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jinx-xxed · 5 months ago

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Chasing the Light

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N: Kylo Ren my one and only 🤞 I have a lot of stuff I can post about him so stay tuned (hopefully)

Summary; Your nightmares become your reality when the man who’s been terrorizing your mind finally appears before you to see who you really are.

Content; AFAB reader (barely mentioned), reusing some scenes from Rey (sorry queen), Force user hunted by Kylo Ren, mind probing, fight scenes

Wc; 3.2k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Your dreams have become haunted.

Haunted by darkness, haunted by the screech of an unstable, red blade. Haunted by a dark helmet, visor rimmed in silver, cape wavering in the wind. The figure appears in flashes, darkness surrounding him so thoroughly that it’s suffocating. The scene is different each time; once it was on a rain soaked field, bodies of those cut down by that blade laying around your feet. Another, you were in a forest where it was cold and harsh. Whoever it is, he knows you’re there. He’d came for you once, lightsaber brandished, like he wanted to cut through you before the dream ripped you away. You wake up in a cold sweat each time, a deep panic settled into your bones that follows you for the rest of the day and makes you dread the coming night.

So that’s why, when those dark ships blot the sky, you know what it means.

“Go, take my ship at the end of town and get as far away from here as you can.” You say sternly, ushering your family towards the back door of your home. The streets are in a panic, people running about as darkness descends, desperate to escape. “Try to get to Atrisia, the coordinates are already set into the system. You’ll be safe there.”

Your mother turns in your grip, her hand cupping your cheek, brows creased. “Come with us, my firelight. Please.”

You hesitate, eyes tracing her face as if you can burn it into your memory. Hair like yours, lines on her skin marking her age, bright eyes—eyes wet with tears. You lean into her touch, your hand eclipsing her own, her skin warm and calloused. A sigh blows through your nose, eyes closing briefly to hold back what you feel building at the edges. “I can’t, momma. It’ll only put the rest of you in danger.” Your voice is quiet, like it’s not even yours.

“I don’t care! Don’t make me leave you!” She begs, clinging to the off-white fabric of your robes.

Your father gently pulls your mother away before you break. The whir of engines can be heard outside. “Come on, dear, we need to get going.” He keeps an arm around her, whispering things into her ear. Something about how they knew a day like this would come.

You sniff harshly and bring them in, trying your damndest to wrap your arms around your mother, father, and brother. “I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll find my way back to you as soon as I can.” You try to make yourself believe your own words too. You look at them all one last time as the ground begins to shake. You practically push them out of the door. “Go, go! Please.”

You ignore your mother’s protests as you turn away, hurrying towards the front door. You rip it open, looking to the sky and watching the TIE fighters come screaming in. They’re already shooting, blowing holes in the earth and sparking flames to life. They’re not targeting civilians yet, instead firing off target on purpose, like an intimidation tactic. Your teeth grit, anger boiling in your blood. These intruders, these murderers that act more robot than human, coming to my home and ripping everything apart.

A TIE fighter explodes in the sky right above you.

You jolt, broken out of your haze as smoking metal falls to the ground. Shit. Shit, shit, shit-! You did not mean to do that. You practically just put a massive beacon on you, telling these bastards that what they’re looking for is here. You feel a strange buzzing in the back of your mind, an intimidating pressure, something that’s oddly familiar and has you wincing. You recall your dreams—the ones that have caused you so much terror for the past two weeks—and panic flares up, worse than it already was. Your lightsaber feels like it’s burning a hole into your side.

You break into a run towards the trees just as a massive ship touches down. A command ship.

Your breath comes in desperate pants to your lungs as twigs snap beneath your boots, underbrush catching on your robes as you shove it aside. Maybe, maybe if you can just get far enough away, if you keep running, they won’t find you. Or, you can at least draw them away from the town—away from the people you’ve known all your life. You can only hope and pray to whatever gods may be watching over you that your family made it out of here safely.

That pressure you felt only grows the further you get, which only serves to confuse you. It should be the opposite, so why-

A red lightsaber ignites before you.

You jump back in fear, entire body tensing as his dark form emerges from behind a tree. He’s huge, both in height and build, looming over you with muscles encased in the darkness of his uniform. There’s a hood pulled over his helmet, resembling something like death itself, that same silver rimmed visor catching the sunlight. Kylo Ren, something in your mind hisses like a warning, Commander of the First Order. Jedi killer. Your breath hitches in your throat. “How did-“

“You. You’re the one I keep seeing.” His voice is low, made lower by the way it crackles through the modifier in his helmet. He takes a step forward, you take two back. “Why?”

“How the hell should I know?” You snap, teeth bared. You know just how precarious this situation is, with him being a hardened soldier trained in the Dark Side and you being… nothing of that sort. You can feel your Force powers clash, smacking against one another as he tries reaching forward and you recoil. He wants into your head, but you refuse to give it to him, using your Force like a shield against his sword.

Blue is fighting red before you can register what’s happening.

Your lightsaber is secure in your hand, blue blade coming out to defend against his red. Little bits of plasma spit from cross guards he has built into his handle, making it look like nothing you’ve ever seen before. His blade sputters and crackles, made unstable by some type of injury within the kyber crystal that powers it. Dealing with such a damaged crystal can be incredibly dangerous and volatile; you’d have to be insane to willingly use one.

He’s strong, but you expected no less. You struggle against his saber, hands shaking from the force. He moves you back with ease, boots skidding against the dirt of the forest floor. He jerks suddenly, twisting his saber to bring yours forward and grip your wrists into immobility. “Where did you get something like this?” He demands, his helmet tilting ever so slightly towards your weapon.

“I made it, you ass-“ you snarl, kicking one leg out and forcing him away so you can widen the distance between the both of you. It’d taken you almost two years to get a hold of all the parts you needed to make your own lightsaber. The Force had guided you through the process, willing your weapon into creation without the usual guidance you’d get from a Jedi master. It’d been a struggle, that’s for sure.

He comes at you again, swinging up from your feet towards your face, making you bend backwards to narrowly avoid it. He moves quick, with the efficiency and deadliness of a warrior. You’re able to hold your own—barely—parrying hit after hit, retaliating where you can and moving your body in tandem with his attacks. The trees around you become scarred from your battle, gashes glowing orange burned into the bark. You spin around, putting your arms up to put your lightsaber against your back to block one of his swings and then twisting around to catch him on his thigh.

He grunts in pain, distracted for the briefest of half seconds, and you take your chance. You bring your leg up, swiveling on your other foot to knock him in the side and then the stomach, but when your bodies connect, your mind suddenly spins, and you’re no longer in the forest. You feel like you’re suspended in some type of unfamiliar space, overwhelmed with emotions and memories. Fear, anger, hurt, betrayal; the consoling voice of a mother to a young boy, a promise of better things, the whisper of dark voices.

You choke on your breath as your back slams against the ground, bones seeming to rattle from the force. Kylo Ren stands over you, shoulders hunched, body shaking as his breathing comes as ragged gasps through his modifier. You look at him with wide eyes, lightsaber on the ground next to you, with no idea about what in the hell just happened.

“How did you do that?” His tone is almost feral, deep with a tremble to the back of it, like he’s… scared.

“I- I don’t-“ you stutter with your words because truthfully, you have no clue either. It’s like when you touched him, you broke through his Force and saw into his mind without even meaning to.

“You need a teacher, someone to show you the ways of the Force.” He insists, taking a step towards you. He extends his free hand. “You’re untrained but stronger than you know. Let me help you-“

You smack him away, scrambling to your feet and gripping your lightsaber. “I will never take help from the likes of you.” You spit. “I won’t let myself become a monster like you have.”

He stiffens, like your words snapped him back into the cold, unfeeling murderer he’s supposed to be. You feel his anger simmering, coming off of him in waves. His fists clench. “We’ll see about that.” And then he’s on you again, faster than you can react, stronger than you’re prepared to handle. You try to retaliate; you block and you parry and you dodge beneath the screech of his saber, but it’s not enough. That lack of training and lack of fighting spirit comes back to bite you in the ass, earning you more than a few nicks and bruises. What seemed like a proper fight before now just becomes unfair and he knocks you down with ease, making you wonder if he was just holding back earlier. Your body slumps against a tree, bark biting into your back, vision wobbling as your consciousness is tugged and pulled away from you. Blood trickles down into your left eye, your head hits the forest floor; the last thing you see before the world fades is his black boots walking towards you.

» ☆ «

The cold makes a home in your bones.

Everything is stiff and heavy, like you couldn’t move your limbs even if you tried—and you did try, which is how you discover you’re strapped to some kind of device that’s more of a flat metal board than it is a chair. It’s like a torture device you’d see in history books. Panic floods through you, fully waking up your systems and sending them into overdrive. The grogginess is gone in an instant, and the memories of what got you into this situation come flooding back. Lightsabers, sparks flying, the Force, seeing into his mind, dark helmet, dark cape, dark, dark, dark- you jerk your wrists and ankles, making a desperate attempt to get yourself out of the cuffs holding you in place. You ignore the bite in your muscles, the ache of the wounds littered across your skin; you can feel the dried blood on your forehead.

“I wouldn’t waste my energy on that,” a voice speaks, low and mechanic and familiar.

Your breath hitches, your body tenses. There’s heavy, intimidating footsteps on the polished metal flooring before Kylo Ren rounds the chair, walking around you, gloved hands behind his back while not properly looking at you. You lurch forward on instinct, cuffs digging roughly into your wrists, teeth snapping and a harsh growl rumbling in the depths of your throat like a rabid animal. “I’ll kill you, I swear to god I’ll fucking kill you-“

You hear him huff, though faint through the modifier. “Quite the fiery temper for a supposed Jedi.”

You relax in your seat, trying to return neutrality to your expression. “I’m not associated with the Jedi.”

That helmet turns to you then, and you feel his burning gaze behind the darkness of the visor. “You’re not?” Then he eases his shoulders back, rolling them, and decides to answer his own question. “No, you’re not. That would explain why you’re so unknown, so untrained.” You don’t like the way he says “untrained”, like it’s a disgrace of some kind to him.

He leans in suddenly, his form looms, darkness incarnate. He’s close enough that you can see each ding and scratch littered across his helmet’s surface, left battle-scarred and damaged on purpose. His head tilts slightly to the right, like that of a curious animal, and you continue to feel his eyes on you rather than see them. “Who are you?” He asks, tone neutral but you can hear a note of frustration behind it, like your existence is a nuisance. “Why do I keep seeing a nobody everywhere I go?”

You try to get away from him, but being strapped to a board doesn’t leave you with a lot of places to go. So instead, your body shifts, pressing uncomfortably into the back of your seat as your chin lifts. “I don’t know. It’s not like I want to see you either.” You snap. “I barely even know who you are.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead studying you. You hate the way it makes you squirm, only made worse by the fact you can’t see his face. He backs off and there’s a pause, like time is frozen, and then he reaches a hand forward, fingers slightly curled in. “If you won’t answer my questions, then I have other ways of getting what I want.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

It’s seconds after that you feel it.

Your entire body seizes, uncomfortably tense against your restraints as a buzzing begins in the back of your mind. It’s simple at first, like the drone of a fly, but it quickly grows in intensity from a buzz to a drum to a violent pounding, beating around your skull and making your ears ring. Your eyes screw shut and your chest heaves, your mind feeling like it’s being dug into and pulled apart by unkind fingers. Your nails eat into your palms, the tang of blood just barely whisking across your nostrils.

Memories are uncovered and brought forward against your will, appearing in flashes and whirs of voices. The first strawberry harvest of the season, your mothers laughter, your fathers stupid jokes, your brothers stern yet comforting silence, the time you broke your leg falling out of a tree. Those kind are shoved aside quickly, though they fill most of the space where memories are stored; he doesn’t want those ones. Sweat drips down the side of your face, mouth open as you pant. Pain feels both so acute and so distant, like you’re half in and half out of your own body.

You’re tossed through memories like you’re within an ocean, barely able to stay afloat as you’re tugged one way and then the other. The first appearance of the Force, the way it’d shot out from you without control, the fear you’d felt when it ended up injuring your brother. That one sticks for a while, made to replay over and over by the one controlling this ride that you so desperately want off of. Having to learn all alone, your only teachers being the books you had to buy from black markets, the isolation from your peers, your solitary journey to Ilum, the construction of your lightsaber. The loneliness that has built over years and years surges up, taking over your senses, amplified by the pain you feel.

“You’ve been by yourself all this time. No one’s ever understood you.” Kylo says curiously. His hand tilts slightly, like he’s turning a knob. “You hid yourself away, you felt terror at what you could do, simply because you didn’t understand it. You’ve denied who you are.” You would say something if you could, but any words you try to muster come out as choked air.

His head lifts just a hairsbreadth. “I see it. You want so badly to learn, but you have nobody to show you.” He breaths out. “And yet, somehow, you were able to compete with me. I don’t get it; you’re worthless. You’re a girl from a nowhere planet with a nobody family, a family that would’ve betrayed you in the end anyway. Your powers would grow to overwhelm you because you don’t know what to do, and they would cower away, scared of their own daughter.” There’s something about the way he says those words, like there’s a familiarity to them that runs deeper than the surface. Like he’s said them before, heard them before.

Fire rages beneath your skin, threatening to tear you asunder, your eyes starting to roll. This is not what the Force should be used for—this pain, this display of power. Or maybe it is, maybe those books you used only ever showed one side of the story. There was always a mention of balance, the light unable to exist without the dark. As memories become skewed and watery in your mind, delirious with agony, you begin to realize you don’t know anymore. Your thoughts no longer feel like your own, so scrambled and incoherent that you’re unsure if you’re even able to think properly at all. His hand withdraws suddenly, like he’s been burned, and everything ceases completely. Your body goes slack, your head lolling, but there’s at last silence in your mind.

His fingers rub together as he contemplates something. “You have a great amount of potential, strength that can be brought out with the right training. Leader Snoke will be interested in you.” He mutters. “I feel the Dark Side within you, it’s what you were meant for. So easy to anger and hatred, consumed by your isolation, it will make you more powerful than you could ever imagine.”

You shake your head, but the action is weak. Your words are forced, sapping the last of whatever remaining energy you have. “N..No, no, I won’t- I won’t join you-“

He hums, as if considering your answer, his hands clasping behind his back. “I wonder what your family would think about that? Atrisia, was it?”

You jolt, ignoring the way your muscles smart, lunging forward as your exhaustion is replaced with a pure, snarling anger. It’s just what he wants, but you can’t find it in you to care. “You stay the fuck away from them, you monster-“

“Then I believe we’ve come to an agreement.” He says, helmet seeming to gleam with his cruelty. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to fight someone so badly before, even if fighting him is what got you here in the first place. He turns, typing something into a data-pad built into the wall. “Course will be set to see Leader Snoke shortly. Enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

You don’t get a chance to spit a final fuck you before he’s disappeared and the doors are hissing shut behind him.

#I love him so so so much #I hope this is alright #I wanna post more!!!#Star Wars #Star Wars x reader #Star Wars fanfic #kylo ren x reader #Kylo ren #Kylo #Kylo ren fanfic #Kylo fanfic #Kylo x reader #Kylo x you #Kylo ren angst

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that-house · 11 months ago

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Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

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I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.