His Summoner || Demon! Nightmare Sans x Reader

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Theodore let out a heart-wrenching sob as he clutched the catwalk railing with white knuckles, and (Y/n) quickly dropped the jagged red bone in her hand to instead hold a hand over his mouth to try to silence the sound. She could feel his agony as he stared at the pile of dust where Mafia once was, and the entire room seemed dead for a long, chilling moment. Theodore collapsed into her side, grabbing onto her blue hoodie tightly as he cried. It terrified her to see him like this, the once composed and professional man reduced to shambles at seeing his right hand demon killed in front of him. He'd always pretended not to care, claiming his demons didn't matter to him because he didn't matter to them, but every time he said that, Mafia would silently look away—like maybe their bond was deeper than Theodore wanted to admit. And now, with the stark realization that he just lost his best friend that had been there for him since this whole situation started years ago, he only now realized how much his demons mattered to him.

Theodore let out quiet, unintelligible murmurs, apologizing for letting Mafia down as he clung to the girl. (Y/n) did her best to keep him quiet as she stared in fear down at the demons below. Sans killed Mafia like he was nothing, and the sheer ease he did it with seemed to terrify her demons. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, but she could see it in her normally resolute King Nightmare's eye: he wanted to run.

"Was that so hard?" Graham snapped, glaring at Sans. Sans flinched, pure burning hatred in his glowing eyelight as he glared right back at Graham. Graham made him kill Mafia; he couldn't violate a direct order like that. For several years he'd been dealing with his insufferable human with a corrupt soul as black as midnight. He'd stupidly clung to the hope that if he tried to be the human's friend, cracked jokes and hung out with him, did what the human wanted, that Graham would change. But despite telling himself that even the worst person could change, he was a good judge of character and he'd known better despite his optimism. There was no redeeming someone like Graham, and this just proved it.

Dust shrunk down as Sans' heated glare passed over his head at Graham. There was so much fury in just a look, years of hatred boiled down to a simple glare that communicated more than words ever could. And as Dream and Nightmare's team looked at each other, they all came to the same conclusion: they needed to free Sans. Sans wasn't their enemy, Graham was, and Sans wanted him dead just as much as everyone else. And as Dream stood taller and Nightmare smirked wider, they realized that maybe, just maybe, with Sans sharing their goal, they stood a chance.

"Now kill this one next," Graham barked, pointing right at Fell. Fell's sockets widened as a silent 'oh shit' left his mouth, and Sans focused on Fell. Immediately the Demon Lord was gone, teleporting away to the other side of the room, and Dust quickly summoned a Gaster Blaster and tried to keep Sans in place with blue bones as Nightmare and Killer rushed at the original demon to take advantage of the momentary pause. Sans smirked and teleported out of the bones, leaving the pair to look around in confusion before they settled on Sans up in the rafters looking for Fell.

"Angelus!" Nightmare shouted, and (Y/n) perked up only for her eyes to land on Sans all the way down on the other side of the catwalk. She froze in terror as Theodore's sobs didn't quiet, and the Strike Force around her held their weapons tighter. She scarcely breathed as Sans lazily looked around for Fell, not bothering to even glance in the humans' direction. He didn't care for them, they weren't his target. (Y/n) felt a frown form on her lips before she came to the same conclusion Nightmare and Dream did: Sans didn't want to fight. He was only following direct orders—orders he was contractually obligated to follow—while still being as lazy as possible about it. Did he want them to win? He certainly wasn't trying very hard. But if he really did want Graham to lose, then maybe they stood a chance!

Another scream made her heart still in her chest, and she frantically looked around for who it was. Outer stumbled backwards as his arm turned to dust at Reaper's touch. Reaper grumbled about missing his soul before swiping his scythe at Outer. Swap created a barrier of bones to block the attack, then grabbed Outer to teleport him away. Swap looked him over as Outer breathed in and out quickly, his very life flashing before his eyes at coming so close to death. Reaper's touch was deadly so he got extremely lucky that the grim reaper only grabbed his arm.