy had not made a sound. Had only winced with eyes glistening with unshed tears. Yet he did not cry, had not sobbed.

All at once, everything connected. The tests Gaster had conducted on Sans’s Soul, the experiments on his mana, on his intellect, why he had cored Sans’s other palm the past week.

 “Hey, Metta. ‘S all good. Turns out he needed my other hand for a project, ‘s’all.” 

“I…see. Did he mention what project it was?”

“To be the base of a weapon, I think? Something for the Barrier.” Exhaustion riddled the boy’s body, but his smile was small and relieved and belonged to someone with far more years than a young face. “Not for another skeleton.”

Blueprints of an organ, of an eye, stare back at him.

The final picture painted the portrait of a child created with no other purpose but to fulfill the needs and aspirations of others glowed forebodingly in the dimly lit room.

A half-truth. Sans’s recently hollowed palm hadn’t been for the creation of another skeleton. 

It had been for the transformation of one already created.

Mettaton gaped. “I — you don’t mean…?” He trailed off. Hoping to the stars above that he was wrong, that it was so much worse in his mind than in reality.

Gaster continued, “I can start the procedure as early as tomorrow.” As if he was talking about something as asinine as the weather and not plans for mutilating a child’s body.  “Interestingly enough, Papyrus was born with the schematics in his Code for his Eye and so has one naturally.”

“Sir.”

“I’ve had the blueprints for the Eyes for quite some time,” Gaster admitted, “but hadn’t tried encoding them into Sans during his Souling phase. I thought it would be best to wait, that there would be a higher success rate in development should the Code be added post-production.” 

“Sir, I—”

“It could explain the variation between the two subjects. Papyrus’s STATS are far more impressive than Sans’s when he was his age, and yet his intellect is nowhere near as advanced as Sans’s had been and is.” 

“Doctor—”

Gaster tapped his chin in thought. “Hmmm. Yes. Perhaps early Coding the Eye into Papyrus is what impaired his mental development while conversely advancing his mana and physical body development. It would also explain how Papyrus holds no source code for blasters, unlike Sans, who possesses that along with our skeletal subspecies’ code for teleportation.”

The skeleton waved his arms, shifting holographs to the side and fixing his notes. “All the better now that the Code has been edited and perfected. Sans is sure to gain some if not most control over the Void once the channel is implanted—”

Having had enough, Mettaton yelled, “Dr. Gaster!”

Gaster paused, brow quirking in surprise. “Yes?” He indulged Mettaton’s outburst.

Mettaton’s glasses slipped, resting in the middle of his nasal ridge as he pleaded emphatically. “Sir, Sans is a mere child! His mana network is underdeveloped at thirteen years old, who knows what devastating consequences this could have on him, let alone on his mind — !” 

Gaster waved his hand dismissively. “If you are concerned with numbers, I’ve already run through the probabilities. Risk assessment yielded a measly 5% chance of dusting upon insertion and an insignificant 1% chance of falling down after the transplantation adjustment period—” 

“Sir, please!” Sans’s mana was so weak, there was no way he would survive without irreversible damage to his mind. He held only 1 HP, the lowest of any monster, the lowest Mettaton had ever seen throughout his centuries of life. “If this project is so urgent, why not perform it on one whose magics are already fully developed, on an adult containing abundant reserves?!”

“The Asset was built for this very purpose. His body was crafted to be an avatar. Any one else save perhaps myself would have their Code overrun with viruses until it deleted itself and they dusted.”

Mettaton’s glasses continued to slowly descend, the robot’s distress mounting.

“His chosen identity was admittedly a surprise, but in the end a negligible variable with no consequence of import—”

“Do you hear yourself?! Sans is a child, not some puppet for you to commandeer! His mind and body will break from channeling such a vast source of magic, let alone the strain of conducting an entire dimension—!”

“I would carry it myself, but it needs to acclimate to a host first before I can use it,” Gaster explained, unperturbed. “And once more, I was not created for this purpose. Sans was.”

Mettaton’s glasses clattered to the floor. 

He exploded, stalking towards the skeleton and extending his legs’ cables until he matched the surprised doctor’s height. “Even if Sans survives, you are hinging his mental stability and development on what?! On a gamble to control something you barely understand and was never meant to be manipulated!”

Gaster narrowed his sockets. “Watch yourself, Mettaton.” 

He disregarded the warning. Haunted eyes, an agonized scream, a young boy so used to discomfort he didn’t cry when his hands were mutilated—

“Your hubris is unmatched! Risking a life — a child’s life — as a power ploy to satisfy your goddamned ego in the name of monsterkind!” He ranted, internal fans on overdrive as he boiled with outrage and despair.

“I had hoped you would’ve gained some compassion for your son, now sons, after self-reflection in your mourning, but it seems all Moopy’s death has done is make you even more of a heartless bastard—!”

An abrupt squeezing sensation around his Soul was the only warning he had before gravity magic surrounded his form and threw him into the wall. 

It was made of steel and concrete and didn’t create a single crack as Mettaton’s metal bent and broke upon impact. He couldn’t get up, didn’t have time to before Gaster was on him. 

His eyelights were extinguished, his face blurring as Mettaton was grabbed by the throat and slammed repeatedly onto the floor. 

Stars burst in his vision.

Mettaton couldn’t summon his magic in defense and wasn’t spared the chance. 

Gaster threw him to the concrete by his neck, slamming his skull onto the concrete with so much concussive force his synthetic skin peeled away with every blow.

The royal scientist trembled, enraged, wide mouth parted in a vicious snarl as he broke Mettaton bit by bit. His seething words accompanied every blow. 

“NEVER.”

“SPEAK.”

“HER.”

“NAME.”

Mettaton choked. 

The attack had ceased but Gaster’s grip around his throat did not lessen. 

Blood pooled out his mouth. Broken wires sparked and leaked life essence. 

Gaster’s muscular form shook as he crouched above Mettaton, holding him down, daring him to shove him off as he pressed him into the ground. Mettaton couldn’t move him if he tried. 

“If you ever, ever, dare to say her name again,” Gaster breathed, “or use her memory against me,” Every whispered word dripped with venom. Cruel Intent so potent it physically poisoned the robot, curling deep into his wires and sinking into his Soul. 

“I will have you and your family join your deceased clan in death. Repeating history and dying the same death by intangibly crossing the Barrier. Do I make myself clear, ghost?”

Mettaton’s jaw had been destroyed. His speaker was all he had to project his voice through damaged vocals. 

“Ye-e-e-e-s-s,” he rasped.

“Yes, what?”

His laborious breaths staggered, gargling on blood. “Ye-e-e-e-s-s, D-d-d-oct-o-o-or Ga-sss-te-ee-r.”

The skeleton let go, throwing him to the side. 

Mettaton lay in a crumpled heap. Unmoving.

Gaster stood to his full height. He sneered down at the beaten robot. 

He fixed his loosened tie and then patted down his disheveled coat. Without looking behind him, he called out to his uninvited spectator.  

Or should he say, specter?

“Napstablook.”

The ghost peeked out from their hiding spot behind a monitor. Their floating form trembled. “Y-yes?”

“You’re here to pick up your cousin to take home, are you not?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then do so.” Gaster noticed the right side of Mettaton’s face had peeled off. He placed it beneath his shoe and crushed the injured side until it caved in. Napstablook whimpered behind him. “Inform him once he’s recovered that he will not be allowed to return to work until he’s fixed himself up.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He strode out of the lab to retreat to his private quarters for the night. 

Napstablook waited until they were certain he was gone before they zoomed over to their cousin. Their fallen tears floated in the air as they sobbed and nuzzled their cousin’s face. “Mettaton! Mettaton, are you okay?!”

Mettaton couldn’t move. Speaking itself was a herculean effort. But he had to comfort his frightened family. “N-e-e-eeeeed r-e-eeeeee-epa—a–rs.”

Lara and Mad Mew Mew would be startled to see him in this state, he thought idly. But at least then Mew Mew wouldn’t demand he spar with her for a little while.

Napstablook wasted no time. 

Magic surrounded his body, cold and familiar and soothing and safe. Mettaton didn’t protest when Napstablook made him float, turning him intangible and quickly flying the both of them out of the lab and home as fast as he could. 

Mettaton’s optics were damaged, but not blinded. He recognized that cell even when errors and hazard signs flooded his sight. 

Without his glasses, his guilt and regret poured out of his eyes. His tears fell, joining drops of his spilled blood on the floor. His sorrow was a deep ache in his Soul as he closed his eyes, the skeletons’ room growing farther out of sight.

I’m sorry, Sans. 

Mettaton cried, acid tears burning his broken metal body. I can’t stop this. I can’t even be there to offer you comfort when it happens. 

I’m sorry.

His glasses lay on the concrete, surrounded by blood, dust, and broken metal.

Oblivious, two young brothers slumbered peacefully, unaware of the events that had transpired. 

Unaware that this would be the night before their lives changed forevermore.

Far away, in a peaceful field of lilacs, a butterfly flapped its wings.

Credit to @fisheebonez for the amazing cover art for this fic! Please go and commission him if you can so you can ^v^

[utdrmv-confession-box]

Transcript: Not 100% certain as to whether or not this has been stated before but I'm not the biggest fan of the thing where when people ship Papyton they would sometimes make Sans super protective

Sans feels like a character who would be far too chill for that

Papyrus is dating someone? Cool

That person is underground-famous superstar Mettaton? Awesome, maybe Papyrus can gain popularity via association or something

He just seems like someone who wouldn't care so long as his brother is happy and his partner isn't abusive or something

Always felt so out of character to make him overly defensive (plus was there ever any indication that Sans doesn't like Mettaton as a person? I haven't played through Undertale in a minute but even if he didn't like Mettaton I feel he would still be civil at the very least)

[conclover]

｡ﾟﾟ ･ ｡ ･ﾟﾟ ｡ ﾟ。 𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒾𝑔𝑔ℯ𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝒶𝓃 ₊ ⊹ 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 1 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

NEXT CHAPTER

❤︎ Pairing ₊ ⊹ Mettaton x GN! Reader

❤︎ Summary ₊ ⊹ You’ve applied for a position at the renowned MTT Resort, with the exciting opportunity of becoming Mettaton’s personal assistant. As you step into the glamorous building, the celebrity robot himself conducts the interview and expresses a genuine interest in the idea of working together.

❤︎ Warnings ₊ ⊹ Mettaton being physically touchy (SFW). Slight yandere vibes. Burgerpants is having an existential crisis. Cursing.

❤︎ Notes ₊ ⊹ I just learned that ’ and ' are not the same thing. I’ve been using ' all my life thinking it was the correct one. I'll copy paste them bc my puter doesn’t have that curly apostrophe. Updates will be slower because I have to correct this in all of my fics (yes, I’m posposing something work related).

❤︎ Word count ₊ ⊹ 1861

₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊ ⊹₊

Before you started this job, you had a different expectation. The position was sold to you in such an irresistible way that rejecting it seemed impossible. You were going to work for a superstar, and you'd be known by everyone. Perhaps the promise was a bit exaggerated, and though you didn't fully buy into that last part, you decided to apply for the position anyway. After all, being Mettaton's assistant at his MTT Resort—the grandest, most imposing building in all of the Underworld—didn’t sound that bad.

However, as you stepped through the gates of your new beginning, your hopes were quickly shatered. This was nothing like it had been presented. First, the fountain adorned with a statue of your boss’ old form was poorly constructed. A large puddle had gathered on the otherwise gleaming marble floor, a direct result of the poorly made design. The restaurant, while decent was far too dimly lit, as though they were cutting costs on lighting. The receptionist, quite strangely, was just a hand—literally. On the bright side, you had to say that the MTT fast food chain was running efficiently, but only thanks to some overworked employees. One of them gave you all the chilling details about your new boss.

“Good luck,” the young boy said with a forced smile, his voice lacking enthusiasm. “Though, you probably won’t need it.” His gaze drifted, lost in the depths of his own despair.

Despite the boy’s demoralizing words, you held on to a sliver of hope. Maybe Mettaton wasn’t as terrible as everyone made him out to be. Sure, there was that time he tried to kill that little kid. Or the times he belittled Burgerpants for his poor performance. Not to mention the exploitation of his staff and his temper. Or at least thats what you had been told by the burger boy.

“What have I gotten myself into?” you wondered aloud, your concern growing with each passing moment as you made your way to the elevator.

First floor

“Maybe he is not as bad as they say?”

Second floor

“Yes, I can do this!”

Third floor

“Oh fuck, what am I going to say?”

Fourth floor

“You got this!”

Fifth floor

“You have been practicing!”

Sixth floor

“At least the elevator is pretty fast...”

Seventh floor

“I hope I don't end up like Burgerpants.”

Eight floor

“Almost there...”

Ninth floor

You stepped onto Mettaton’s floor, uncertain of what awaited you. You weren’t too worried about getting the job itself. If he was truly an exploiter, it would likely be easy—like a lamb to the slaughter. Even if those terrible things were still lingering in your mind, you tried to set them aside and approach the day as if none of it were true. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Burgerpants’ words, but you knew that starting the job with a frown wouldn’t make things any better. Right?

You took a deep breath as you stepped off the elevator, the soft hum of the lights above you making the silence feel heavier. The floor was immaculate—gleaming, pristine, almost too perfect to be real. The walls were adorned with movie posters that almost seemed to glow under the soft lighting. If there was one thing Mettaton’s empire had going for it, it was its undeniable glamour.

A small knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach as you walked trough the long hallway, trying to ignore the feeling of a gaze that followed your every step. As you moved down the hall, the sharp scent of expensive cologne filled the air, making you feel even more out of place. The door at the end of the hall was polished to a mirror finish. You knocked twice before opening it, your heart pounding in your chest.

The room inside was exactly what you’d expected—a lavish, out of the Underwold, with a view that stretched out over the entire city. Mettaton himself was sitting behind a large, glittering desk, his humanoid form radiating an almost otherworldly glow. His smile was as dazzling as ever, just like in TV! Though something about it felt a little too rehearsed. Just like in TV...

“Ah, there you are!” he exclaimed in his usual, theatrical voice. “I’ve been eagerly anticipating your arrival. Welcome to the future of luxury, glamour and... whatever!”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “Thank you, Mr. Mettaton Ex,” you replied, trying to maintain a confident posture while offering a wide smile.

His eyes gleamed as he rose from his desk, moving towards you with graceful steps. “Please,” he said, his tone warm yet oddly calculating. “Call me Mettaton.”

Despite the charm, a chill ran down your spine as he circled you, his gaze lingering a little too long. “I trust you’re ready for what’s ahead. The Underworld is waiting for us to revolutionize it. And you, my dear, will play a crucial role in making that happen.”

You nodded, a bit surprised to hear that you already had the job. Though still uncertain, you were determined to maintain the facade of confidence. “Of course, Mettaton. I’m ready.”

He smiled again, this time with a sly grin. “Good. You’ll need to be. This isn’t a job for the faint-hearted.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “But I have a feeling you’re not faint-hearted, are you?”

You shook your head, as if to say no, wondering just how much of the rumors were true. More importantly, whether you were ready for whatever came next.

Mettaton’s smile widened as he took a step closer, clearly pleased with your response. His movements were fluid and graceful, like a well-practiced performance. As he gestured toward the pink leather chair opposite his desk, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were on stage.

“Take a seat, darling,” he said, his voice dripping with that familiar, honeyed charm. “We have so much to discuss.”

You lowered yourself into the chair, the fabric sinking beneath you as you tried to control your steady breathing. There was a strange tension in the air, like something was just beyond your reach, waiting to spring into action. Mettaton lowered himself into his chair, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

“Now, let's get down to business,” he said, leaning forward, his hands folding neatly in front of him. “The Underworld, as you know, is at a crossroads. The old way of doing things has worn thin. It’s time for a new era, one of luxury and never ending entertainment.” Rising from his chair, he moved behind yours. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, giving them a tight, deliberate massage. “And you, my dear. You are perfect for this role!”

His words, while promising, carried a hint of something darker beneath the surface. You shifted in your seat, trying to keep your composure as he walked around you, scanning your every move.

“I see,” you said, forcing your voice to remain steady. “But… what exactly would I be doing?”

Mettaton’s smile only widened. “Oh, darling, there's no need to worry about that right now,” he purred taking a seat on his desk. “We'll speak about it tomorrow. Congratulations. The job is yours.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy cloak. Even if you were happy that you got the job you applied for, something darker hid behind those words.

“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr.—I mean, Mettaton.” You rose from your seat and extended your hand, ready for a handshake.

“Pleasure is mine, darling.” His eyes flickered with something unreadable as he shook your hand, the dim light reflecting off his metallic form while his free hand’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the surface of his desk. "And don’t worry,” he continued, his voice softening. “I’ll be keeping a very close eye on you. After all, I want you to succeed.”

You didn’t know whether that should make you feel better or worse.

“I… I won’t disappoint you,” you said, a knot tightening in your throat as you awkwardly pulled your hand back. There was no turning back now. You were committed, whether you liked it or not.

Mettaton’s eyes sparkled, but there was an edge to his smile now, one that wasn’t nearly as inviting. “That’s the spirit. But remember, this is more than a job. It’s a position of trust. The Underworld is counting on us, darling, and there’s no room for failure.”

You nodded, but something about the way he said it, the weight behind those words, felt like a warning more than an encouragement. As you sat there, his presence enveloping the room, you couldn’t help but wonder just how much you were about to sacrifice to play your part in this glamorous, yet undeniably dangerous, job.

“You can leave now, darling,” he said, his smile almost condescending, as if he were doing you a favor. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Do I need to bring anything in particular?” you asked, walking toward the elevator with him close behind.

“Just that lovely smile of yours.” He lifted a hand to cup your cheeks, the pressure making your face feel uncomfortably squished. You weren’t sure how to react to his unexpected displays of closeness. Maybe that was just how he was. Outgoing and touchy.

“Have a nice day,” you said, stepping into the elevator, keeping your manners sharp.

“You too, darling!” he said, clasping his hands together, his enthusiasm for tomorrow already clear.

You pressed the button, waiting for the doors to close, deliberately avoiding his gaze. You already had enough of his attention for one day. Once they closed, you let out a quiet sigh of relief and leaned against the metallic wall. You tried to steady your breathing, but your mind kept drifting back to his words, his touch, the way he seemed to see right through you. There was no turning back now.

“Hey!” Burgerpants called out, catching your attention as you stepped into the cool evening air. “Already leaving?”

"Yeah,” you replied, watching closely as the boy took another drag from his cigarette. “He told me I could go home.”

“That’s weird,” he said, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “I haven’t had a day off since I was a teenager with pimples.”

“I’m starting tomorrow,” you hummed, trying to steer the conversation away from your unsettling day. "I just did the interview, so I don’t know."

“Well, congratulations on the job anyway.” He flashed you a forced smile before turning and heading back towards the building.

“Thanks,” you murmured, still lost in your thoughts.

The events of the day felt almost surreal, and you couldn’t quite wrap your head around what had just happened. How was tomorrow going to be like? More of Mettaton’s cryptic charm? More uncomfortable moments? Or would it be something entirely different? Something you couldn’t predict, no matter how hard you tried. The rest of the night passed in a blur, your mind racing with questions and half-formed thoughts. When you finally lay in your bed, sleep came quickly, as though your body instinctively knew it needed to rest for what might come tomorrow.

NEXT CHAPTER

[colourprinter]

The mysterious royal scientist Gidget/The beloved superstar Gittaton

As always, lore below the read more!

*Note, this uses feminine pronouns to refer to Gidget, this is factored into the story*

The most beautiful in all the underground, publicly Gidget is a superstar, covering TVs, all over every poster and magazine. Fans gather for autographs and the waiting lists to appear on her show are years long! A bright smile a cheerful tone holds everyone's attention.

But... She is also the identity of the royal scientist, a role that is filled but no one knows by who, only that they work hard. The only person that knows that Gidget is the royal scientist is Cecil who found out by pure accident while running an errand.

As Gittaton, she looks like herself mixed with Mettaton EX with a fully robotic body. As Gidget, she has shorter hair (closer to the post act 5 cut version), high heeled feet are replaced by trainer feet and she wears a lab coat that hides her figure.

Publicly is outwardly upbeat, walking with a spring in her step and an always uplifting tone in her voice. She moves with confidence and grace, always taking time to take pictures and sign autographs. Though privately, she's a lot less cheerful, keeping to herself and throwing herself completely into her work, constantly being reminded to look after herself by Cecil.

Much like in Undertale, the true lab does exist, despite having everyone calling her beautiful, amazing, a superstar... She feels wrong, like something is missing. That doesn't be possibel, she put together her own body to be perfect, how could she not feel good about it?

So, she decides that her problem must be that her body is one of metal and not of flesh and blood and she does what she can do to make a new body. I think the details are best left to it's own post but the previous fake Iggy post shows some details after the initial experiments. One thing I will say is that what she created was not meant to think at all, just a body for her to use.

Towards Iggy, she sees him as a chance, an opportunity for many things. His appearance on her shows could boost ratings, she could use his wish to fix her or she could use his attention. Besides, to her, he's real easy on the eyes.

In the story, both sides of her are shown to Iggy, the more recluse side through the social media notifications and the superstar side through Mettaton silliness.

For the neutral/pacifist fight in the CORE, she starts in her scientist form, explaining how she feels wrong for the start. Then she suddenly closes the distance between herself and Iggy and pins him to the wall behind him. She makes an advance even she wasn't expecting, progressing the fight requires using a "Push away" act. She sees him as a coward and he doesn't deny that feeling, unlocking the yellow SOUL as Gidget transforms into her superstar form.

Lights, camera, action!

The fight goes similarly with the ratings based system for pacifist. At the end of the ratings victory, Gidget explains her desire to be more beautiful and to use the wish for it but callers pour in that care less about what she looks like and more that she's always so cheerful and personable. One final call from Cecil (or Genzou if Cecil is... Not around) to wish Gidget good luck if she gets what she wants and not to forget her friends. She finally gives up, wishing Iggy the best and letting him continue with a word of warning about the queen.

If she is fought, she will eventually sustain a critical wound across her stomach, wires falling out and sparks flying. Her eyes lose their confident light before she collapses onto the ground. While is appears that she is dead, leaving and re-entering the room will have her body disappear.

For the murder route, the fight opens the same but instead of pushing her away, Iggy attacks her causing her to go all out as much as she doesn't want to critically harm him. She puts up more of a fight than Mettaton NEO, using mechanical themed attacks that hurt very much (who wants to be hit by a sawblade?). At the end of the fight, she's sliced in half. Unlike in the neutral route, she does not disappear after leaving and returning to the room.

For the true pacifist ending, you take some data from Cecil to the lab, have an extremely awkward hangout in a place that "Cecil's brother says is private" (it's the dump still) where you get interrupted by Orlam which cares Gidget and causes her to flee. Again, true lab will be focused on later

For the design, I replaced the heart on the belt with a watch to represent her friendship with Cecil and the pink with a soft purple (her text colour in OW).

The main standout thing in that, she's not human at all here! Going from a ghost to a feminine robot to achieve her goals even though she doesn't feel great about it, she feels like she has to do it to be happy. But without someone to focus that energy into (Iggy, of course), she starts to snap about her body but that is true lab stuff (I'm building this up but it's not the biggest shock I don't think >.<)

Gonna be honest, I didn't feel good about drawing Gittaton, not used to drawing them with long hair! And look at Iggy finding the camera outside the Ruins door!

[fmsdraws]

Poker Nights at the Omega Timeline idea, take two

And this is where What is Poker Nights at the OT? Basically the premise would be to, much like Poker nights at the Inventory by TellTale, have 4 characters sat at a table and watching them go back and forth as you, the player, are sat with these characters on a off-the-clock basis playing a good game of poker. But instead of well-known characters from franchises colliding, it'd be Undertale AUs. And instead of the setting being the Inventory, it'd be in the Omega Timeline's very own Grillby's.

I'd tossed a few ideas before for what a hypotheticaLL roster could be, and I think I've generally hit a good balance here.

@invertedfate's Mettaton (BOX or SPIRAL, pick yer poison— I thought box could be funnier) — What's better than a fairly famous robot superstar coming down to a run down bar to avoid papparazis? But even out of the camera, his acting skills come in handy, he can bluff his cards real good. (… While originally I was going to go for Papyrus, I kinda feel the likely more raunchy route of the conversations would likely take would leave him with very little to add to conversations.)

@xtaleunderverse's XGaster — The high 'n mighty came to demonstrate his superiority with this fairly pointless game of cards. Instead, he's going to become the butt of the joke. He's prone to placing his eggs in a basket made out of conjectures, and paying the price for it.

@tatatale's ALIVE — The scientist was invited to this tournament, and she decided to finally come out of the woodworks at the request of her friends. I think she'd be very fun as a foil to the other characters at the table. Her experience with Multiverse stuff would offer a fun foil to the high 'n mighty XGaster.

@potoobrigham's Growthspurt Asriel — Nothing like developing a gambling addiction on early adulthood, eh? He's the more lowkey of the players at the table, because he didn't expect the tournament to be this... out-there. Probably the friendliest, but he has a habit of fumbling even good cards.

CORE!Frisk would be working as the host/bartender/card dealer, occassionally chipping into conversations, and overall just making sure everyone is playing nice, with a side of snark.

I'd imagine conversations would go for a variety of topics, from the mundane, to the out-there topics of the multiverse.

If I ever take this any further (and really, there's no guarantee I will) I'd make it a fairly long edited video with voice acting talking through the conversations, or something among those lines. I wouldn't make it a game, but I think it'd be fun as a concept.

But what are YOUR poker table guest ideas? let me know.

[sleepyteaparty]

mettaton is forever going to be important to me. his utter pompousness combined with how half of the things he does in game is in service of giving his friend confidence. his honestly dorky love of human movie and tv so much so that he becomes the only and thus biggest superstar of the underground. he thinks his calculator body is genuinely sexy so much that the confidence he exudes makes everyone agree with him. there's a scene that could have been a man in a dress joke but no, it's a joke about how he wants to kill you so bad. he just looks good in the dress. actually, he looks so good in a dress he sparks a fans transfem awakening in game. his ideal form has bright pink high heeled boots and a defined breast plate. he's a trans man who's utterly happy with his body. he enjoys drama and bloodshed and romance and glitter. he's a gay stereotype in the absolute funniest and campy-est way but is never shown actually having attraction to men outside of.... toby???? fox???

[silly-l1ttle-guy]

MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS FROM VARIOUS DIFFERENT MEDIA

and the reasons why i like them

------

JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE

Noriaki Kakyoin - I just think he's neat

Risotto Nero - he's emo

Kars - HE'S HOT!!!!

Joseph Joestar - goofy as fuck

Josuke Higashikata - he's so silly it's unreal

Leone Abbacchio - depressed alcoholic? that's a favourite character right there

Caesar Zeppeli - I like him :]

Pannacotta Fugo - I think he's an interesting character (also because of phf)

Robert E.O Speedwagon - waifu

Diavolo - pathetic little bitch

Vinegar Doppio - pathetic little meow meow

Guido Mista - he's pretty chill, I like him

Ghiaccio - fuck dude why do I like all the angry ones

N'doul - i saw him and immediately liked him

Narciso Anasui - i could fix him.

Enrico Pucci - birthing hips

Okuyasu Nijimura - love me a dumb bitch

Rohan Kishibe - cunty

Foo Fighters - water

Hot Pants - please step on me

Diego Brando - DINOSAUR!!!

Johnny Joestar - he was really well written! also he looks like a twink

Yasuho Hirose - silly!!!

Josuke Higashikata8 - silly!!!

Santana - silly!!!

Wamuu - big man tits

------

SCOTT PILGRIM

Matthew Patel - pathetic little emo (my favourite breed of man)

Scott Pilgrim - pathetic simp (me too)

Ramona Flowers - please step on me

Lucas Lee - himbo

Knives Chau - Silly!!!

Wallace Wells - he's an icon

Young Neil - Silly!!!

------

STARDEW VALLEY

Sebastian - emo

Elliot - he has nice hair

Abigail - slay queen

Sam - silly!!!

Shane - depressed alcoholic

Krobus - silly!!!

------

OURAN HIGHSCHOOL HOST CLUB

Tamaki Suoh - stupid blond bitch

Haruhi Fujioka - you go girl

Honey - cutie patootie

Mori - love me a good silent type

------

CHAINSAW MAN

Denji - he's so relatable (i want to touch tits too)

Power - CAT LOVER

------

UNDERTALE + DELTARUNE

Kris - non binary icon

Suzie - lesbian icon

Ralsei - icon

sans - haha funny skeleton guy

Papyrus - autistic icon

Flower - the flower

Toriel - love her

Alphys - lesbian icon

Undyne - lesbian icon

Mettaton - gay icon

Grillby - he's HOT (get it?)

Queen - feel like a fem queen

Lancer - an icon

------

POKEMON

Ingo - haha funny train man with no memories

Emmet - haha funny train man

Pierce - emo

Raihan - silly!!!

Leon - silly!!!

Hop - silly!!!

Arven - :(

Melli - stuck up bitch

Adaman - "bisexuals are gonna love this guy"

Irida - silly!!!

Brock - simp

Allister - silly!!!

Jessie - girlboss

James - crossdressing icon

N - long hair

Volo - i HATED this guy at first, then thought "nvm he's cool"

------

OMORI

Kel - silly!!!

Aubrey - auby

Hero - slay king

Mari - yippee!!!

------

DIALTOWN

Randy Jade - pathetic

Phonegingi - GET THE FUCK OFF MY PORCH

------

DAYSHIFT AT FREDDY'S

Dave - vegas

Jack - i like him

Dee - you go girl

Roger - baby

Harry - i like him

------

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S

Glamrock freddy - way to go superstar

Funtime Freddy - same va as diavolo

Michael Afton - Michael Afton

William Afton - JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY

------

WELCOME TO DEMON SCHOOL! IRUMA-KUN

Alice Asmodeus - gay icon

Clara Valac - silly!!!

Ameri Azazel - girlboss

Opera - non binary icon

Kalego Naberius - emo

Sabro Sabnock - HE'S GOT SO MUCH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IT'S GREAT

Lied Shax - silly!!!

Shichiro Balam - gentle giant

General Furfur - same english va as diavolo

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Do you have any Mettaton fics I could read? Nothing explicit and mature, and from Mettaton's PoV pls!

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Underground Mysteries: Life's Lost Episode! by KachiggaTHUNDER (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

The MTT Network may have had a few bumps and hitches following the arrival to the surface, but that hasn't deterred Mettaton! He's determined to see the success of his latest series, Underground Mysteries! Underground Mysteries answers any and all questions that monsters might have about the Underground. Of course, after a certain point, the questions begin to thin out. Not one to give up easily, Mettaton is determined to rejuvenate the show by finding something truly interesting! Of course, as he and his crew may come to find, some mysteries go unsolved for a reason...

The Most Glamorous Puzzle of All by NoSleepUntilVacation (General Audiences, Incomplete)

One hundred fluffy moments in the lives of Papyrus and Mettaton. Some are silly, some are angsty (but end happily), some are just pure fluff all around, and all involve the skeleton and the superstar charting their course through the puzzle known as love.

ACID tears by Mei_archive_account (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Undertale: ACID tears A tale of the two ghost cousins, Mettaton and Napstablook. Mettaton is finally living the dream, and he kept his promise that he will never leave his beloved cousin Napstablook whom he fondly calls "Blooky", who now works as his professional sound mixer. It is thanks to Frisk's heroic actions that led them to the surface. What kind of life awaits them on the surface? How will their relationship further develop? Genre: Family, friendship, comedy, action, angst (*Disclaimer: ALL CHAPTERS HAVE EMBEDDED PICTURES MADE BY YOURS TRULY)

The World, According to Mettaton by orphan_account (General Audiences, Incomplete)

High school life is difficult. More so when Mettaton just wants to be somebody and a slightly annoying Papyrus just won't leave him alone.

Mettaton vs The Surface by orphan_account (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Mettaton has a whole lot of past to confront. And a whole lot of surface to handle. And not too many friends to help him cope with it all, if he's being honest. He needs someone to help him struggle with the awesome responsibility of being a star in the current huge world, but it seems like there's no one…

[nagahanakun]

Mettaton - first prototype

Yes, I am the SuperStar

[blacksnape123]

On the occasion of the 8th anniversary of Undertale, I decided to upload a drawing I made of the Underground’s Superstar, Mettaton 💖

[prodigaldaughteralice]

In one world, the superstar Mettaton helped improve a fan’s self-confidence and actualization with a gift. In another, the waitress Leah gets to return the favour.

One-shot, 4.6k, rated T for cussing. Online friendship, dysphoria, support, and commiseration.

[mettatons-fat-doughy-asscheeks]

Mettaton would 100% be the type to catfish people by using an old picture of himself. You go up to meet this iconic superstar and you are met with a giant blobby slob who can barely even notice your presence.

It wasn't really INTENTIONAL. As far as he's concerned you're just supposed to use your best pictures on your dating profile! He just happens to think those are ones several hundred pounds out of date.

*If like we were in charge of his profile

*Which we totally should be!

*I'd choose this one!

Catty held up her phone to show off a photo she'd taken of him. The flash was on, showcasing how shiny with sweat he was. It was necessary it seems, the room it was taken in dim and only lit up by a TV playing something that can't be made out. Mettaton had a half lidded expression of bliss on his tubby face as he was taking a bite of a burger large enough that he was eating nearly half of it. Mayo spilled out the back and visibly splattered on his exposed gut. He was dressed more casually than usual, sporting a t shirt of his own branding with some heavy pit stains. Some empty cans and fast food bags were visible to his sides on the couch along with a greasy brown sack filled to the brim with steamy fresh burgers. He was looking directly into the camera, the photo taken the split second he became aware it was taken.

*Darlings, what did I say about showing off candid photos?