Experiments:Yandere!Assorted Characters x Reader

Chapter 8: New Home?

You decide, in a short matter, that Alphys is going to get her scaly ass kicked. At the very least, you're not going to allow her to watch any anime or do any science for a month. 

The bed beneath you is comfortable enough, the environment pleasing. None of that matters much, none of that consoles you, but it's an important observation nonetheless. Trapped in this room for at least a week - probably, you don't exactly have access to a clock or even a calender - you've become desensitized to the current situation.

Asgore is talking about something. You don't know what it is, nor do you care. As you sit there, ignoring Asgore's hand on your shoulder, you think back to what Alphys told you.

-----

"It's n-not that diff-difficult to u-understand, Chara," Alphys sighs, adjusting a plant beneath the now tilted ray.

"Y-yes it is, Spy-Spy-Spyro," Chara taunts, pushing the ray out of place again. You shoot Chara an angry look. She sticks her tongue out at you and grabs the plant, putting it atop a high shelf.

"Ch-Chara, th-that's not n-n-nice," Flowey giggles, using a vine to grab a spare pair of glasses. He pushes them on his face with an air of authority.

You narrow your eyes at him as well. He sticks his tongue out victoriously at you, and waves his vines in the air in joy.

"Both of you. Just because you died doesn't mean you can taunt the living,"
You scold. They both start chattering, trying to cover their asses, but you ignore them and turn back to the scientist.

"A-anyway," Alphys grumbles, looking back at her computer, "You're very r-right in your hy-hypothesis. Their p-powers can be described as; Flash, Ch-Charm, Yawn, W-Work Up, Toxic, T-Trick, and Abs-sorb."

"What?" Chara asks, lifting a bucket off her head. She's wearing a bin and holding a yardstick as a sword. Flowey is wearing a colander and wielding a ladle. You and Alphys stare at the both of them for a few seconds before deciding to ignore the ghosties.

"Am I gonna get more information than a bunch of names?" You question. Alphys hits a few buttons, and a paper is printed.

"You'll f-figure it out," Alphys responds, moving to a different monitor. You huff and shove the sheet in your pocket. "The r-real question is, c-can you guess the p-part you m-missed?"

--------

Your brain was churning, trying to put two and two together. You had been scared. . . Had been anxious. . . Been tired. . . Been. . . Yes. . . Yes!

You do your best to stay passive and bored as Asgore's story continues. However long it'll take the others to get here, you'll wait.

And you'll wait.

And you'll wait.

And

You'll

Wait.

More waiting.

So much waiting.

Where are they.

Why is Asgore still talking.

Where is the food.

The more you try to listen to Asgore, the more energy trickles out of your body.

He's telling a story about the War, now.

Is it done yet?

No, no it is not. He's just gotten started.

"Asgore," you break in, stifling a yawn, "can I have some food?" He continues talking, as if he didn't hear you. How rude.

"Asgore," you try again later, rubbing your eyes, "I want food." His response is a pat on the head. It was patronizing, to say the least.

"Asgore," you whine, pulling on his arm, "I'm going to die without food." He hugs you and continues with his story.

This is probably the closest you've come to killing someone.

Speaking of killing someone, where is Chara? And Flowey? Do they know where you are?

Hour nine - probably - and Asgore still hasn't given you food.

You're probably going to die here.

You hate playing the waiting game. But you'll play, damnit. And you'll win. Your motivation? Needing food. The noblest of pursuits. 

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(A/N: Wow, writing has been so hard. Random bouts of depression, lack of energy or desire, this has been a shitty few. . . However long it's been. I'm sorry. Also sorry this is shit.)