Wait Hold On What If Rouxls Was Like This

Is Charles a little angry with Henry?

Are you sure you want to delete this item?

i like that both undertale and deltarune tell you you’re a bad person for playing them

undertale makes you take away everyone’s happy ending to replay, and flowey says something about that i think (it’s been a long time so i forget but you hopefully know what i’m talking about?). if you do genocide they tell you no character played a role in that and it was completely avoidable, that was all you.

deltarune shows you you are forcing your will on kris. if you hurt the people close to them that’s on you and it WEIGHS on them. just the very act of having the game open is hell for them, you are in their fucking soul.

idk it’s just cool stuff to explore

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

It’s still the 30th where I am but trick or treat!!

I think someone's got the best treat in my old traditional art gallery...

every time I do a web search, right at the top I have AI info dumping on me

just give me the top result please

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.

I think a lot of what pro-AI people are really wanting is stuff that already exists but they don't know it's out there like

can't format a work email? templates

don't know how to write a resume? templates

writing a thank you card or a condolences card or a wedding invitation? templates templates templates

not sure how to format your citations in MLA or whatever format? citationmachine.net

summary of something you're reading for school/work? cliffsnotes.com

recipe based on ingredients in your fridge? whatsintherefrigerator.com

there's a million more like, guys, we don't need AI, we never needed generative AI

I am very serious about that Gordon Flowey au