Flowey - Scorched

“That's strike one.”



Flowey held Papyrus down with a scorched vine. His body was too green to burn, but all that raw magic had done considerable damage regardless. Dismembered vines littered the clearing and his main stem was battered, leaving him unbalanced and wobbling.



If Papyrus hadn't tired himself out so quickly, Flowey might have had a real problem on his hands, metaphorically speaking.



“You know,” Flowey said, watching Papyrus claw at the vine, “it never fails to astound me how little you value your own life.”



Blackened strips of vegetation peeled up like curling ribbon under the fingertips of Papyrus' gauntlets. Flowey let him go, loosening and lifting the vine. Not that he could really feel pain, but it was easier to heal without fresh damage taking place. Besides, with the way Papyrus was shaking, it was doubtful that the skeleton could stand, much less do anything else.



As impressive as that burst of desperate magic had been, now it was done.


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Flowey is Not a Good Life Coach, Chapter 23