| Plaything | Antisepticeye x Reader

Chapter 18: Logic

It's been two hours and the cool sensation hasn't left my forehead. Is it just because his skin was so cold, or is it because that moment has been replaying in my mind so much as I try to analyze his motive? Either way, it's something that YouTube hasn't been able to fix. Frustrated, I stand from my desk chair, stretch, then flop onto my bed. My eyes are trained on the white ceiling, searching for answers.

Maybe it was just one of those spontaneous things he does, I wonder. He does act on impulse, often.

I decide to accept this theory, finding nothing more logical. After another few moments of staring up at the ceiling, I think:

Hey, Anti, could you get back soon? I wanna go outside without having my life threatened.

Almost immediately, the demon appears in the corner, leaning against the closed door of my room. As I sit up, I ask, "Why'd you make this rule, anyway? Doesn't seem too convenient for you."

"It's not the most convenient, at the moment, but it'll pay off in the long run."

"I didn't know you had long-term plans for me." My tone conveys sincere surprise. "Am I allowed to know what those plans are?"

Anti scans me for a moment. "Maybe later. Right now, I just need to keep my plaything safe while I'm away."

"Would you please not call me that?" I groan. "I've told you – I have a relatively significant conscience. I'm not your toy."

Anti steps away from the door and grabs the back of my desk chair to swing it around. He places himself in the seat, facing me. A knife sits in his hands, and he twists it around – probably out of habit, more than anything else. He leans forward slightly and tilts his head to the side, just a bit too far to be natural.

"And what would you like me to call you?" he asks.

" '[Y/N]'. My name is [Y/N]. You know this," I reply, getting a bit annoyed. "And you still haven't given me a legitimate answer about the 'going outside' rule."

"Well, every time you leave the house, there's the chance you'll get broken–"

"Injured," I interject. "Again–" I point to myself "–not a toy."

"Don't fucking interrupt me," Anti growls, pointing the knife at me. I put up my hands in surrender and keep my mouth shut. He takes the knife away and continues: "You might get 'injured', and then if I was a bit rough with you–"

Tortured me, I think at him. Anti glares at me. I simply hold up a finger and then point to my mouth, essentially saying, Wait! I haven't spoken.

"If I tortured you then you'd be permanently broken– or I guess you'd prefer the term 'dead.' But that'd mean I'd have to find someone new to mess with!"

I sigh, putting my face in my hands. He's keeping me alive so he can fuck with me longer. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"I'll stay safe. I live in a pretty decent neighborhood," I say, still facing down. Then, getting an idea, I raise my head up to look Anti in the eyes. "And if someone tries to hurt me you can kill them. I mean, you can kill them anyways, but you could make a game out of it."

Anti raises an eyebrow as his face breaks into a large cheshire-like smile. "I like it." Then, he stands. "Alright. You can leave the house even if I'm not here. I'll just listen out for any panicked thoughts. Take this, at least."

He tosses me a sleek pocketknife. After I fumble to catch it, I stuff the thing into my pants pocket. I give the demon a thumbs-up and watch him disappear.