“oh Yes, I Am Very Reasonable And Normal About This Subject!!”

Why not check out fanmade undertale yellow content? We have:

Clover revival AU

Clover revival AU

Clover revival AU

Clover revival AU

Kanako revival AU

Clover revival AU

Clover revival AU

And last but not least

Clover revival AU

the big, defining difference between underfell and canon flowey is that while uf flowey is deprived of love, canon flowey refuses to let himself be touched by it.

flowey has no lack in exposure to love. he’s the prince of the underground! but i think there’s a big roadblock stopping him from connecting the love to himself. because flowey quickly goes from “asriel” to “flowey.” and everyone loves “asriel.” not him.

and if that fails, it’s simply a matter of them not knowing what he’s done. yeah, sure, papyrus “cares,” but no matter how much he does so, he’s only doing it to someone who’s never killed before! because who could care about someone like that? who could care about flowey? he’s not supposed to be cared about.

flowey has all the love he needs, but he refuses to let it in. refuses to let it touch him. it drives his character. he’s looking for someone who likes him for him, who’s like him. that’s why he doesn’t see the people who care in spite of everything he’s done, not because of it.

honestly christianity really hit the jackpot with "jesus christ" rolling off the tongue as an expletive so well. the number one problem with fantasy settings is that whatever names you come up with to take in vain will never hit as well as "jesus christ"

happy birthday toby fox :333

FLOWEY FANCLUBBERS MAKE SOME NOISE

how hot is it in arizona?!

Note to self do not leave pens in the car in arizona i gUESS????

you know how some people learning japanese sound like anime characters because the japanese used in anime is different from the japanese used in real life and most of their immersion comes from anime rather than real people. that's siffrin with poterian and plays to me. buddy sounds like shakespeare when speaking poterian

(OC) Guy who looks like a Deftones song 🤨🗡

Are you a "I know their allergies, favorite holidays, favorite songs, birthday, etc. No none of this is in what said OC is in nor is it relevant to know" OC creator, or are you a "Yeah I mean... They probably have a birthday maybe idk..." OC creator ? Or a mix of both ?

the whole thing's devastating in itself, but would you guys believe me if i told you this part specifically makes me so super sad

flowey doesn’t allow himself to feel the snow. not really. he won’t talk about how the cold steadies him, or how it stirs memories of simpler times. he avoids thinking about the quiet. the way the world slows down under the weight of winter, how everything feels softer, almost bearable.

the peace feels too close. too easy.

thoughts like that aren’t for him. perhaps they never were. they belong to someone else. and flowey doesn’t get to be him. not anymore.

so, instead, he ignores it. kills it in its infancy. turns away from the idea before it drags up pieces of a life he refuses to remember. he acts like happiness isn’t something that should happen to him. a mistake. an error in the system that needs to be corrected.

there’s always this jaggedness to his words, something sharp enough to keep anything tender at bay. if something feels good, he cuts it down to size—turns it bitter, spits it back out as cruelty. it’s instinct by now, as natural as breathing.

that’s what flowey does. he tears things apart before they can convince him he deserves more. after all, it’s much easier to laugh at the world than to feel it.

this is just the way things are. the way they have to be.

the softness never feels right anyway. it’s awkward, like trying to cup water in clenched fists. like touching something delicate with hands meant only to destroy.

he’s flowey. he has to be flowey. and flowey doesn’t get to savor things. he doesn’t stop to enjoy the way the snow hushes the world or let the cold bite just enough to remind him he’s alive.

he knows better.

there's almost comfort in that. in shutting things down, in turning them brittle before they can take root. it’s neat. predictable. safe. no dangerous hope worming its way into places it doesn’t belong. no warmth overstaying its welcome. just the same old ache he’s carried for as long as he can remember—steady, familiar, dull.

manageable.

because if he let something good in… what then?

would it stay? refuse to leave? would it start to matter?

would he start to matter?

flowey knows exactly who he is. the villain. the failure. the one who tried to make things right and only made it worse. if there was ever a chance to be anything else, it’s long gone. whatever good might have existed in him has been buried beneath years of mistakes, smothered by everything he couldn’t save.

he had a plan once. a way to undo it all. make things right again. but it didn’t work. he didn’t work. he couldn’t save chara. couldn't save the monsters.

couldn’t even save himself.

and this… this is what’s left.

flowey. the version of him that learned to survive by not needing anything. the one who gave up on hope, joy, and peace because letting them in would mean the walls he built were never needed at all.

it would mean that somewhere inside, there’s still something soft. something worthy.

and he doesn’t know how to live with that. he’s not even sure he wants to.

control is all that makes sense anymore. he decides when the pain comes, how much, and from whom. he decides. no one else.

he’s built everything on that control—this image of who he’s supposed to be, what he’s supposed to feel. but what if he stopped? what if he let the bitterness go? what would be left?

just asriel?

and what would that mean? that there had always been another way?

no. he can’t let that be true.

so he copes. he compartmentalizes. keeps things boxed up neatly. flowey and asriel. good. evil. pain. hope. life. death. they don’t touch. they’ll never touch. he’d lose control if they did. and control is all he has left.

he makes sure to break things down before they have the chance to become anything real. he’s always the one to close the door first—better to leave than to be left behind.

if not, he might remember what it’s like to be exposed. vulnerable. weak.

and that’s something he cannot accept. the possibility that asriel is still in there. that there’s still a way back.

that maybe… he was never as far gone as he wants to believe.

it’s almost funny, in a way, because he’s already changed, whether he knows it or not. the fact that he’s still here, still witnessing the world after everything that’s happened, proves he’s not as detached as he wants to believe.

the fighting stopped. the cycle ended. the monsters are free. and even if he won’t admit it, even if he’s not ready to come to terms with it—there’s a quiet kind of peace in that.

even so, he will dig in his heels. even so, he will play into the role in a war that’s long over. even so, he won’t let anything awaken the barest trace of what it once meant to be asriel.

he is flowey.

the snow will keep falling. it’ll land on his petals.

it doesn’t stay.

neither does he.

because it’s easier that way.