Her Guardian || Demon! Dream Sans x Reader

vīgintī novem

"That woman can talk," Error grumbled to himself, making (Y/n) shift to stand beside him to look up at Waylon's study. Mrs. Waylon was still yapping at Nightmare, but now the outside pair could see Nightmare's minions further in the room. (Y/n) couldn't make out their expressions but it didn't take a psychic to tell that tensions were high in the room.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"Could be their failure to kill you, could be about their battleplans, could be nothing at all." Error's eyelights stayed zeroed in on the study, something swirling in their multicolored depths that pulled a disgusted scowl to his face. "She looks a lot like you." (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes snapped to Error as he continued, still facing the business building. "She has a strong presence, and you both have demons around you that will protect you with their life." He felt her gaze boring into his skull and sighed. "What?"

"That's not exactly comforting to hear," (Y/n) mumbled. Being compared to someone like that wasn't flattering. "I thought you were going to say we style our hair the same way or something."

"Well, I suppose you look pretty similar, too." His sockets squinted as he pushed his glasses further up his nose bones. She studied the older woman for a long moment, finding he was right. Her hair was (h/c) too, but her face was more stern and angry than (Y/n)'s—at least the summoner hoped so—and her attitude wasn't nearly as kind—not that (Y/n) could really be called kind, but considering who she was being compared to, she could be called a lot of things she wouldn't typically describe herself as. Sweet, for one. Or relaxed.

Mrs. Waylon turned towards the windows out of the study, looking out with a fury to her gaze even (Y/n) could feel. She stood in front of a desk, a velvet red chair her hand rested on the back of—the setup designed to give the best view of the ant-size people down below—and she looked down her nose at everything outside of her world. (Y/n) watched her gaze carefully, trying to decipher why she felt drawn to the woman like she knew her. Mrs. Waylon sure acted like (Y/n) ought to know her when they'd messaged about Dream's summoning, but it was probably because of her status. It was hard to forget such an unpleasant personality as Mrs. Waylon, so in that sense, (Y/n) knew all she needed to know about the businesswoman.

(Y/n) swore the woman's (e/c) gaze landed on her before another figured appeared, and instantly Mrs. Waylon whirled to start yelling at him. "[Waylon's in the study.]" Before they'd left her home by using the vault so Slash could teleport them here, she'd looked up a picture of the rich man so she'd recognize Mr. Waylon instantly. He was a model with tanned skin, aged like wine with a handsome smile and deep crystal blue eyes, and today he was wearing a tailor-made suit with the front unfastened, the top couple buttons of his collared shirt unbuttoned. His hair was naturally a caramel color with bleached blonde highlights running through it, and his features were sharp like a businessman with plenty of years of experience in getting what he wanted. He carried an air of confidence about him, and even in the couple pictures she'd seen of him before their mission, he always looked like he was in complete control—of the situation, of himself, of everyone around him.

Waylon ran a hand through his hair tiredly, not providing much fight against Mrs. Waylon, and (Y/n) realized that the Waylon she was seeing now didn't resemble the Waylon in the photos. She couldn't see that well from this distance but she could still make out the bags under his eyes—something she doubted he'd ever let the public see. Mrs. Waylon stomped towards him, whatever angry discussion they were having heating up as Waylon held up his hands in defense. Suddenly a couple more figures appeared between the couple—Fell and a couple other demons (Y/n) didn't recognize. Her eyes widened as Nightmare's tentacles sharpened, his minions stepping up to back up the businesswoman.

"What's going on?" she mumbled, unease slipping into her tone.

Error shifted anxiously next to her. "I don't know but this isn't good. There's too many demons in there for the Stars to take on and win." Something about the situation in the study made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Why were the Waylons arguing? They looked about ready to tear each other apart—or at least their demons were. But why was each demon backing up a respective parent? Did each Waylon have specific demons contracted to them? (Y/n) had assumed the Waylons were united on all fronts like all business couples were, that each of the demons were bound to both of them with a contract each, but what she was seeing didn't line up with her assumption and that made her extremely nervous.