Her Guardian || Demon! Dream Sans x Reader

quattuor

Since Dream is represented by the sun (whereas Nightmare is the night), I figured I'd update weekly on Sunday cuz I couldn't resist the symbolism. Bonuses will be released midweek in between regular double/triple updates like before, and who knows? Maybe I'll even throw in a weeklong bonus special like last time... 

It took (Y/n) almost a half hour to find the summoner's soul contract book—the one specifically for a summoner's demon protector—and she found it hidden in the back of her father's old room. She tried to ignore the inch or two tall dust bunnies collected on the master bed, and vehemently avoided thinking about who the room belonged to. She held the book to her chest as she fled the room and all the painful memories it tried to conjure up, pushing past Dream to hurry back downstairs. His gaze lingered on the closed door to the room but he chose not to pry, instead teleporting downstairs to sit on the couch beside her, crossing one leg over the other to sit properly as his folded hands rested on his knee. He waited patiently while she flipped through the book in search of the summoner's soul contract, and once she found it, she read through it quickly.

Soul contracts were deals designed to tie the human and demon's souls so they were bound to work together on a more personal level, and any violation of the contract would lead to the immediate death of the demon. Since a demon could only have one soul contract at a time and Theo's death signified Dream's freedom from his contract, Dream was essentially a free demon. That made (Y/n) nervous, as a free demon was uncontrollable—even if Dream had made no move to hurt her. Dance and Dad had a sort of bond akin to best friends, almost able to feel what each other was going through due to their soul contract, and though she'd never had one herself, she wondered if she'd inherently understand Dream once the contract was formed due to their souls knowing each other—whatever 'knowing' meant she wasn't quite sure yet.

When (Y/n) finally looked up, she held her hand out, palm facing the demon. Her soul appeared in front of her—a dull (S/c) with a crack running straight down the middle—and she tilted her head. "You called me pure earlier. Guess you were wrong." She'd tried to avoid looking at her soul ever since losing her family, and seeing it now just proved why. The color, the very life of her soul, seemed drained and muted, and while she hated letting the demon see it, a very small part of her still felt comforted that it was holding itself together at all.

Dream's eyelights remained kind as he shook his head. "Nobody can be completely pure or completely corrupted, (Y/n)." His tone was light, almost like he was being playful despite the clear authority in his voice. It made her want to stop and listen to him, like his very presence commanded authority, but she was hardly so submissive.

"Then why did you call me pure?"

"You are without corruption." He placed his hand flat against hers, his yellow gloves a velvety fabric that felt almost rich with how high the thread count was. "And since you are the first human I have met that remains uncorrupted despite her profession, that makes you special." His words held weight, but she found herself shaking her head. She wasn't pure, not after all she'd been through, and despite knowing demons couldn't lie, she didn't trust his words. He said himself no being was truly pure, so he was simply trying to make her think positively.

She eyed his white soul, seeing the color remained uncorrupted despite how many men he murdered. So murder didn't even taint his soul? She wondered, then, how many other deplorable things he'd done despite his soul remaining good, and she felt her brain once again warn her to be careful around him. He'd killed his last contract holder, and despite the moral high ground he apparently held, she didn't trust him. She needed to be careful to make her contract with him free of any and all loopholes—Theo's death a stark reminder of what'll happen if she doesn't.

(Y/n) adjusted the contract book in her hands, her (S/c) soul reflecting Dream's white one as they floated in front of each other, and she read off the page. "Demon King Dream, Guardian of Positivity, I bind my soul to yours for my protection. My very life is yours to protect until the day you die. You are forbidden from killing me or causing my death in any way, as well as letting any harm come to me, and your sole goal is to keep me alive should any force try to claim it. If I die..." She trailed off, the next couple words on the page making her frown. "Actually, I'll just skip that." She cleared her throat and continued. "To better aid you, I bind our very minds as well as our souls." She leaned closer, resting her forehead against his to make their thoughts one. She felt the magic course through her and shivered, her own magic supply depleting with the power of the contract. He smiled at her, wondering if she was doing alright, and her eyes widened. She could hear what he was thinking. His own sockets widened at hearing her thoughts, and she awkwardly looked back down at the book. Maybe she shouldn't have included that line. He frowned at that. "My commands—both verbal and non—shall be carried out post haste...unless of course you physically can't or something." That last part was her addition, not wanting him to violate the contract due to being physically unable to complete an impossible request. "And when I finally free your soul from mine of my own fruition, I allow you to return from whence you came. Do you agree?"

(Y/n) finally rose her gaze to Dream's, and the pure warmth in his golden eyelights made her freeze. He was looking at her like he saw her in a whole new light, like he finally understood her, and she felt the urge to crawl into a hole and hide. He chuckled. "Being known is scary, is it not?" Her eyes widened as his eyelights seemed to twinkle. "Yes, I agree to your soul contract, my summoner." Their souls hovered closer, pressing together until they were indiscernible from each other, before finally returning to their chests.

Dream shivered, a goldish hue coating his cheeks. "[That felt like a soul bond,]" he thought, and she felt herself startle at how crystal clear his thoughts sounded in her head.

"[Soul bond?]" she mentally asked, and his nervous eyelights returned to her. She'd heard a lot about demons from Dance and Dad and read all about them in Dad's books, but she couldn't recall anything about a soul bond. Maybe it was in one of the books he wouldn't let her read until she was older.

"[I should not have thought that.]" He looked away, for once too embarrassed to be forthcoming with information. "You do not need to worry about it, summoner," he said aloud. She didn't believe him, and he could feel her disbelief even without hearing her thoughts. "Our mental connection will take some adjusting." His smile was a little tense, and she felt her own discomfort mirror his at practically sharing a mind with a demon. She didn't consider all the implications of letting him hear her thoughts before she added the pact—even though it was specifically designed to aid him in keeping her alive. It was standard practice to share your thoughts with the demon you summoned, but that was only in the interest of having the demon carry out your every whim. She didn't want to enslave Dream to her—even though she knew she'd be safer in the long run. Dance was a being deserving of his own autonomy—which is what her dad practically gave him—and while she wished things were different and she didn't have to force Dream to do anything, she didn't regret the contract she formed. She needed his help and she needed him to be compliant, and even if he seemed willing to do it anyway, having a contract calmed her anxieties.

"[You stay out of my head and I'll stay out of yours, alright?]" (Y/n) waited for his mental agreement, but it came with a small half-smile.

"[I will do my best, summoner.]"

"[I need a better nickname,]" she mentally grumbled as she stood.

"What's wrong with 'summoner'?" Dream asked as she headed to the kitchen to get some cleaning supplies. 'It feels detached and basic', she wanted to say, but why was she complaining about that? She and Dream might've been soul bound, but that didn't mean this was going to be a forever thing. Once Waylon left her alone, she'd go back to the solitary, quiet life she had before without all the demonic problems.

"[I can feel how little you want that,]" Dream's quiet thoughts interrupted her thinking, and she mentally shouted at him to get out of her brain. He went silent as she continued rummaging through the cupboards for cleaning supplies. She needed to clean up the bodies and vomit, and the longer she waited, the harder it would be to get the stains out of the wood flooring. But despite Dream's insistence he knew what she wanted, he couldn't be more wrong. She didn't want to be wrapped up in a life-or-death situation where she could die at any point, and after what happened with her dad, she kept her distance from summonings and demons and magic because all it brought was trouble. She was happy with her easy, stress-free, solitary life. She was.