Gold and Red [Law × Reader, Kid × Reader]

Seventeen (Both)

"I don't understand," you whisper, freeing your hands, then linking them together to ease their shaking. "You are making no sense."

The thing starts rocking back and forth, tilting its head, the ebony hair flowing around it as if it were in water.

It feels both young and ancient, emitting an ambiance that wouldn't be able to exist outside of the globe of your dreams.

You try to hide your dread that never lets you go since you saw a child's vision inside the beast, only for a moment.

The dark matter that forms the creature seems to adapt to your sight, slowly altering.

Second by second, it takes more after your face and features, a broken, distorted mirror, cursed to never reach the peace of its ideals.

"Words are... hard," it whispers, hugging its knees suddenly. "I can't tell all."

It reaches for you with the clawed hand again, and you subconsciously touch your lower arm, which it has torn apart after dragging you here.

Even if it healed after taking care of your stabbed wound, the pain still lingers behind in your sanity, crucifying and harsh.

"If I listen to you, will you let me go?" you ask silently.

It grins and shakes its head, and your gaze drops to the ground. You need all your restraint not to detach yourself from the truth.

It talks about demise but can do much worse to you.

It can throw you into the dreams, torment you and play with you, or just split your mind in half over and over again until you lose relation to everything you love.

Out of all the horrors of your life, there has never been one so great.

"Give me your words," it demands, pushing its open palm closer.

You recoil as the fingertips barely graze your arm, and freeze after, as you feel a tremendous ache just from that bare touch.

As you watch its smile, you realize that it is warning you. You lost all your influence over your dreams, and it can hurt you easily if you disobey it.

You take a deep breath, and your eyes flicker, the ocean of dreams reflecting in them, an eternal and ethereal universe of time.

It is still mine to own.

When you pick up your sword and point it at its neck with a swift, precise twirl, the creature's smile dies as fast as yours lits up like your brother's blinding flames.

You press your blade against its skin until it opens.

You don't let yourself flinch as the black matter withdraws, and red blood flows out from under as if you have cut something behind.

It tries to make you lose your balance by showing it, you understand. It knows about your notion of that child who wore your face.

Maybe it only created it to push me into the corner.

You force your katana deeper into its neck, and it chokes, crawling back away from you. You follow it and keep your weapon aimed.

This thing has barely been born of whatever hatred gave it consciousness.

But it's still only learning to talk and is getting stronger by taking what I always fought for.

I won't let it.

I have people I love, whom I must return to.

You lean above it and start talking with a soft voice while tightening your hold around the hilt.