Flowey Teases Frisk at School

Frisk sat at his desk near the back-middle of the class as usual, trying his darndest to pay attention to Toriel as she explained some mundane shit about pre Human-Monster War history. Not as interesting and glorious as Frisk's own Chinese history, spanning thousands of years of glory and war and economic development. It dawned quickly on the prepubescent chinaman that monster "culture" was so inferior to his own that perhaps it deserved to be wiped out completely. What didn't help his increasingly hostile attitude towards monsters was his best friend. Flowey.

Who'd decided that today of all days he was going to hitch a ride with Frisk and come to school to spy on the other monsters. Frisk had agreed that he'd take Flowey with him but under the condition that he didn't interrupt the class or reveal himself. Flowey had agreed, of course, giving Frisk that mischievous smile he'd given so long ago at the start of the whole adventure. It sent an electric shock of apprehension through the Gook's brain but he was willing to put some faith in Flowey. After all that they'd been through together, Frisk found it impossible to think of abandoning his demonic weed.

But as he sat there listening to Toriel's inane history lecture he started to regret the decision.

Flowey was hidden under Frisk's clothes, his fines wrapped taught around his torso in smooth green cords. It was tight enough to be uncomfortable, but thankfully he had withheld his thorns. His face was pressed in between the human's shoulder blades, his velvety-soft petals rustling against Frisk's skin every time he moved. But although Frisk kind of enjoyed the feeling of his friend being so close, he sensed that something nefarious was afoot.

And now Flowey had picked this moment to prove him right.

The malevolent sprout shifted his face upward, peeking just barely past Frisk's collar.

"Hey. Hey Frisk. Hey, shithead."

The human's face remained an impeccably blank mask, but he tilted his head slightly at Flowey trying to get his attention. Although he hated Toriel's shitty lesson, he was by no means ignoring it, knowing there'd be a test involved later on. In fact he was taking diligent notes, trying to concentrate.

"Hey nerd."

"What is it Flowey?"

"Purple nurple!"

Suddenly one of Flowey's vines snaked across Frisk's chest and encircled his nipple with terrifying speed, wringing it tightly and sending a red-hot flash of pain across the human's tender mantitty. His face remained completely impassive, his stoicism still strong in the face of such mild torment. But he could feel the beginnings of sweat forming on his scalp and across his lower back.

"Frisk! You can't make any noises or they'll find out I'm here! You'll need a lot of explaining to do!"

Frisk most certainly did not want that to happen. But it'd take something far worse than a titty twister to break his steely fo-

A wet vine tip snaked into his ear, making Frisk jerk his head like an epileptic and sending a shiver of revulsion down to the core of his being.

Flowey had given him a wet Willie.

Beads of sweat now rolled down Frisk's face in a torrent, but his eyes and mouth remained within his control, if no other part of him would obey, as his legs were flexed to the point of shaking, and his fist was clenched around his pencil, the knuckles white, the pencil cracking internally. This was almost too much for even him to bear. But if he cracked he would be betraying the discipline of his family, handed down for thousands of years from the core mountains of China. It would not be broken here, in this understaffed and ill-equipped ugly classroom by a mischievous flower. He would not allow it.

"Still holdin' up, huh?"

Flowey continued to writhe his tendril inside of Frisk's ear, while simultaneously another vine twisted upwards and pinched his other nipple. With a inquisitor's torturous skill he continued this niplian assault, twisting and pinching, switching from one to another. Frisk could feel it, if this kept up, he'd break!

His ancestors would be shamed by his actions!

Knowing this, Frisk became filled with Determination!

No longer was any of the world worth paying one percentage of his mind to, all his focus shifted violently to Toriel's bullshit history lesson. He would NOT breaks! He would beat Flowey and memorize every word, every fucking verbal tick uttered by his goatmom. He'd ace this fucking test just to spite Flowey! He was Frisk Zhing Zou Ching Bao Dai Lai To Lung, and he was never gonna lose! He refused! Sweat dripped freely onto his notebook, staining the paper and softening the leaden lines, but he did not stop, for the entire forty minute class period he did not acknowledge anything outside of Toriel's hackneyed excuse for a history lesson.

By the time the bell rung and he was allowed to return home Frisk was completely soaked in sweat from the ordeal. HE reached back and all but crushed Flowey's head in his hand throwing him into the bushes on the side of the road back to Ebott. Once again, his ancestral Chinese strength had beaten the evils he was confronted with.