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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years ago

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Please Fix the Story pt 2 - Zombie Apocalypse

Hey everyone, here is a continuation to the the fix it fic Reverse harem short story I posted a few days ago!

Part one linked here.

(FYI although it is a different world, the main character as well as Liam are the same people. As stated at the end of the first part, Liam cannot bring along any memories from prior worlds)

Enjoy!

__________________________

GRRRR!

I looked around at my surroundings as I arrived in the new world, trying to catch my bearings.

Broken down buildings, abandoned cars, no people around and zombies about to attack… yep, definitely a post-apocalyptic setting.

I was in the middle of a city road, surrounded on all sides by tall, buildings with shattered windows, exposed beams and hanging wires. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I felt the unsettling atmosphere slowly settle over me. There was a strange silence to the world, the absence of people talking, cars honking, electronics beeping. There was just the wind, my breathing and silence…

GRRR.

…and the growls of the twenty or so zombies slowly approaching me.

I climbed up on an abandoned car, trying to catch my bearings. The movement tore at the four or five wounds that were scattered over my body, forcing out a groan of pain.

Multiple bruises, possible broken ribs, several cuts to arms and legs that still have broken bits of glass in them… it’s like I’ve been in a bar brawl.

It was always frustrating before I could accept the memories of my character and the world setting. I had no idea where I was, how I had gotten here, and more importantly what my mission was.

First things first, I need something to defend myself with.To my pleasant surprise, a quick survey of the area revealed a backpack that looked full and a sword resting on the ground nearby.

I jumped down, biting my lip to hold back a cry of pain at the motion, and quickly pulled the backpack on, unsheathing the sword and looking at it. It looked like something out of a museum, with an ornate gold plated hilt and a long, slightly curved blade. The weight and length were just at the limit of what this current body could bear, and I gave the sword a few practice swings with a grin.

Wonder how my character got a hold of a sword… this body doesn’t seem like one that practices fencing.

Putting my questions out of my mind, I held up my sword, centering my thoughts and bringing my heart into focus, just as I had trained in the past.

Fortunately, one of the previous story worlds I had lived through since the day I woke up without memories had been an assassin novel. The mission had been difficult; protecting the assassin’s guild from destruction after the hero left them behind to chase the heroine on an adventure. The author had regretted destroying his beloved family and guild members, and abandoned the novel. So I was tasked with spending years training weapons skills in the group, finally fighting against the rogue gang that attacked and defending the hero’s family in his place. Completing that mission had taken seven years in total, but on the bright side I had gained a good amount of fighting experience.

I closed my hand over the familiar weight of a sword in my palm. Time to start a new world.At the thought I felt a pang of loneliness and couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile bitterly. How is it that I’ve spent years and years in some of these worlds, and they still didn’t manage to move my heart as much as four weeks spent in a silly high school romance novel world?

“Liam.” I whispered quietly, opening my eyes with a sigh. He had so easily bypassed my defenses, making me care about him to the point that I had hesitated about moving on to the next world.

I have to keep moving forward, it’s my only hope of recovering my memories and going home.

Grrrr.

Thinking about the world and people I had left behind had depressed my mood, but thankfully, an outlet for my emotions had just presented itself on a silver platter.

“Time for some emotional therapy… by killing zombies.” With a smile I put away all stray thoughts and feelings, suppressed any sensation of pain or fear. There was only me, my sword, and the targets to destroy.

I was ready.

Silent, I sprang forward, my sword raised.

My first slash cut off the nearest zombies arm, the sword slicing through the rotten meat and brittle bones with ease.

Thud.

The arm hit the ground with a dull sound. The zombie’s wide, lidless eyes stared down at the detached limb for a few moments, as if confused, before turning back towards me with renewed energy.

GRRR.

Right, undead. Cutting off limbs won’t do much. So let’s try decapitation.

Ducking under the zombie’s remaining arm, I straightened up behind the monster and aimed this time for the neck.

This time both head and body fell to the ground, and became still.

Success!

The rotten blood and flesh dripped onto my hand from the stained blade. Disgusted, I swung the sword back and forth, which only served to scatter the remnants in the air, releasing a horrific smell. I gagged, forcing myself to breathe through my mouth and leaping at the nearest zombie with a snarl.

“This is so gross!”

SLICE! Two zombies fell to the ground on either side of me.

“I hate this world so much!”

Swish! Slice! THUD!

“WHAT IF THERE’S NO RUNNING WATER AND I CAN’T SHOWER?!!!”

A zombie’s growl cut off suddenly as the head flew out into the distance.

“I don’t even know what the mission is, but it already SUCKS!”

Letting out my frustration, I took out the remaining zombies, standing in place in a puddle of goo, my breaths coming in an out with a harsh gasping sound as my out of shape body tried to catch up with the practiced movements I had just put it through. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, breathing caused sharp pains as my broken ribs protested and made their presence known.

I was injured, I was tired, and I was covered in zombie guts.

I want to go home.

But I didn’t know where home was.

Feeling sorry for myself, I sat down on the ground, pulling out my phone and checking the mission.

“This better be a quick one.”

As I pulled up the familiar screen the first thing I noticed was a notification.

**** CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE LEVELED UP!****

“… Pardon?”

As you continue to complete world missions in an efficient and satisfactory manner, you will gain experience and level up the mission system, allowing you additional benefits and assistance.

A small experience bar glowed at the bottom of the notification, with only a sliver of the space filled in and a large number “2” next to it.

“It took TWELVE worlds for me to get to level 2?!” I fought the desire to throw my phone with rage, and continued to read.

With your new level, you have unlocked key character descriptions and world map in the mission app! As well as… other benefits!

“…” I stared at the screen silently. Why do I feel like this thing is just messing with me now?I’m just going to ignore this. It’s too rage inducing.

I clicked through the message and moved on to the mission description.

**** NEW WORLD: WAR OF THE UNDEAD ****

This post-apocalyptic zombie infested story follows Eric, a young man with a military background and the will to fight as he survives the end of the world. By his side is the love of his life Hannah, who holds his hand through the uneasy tides of crumbling social structures, horrifying monsters and evil villains.

Complaints about the story were rampant as the heroine of the novel was deemed “useless” with no discernable skills, often getting kidnapped and wreaking havoc for Eric to clean up after. Unable to balance the two main leads, the author finally gave up and never finished the story, leading to the world’s instability and eventual destruction.

The Author’s wish, and your mission, consists of two parts: First, help the heroine develop into a well-rounded character, able to stand on her own two feet instead of a two dimensional plot device designed to give the hero problems to solve. Second, help humanity establish a good foundation for a new society, leaving the story on a high note with hope for defending against the zombies.

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION?****

I glared at my screen, desperately wishing for a “decline” option.

HELP HUMANITY ESTABLISH A FOUNDATION?!!! HOW LONG IS THAT GOING TO TAKE??

I let out a sad moan, leaning against the broken car and staring up at the dull grey sky with a hopeless gaze.

How long do I have to live in this world and go without a hot shower?

I clicked Accept, my finger stabbing the screen angrily, accomplishing nothing other than a sore fingertip. The memories of my character rushed in, the splitting pain and confusion passing quickly as I accepted them with ease.

“… Well, I guess it could be worse.”

I was a small side character in this story, the spoiled princess of the hero’s group that caused trouble. Upon joining up with their team, she would constantly complain, wishing for luxury and pampering in a world where survival was the only priority. She was tolerated as she had brought with her a large bag of supplies from her family’s mansion, as well as an antique sword that she had taken off the wall as she left, but the goodwill of the hero and his friends quickly ran dry in the face of her spoiled personality and increasingly ridiculous demands.

Finally after several years and multiple fights, her character was kidnapped along with Hannah, the heroine. The hero was forced to choose one to save, and selected his loved one without hesitation. Even at the end her character believed she was too important to be killed, threatening her captors right up until they threw her into a pit of zombies.

It seemed as if I had started this world right after my character had abandoned her first team. They had gotten into a fight with a roaming bandit group, (which explained my current injuries) during which my character had escaped, leaving her teammates behind.

As the story moved on she would then meet up with the hero and his camp, joining and staying alongside them until her untimely demise.

Unfortunately it looks like one of the hero’s companions was a friend of this character, which will make it difficult to explain the large difference in the personality… Rubbing my headthoughtfully as I considered the problem, I finally gave up and sighed. Oh well, the apocalypse changes people, they’ll just have to accept it.

The phone in my hand vibrated once more, with surprise I glanced down at the new alert.

With your level up, you are able to change your character’s name to one of your choosing. All characters’ memories will be adjusted accordingly.

**** Select a character name? ****

I struggled internally with a sudden childish desire to name my character “ass-licker” or something equally stupid, just for the chance to hear everyone have to say it seriously.

But if I was going to spend a few years in this world… that would get old fast.

I slowly typed out a name, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“Blaire.”

My favorite world so far.A memory I wanted to keep with me.

I wonder what happened to Liam after I left? Before I could consider that thought too closely, a panicked scream broke the silence of the city.

“HELP!”

Following the distressed sounds, I entered a nearby building. In a large open area filled with broken concrete and other debris, a single young man was cornered by three zombies. He held a metal bar in his hands, which he was swinging wildly, barely keeping the monsters at bay. They were slowly crowding him into a corner, but seemed unable to reach any closer. The man continued swinging, all the while a constant stream of half-intelligible cursing and complaints escaping from his mouth.

“Damned traitor…. Make him regret… snap his neck… no that’s too good for him! … boiling… oil… funnel…!”

For all that this is a life threatening situation, why do I get the feeling he seems… like he’s having fun?

Shaking off the wayward thought, I rushed in, sword drawn, striking the zombies down with a few swings. As their heads tumbled to the ground, I kneeled down, using their shredded clothes to carefully clean the blade. As I looked up, I saw the startled face of the man I saved, and felt a moment of panic.

“Liam?”

After staring silently a few moments, I shook my head sadly

It wasn’t him.

He was older, taller, with a slimmer build. His hair, though a similar dark shade, was longer and roughly cut. His face was not the one in my memories, with a slimmer nose and a more pointed chin, but his eyes… they were the exact same shade of dark blue as Liam in the previous world. It was the eyes that had initially caused me to call out, the amused light in them so familiar it was as if he were still right in front of me.

But he wasn’t. I had left that world, and therefore Liam, behind.

“I’m sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

The man shook his head, his face still pale with shock. “Don’t be sorry! You saved my life!” He walked forward, holding out a trembling hand to shake. “I’m so glad you showed up when you did!”

I took his hand, trying to smile comfortingly. “Happy to help. Are you going to be okay? How’d you end up here all alone?”

“I got separated from my… friends.” He looked at me closely. “You’re such a strong person, I would have died without you! I know I’m weaker than you, and might be a burden but… would you… be willing to let me tag along until we get to camp?”

Poor guy, he still looks terrified.I patted him on the shoulder. “Of course.”

He sighed with relief. “Thank you. You’re my hero!”

I laughed at that. “Just call me Blaire.”

“I’m William! But you can call me Liam.”

“Liam?” I paused, unable to hold back from asking. “I’m sorry… but… have we met before?”

“Hmm… Unfortunately no, I would have definitely remembered you. But perhaps we were fated to meet?” His eyes were clear as he spoke, without any recognition. I frowned.

It can’t be the same person… but he’s just as weird as Liam from the other world, that’s for sure. Unable to shake the sense of familiarity, I sheathed my sword and gestured for him to follow.

“Let’s go.”

“Of course, savior of my life! I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth!”

“… Just to the camp is fine.”

As we stepped out into the street we were immediately confronted by the sight of a large group of tough-looking, scarred men, each carrying multiple weapons. As I tensed up, my hand on my sword hilt, the closest man in the group spotted us, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“BOSS! You’re still alive!”

I glanced back at Liam, who looked mildly annoyed.

“Boss! We killed the traitor and brought back the weapons he stole from you!”

Tossing out a duffel bag, the zipper was open enough to spot multiple guns, grenades and other deadly weapons.

“…”

We all stared at the bag in silence for a few moments.

“Boss?” I finally asked.

He gave an awkward grin. “It’s just a friendly nickname.”

“So I’m guessing you won’t need my protection on the way to the nearest camp.” Feeling mildly disappointed, I stepped away, preparing to leave. Only to pause at Liam’s panicked shout.

“Wait, no!” He stepped closer, waving his arms frantically. “I definitely need your protection! These guys are just joking! I’m actually quite a weakling, and desperately need someone strong like you to look after me.”

“What are you saying boss?” One of the goons interrupted. “You’re probably the most deadly man alive…”

THUD

A stone flew through the air, striking the man between the eyes, and knocking him to the ground.

“Shut. Up.” Liam hissed,

“OUCH! That hurt!”

“Now you tell this beautiful woman who saved my life and has promised to protect me how weak and helpless I am!”

The large muscular men all turned towards me, terror in their eyes.

“Boss is the weakest!”

“Definitely weak!”

“He needs protection!”

“He’d die without you!”

“…” I gave Liam a look. Do you really think I’d buy this?

His response was a shameless smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t drag you down! I’ll cook for you!”

“…”

“Run errands!”

“…”

“Do housework!”

I finally spoke up. “Really? You’d do all that?”

“Yes, I…”

“You can’t expect the Boss to act like a servant!!” One of the men burst out angrily, only to fly back as another stone struck him in the face. Another burly, scarred thug took his place.

“Ahem. What my friend meant to say is, Boss is highly skilled in all of these tasks. He’s great husband material!”

Liam gave the man a thumbs up. “Shark, you’re a smart fellow. You’ve just been promoted to my new right hand man!”

“Thanks Boss!”

“Now take care of things while my life savior and hopefully future wife escorts me back!” He grabbed the duffel bag, offering the contents to me before choosing a small handgun and a grenade for himself and handing the rest to Shark.

The man took the remaining weapons with a terrifying smile. “Definitely!” With a sharp whistle, he and the other men quickly turned around and ran away, dragging the injured man who had protested Liam taking on cleaning duties behind them.

“…” I watched this all with confusion. How did the title of future wife get added on to a simple request to escort him to camp?I almost told him to go away, but hesitated. Faced with his almost puppy-like look of anticipation I swallowed the words I was about to say, helplessly turning back in the direction of the hero’s camp. “Let’s go.”

__________________________

We traveled together for a few days, and I found Liam to be an entertaining companion. At each stop he would light a fire, cook a meal, and arrange the camp. Any offers to help were met with stiff resistance.

“You’re the one doing me the favor.” He answered once with a smile. “I’m just trying to support you!”

“…”

“You know…” He added nervously. “If you think that I’m useful… I’d be happy to work for you full time in exchange for your protection.”

“…”

“For example, if we got married it would be super convenient to bring me along as your support husband.”

I sighed quietly, rubbing my head. “You know we’ve only known each other three days right?”

“The great thing about that concern is that it becomes less relevant the longer we’re together!” He grinned briefly, before putting on a serious expression.

“You asked me once if we met before… and even though I know we haven’t I can’t shake the feeling that I know you. As if there’s a voice shouting from the depths of my soul, telling me that if I lose you I’ll regret it forever, but if I can stay by your side I’ll be the happiest man alive.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head. He reminds me so much of Liam spouting his minion nonsense. But if he’s the same person… how did he follow me here?

“By the way… if you thought that sounded poetic, I would like to add ‘well-spoken’ and ‘artistic’ to the lists of attractive traits that I bring to the table as a potential husband or even just a good lackey.”

“…” Let’s just ignore him and get to camp as soon as possible.

__________________________

We arrived at the camp. Fortunately our path had been fairly clear, we met very few zombies on our way. As we walked up to the camp entrance, and attractive man and woman met us, their expressions somewhat guarded.

“Who are you and why are you here?” The man called out.

I paused a good distance away to avoid seeming to threatening, and studied him closely. He looked to be in his mid twenties, with close-cropped hair and classically handsome features. He had a gun at his hip, and a knife close to his hand, obviously ready to respond to any danger.

Smells like a male lead.

I held up my hands, showing that they were empty of weapons and tried to appear friendly.

“I’m Blaire. I’ve recently split from another roaming group and was hoping to join your camp here.” I carefully put my backpack of supplies on the ground and opened it, showing off the contents. “I’ll share some of my supplies. I’m also decent with a sword, and can add to your fighting force.”

The man looked both me and the bag over carefully. “I’m Eric.” He finally spoke up, his expression slightly more relaxed. He pointed at Liam who still stood next to me. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Liam, her lackey!” He announced before I could say something. “Also hopeful suitor.”

“Are you joining as well?”

“Of course!”

I glanced over at him. “What about your gang?”

“What gang?”

“…”

“… Those punks you met earlier? They’ll be fine.”

I sighed and turned back towards the hero of the story. “So what’s your answer?”

He watched us both, obviously thinking carefully. “On a trial basis.” He turned around, carefully protecting the delicate young woman next to him. She was petite, barely coming up to Eric’s shoulder, and had a fair complexion already turning red in the sun. Her eyes were large with an innocent light in them, as she stared at me with a nervous look.

This must be Hannah, our heroine. She definitely seems… easy to kidnap. So helping her become a well-rounded character is mission number one, huh? I followed behind them, my mind racing with plans to help turn her into a force to be reckoned with in this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

This is going to be fun!I rubbed my hands together, a villainous laugh escaping me.

Liam poked my arm, whispering. “Blaire, although I personally think your evil laugh is wonderful, and I could listen to it all day… I feel like I should warn you that you’re scaring the young girl over there.”

I paused, catching Hannah’s terrified expression, and tried to give her a reassuring smile. In response her face turned even more pale under her sunburn, and she hugged Eric tightly as if wanting to escape.

“Was my smile that terrifying?” I leaned over towards Liam and asked quietly.

“I’m the wrong person to ask. I find your strength and ability to intimidate the masses vastly reassuring.”

“Thanks… I guess.”

I followed the lead characters into the camp silently, Liam following close behind me.

It was time to save the story.

And… hopefully find a way to shower.

#writing #fantasy #world hopping #zombies #violence

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diyunho · 4 years ago

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The Joker x Reader - “Ashes”

After The Joker’s daughter accidentally drowned, his relationship with Y/N fell apart: they were guilty of failing to protect what they loved, blaming each other and themselves to the point of no return. The sole palpable proof of Emma existence is her ashes encapsulated in glass pendants her parents wear and that’s hardly a memento able to help in such a difficult situation. Ashes are not meant to bring people together.

“Happy Birthday, Pumpkin Pie,” The Joker grumbles. “Here’s Charlie: I thought you would like to see him,” he places the purple hippo on Emma’s headstone.

Today his daughter would have been 4 years old. Instead of the usual party filled with laughter and presents he’s at “Eternal Peace” cemetery early in the morning for a different kind of festivity.

J never celebrated birthdays before yet once she showed up in his life the anniversary got a fresh new meaning: Y/N ensured that The King of Gotham was aware of how lucky they both were to have her. And he did learn to care about that tiny being he created who first called him something similar to “dada”, then a cute “da’y” and finally the word he craved to hear every single day until she was gone: “daddy.”

Being a father thought him a couple of things, but the most important was quite stunning: the index finger from his right hand wasn’t only meant for using a trigger; it was also his child’s soother.

Emma would keep it prisoner when she slept from an early age; of course all babies do it although in this case it didn’t go away once she got older.

And he misses that…

A lot.

Actually, he would give up on a robbery or anything that involves him holding a gun if she could clutch to his finger one more time.

That’s how much he misses The Princess.

“Sir, sorry to interrupt,” Frost gets him out of trance. “There’s movement at the South gate. We have to go…”

J snatches the plush animal and follows Jonny on a path behind the crypts when a woman walking on the alley leading to Emma’s grave catches his attention: although she has a red wig and sunglasses on, her disguise doesn’t fool him. It’s Y/N.

She’s carrying a small cake and intensely stares at the pavement, unaware of her surroundings.

The Joker can’t really tell what she’s doing once in front of the tomb, nevertheless he guesses she’s singing “Happy Birthday” while wiping the tears strolling down her cheeks.

He didn’t see Y/N in about 4 months. They went to the cabin by Moon Lake after Emma’s drowning and things were so rough he left immediately. She never followed, called or texted.

J didn’t either.

Why bother? They were guilty of failing to protect what they loved, blaming each other and themselves to the point of no return.

Today is extremely difficult to deal with, especially since the catalyst binding them vanished forever.

The sole palpable proof of Emma existence is her ashes encapsulated in glass pendants her parents wear and that’s hardly a memento able to help in such a difficult situation.

Ashes are not meant to bring people together.

***************

After 2 Hours

“Hi,” The King of Gotham drags his feet on the porch and takes a sit on the chair next to yours.

“Hi…” you whisper, surprised to spot him after such a long absence.

Complete silence, then he utters:

“I’m here for the cake,” he points at the sweet treat resting on the wood table: vanilla- strawberry combo, your daughter’s favorite.

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I crave the taste…”

You lean over and cut two slices, sharing Emma’s birthday cake with her dad. It’s really painful to swallow the morsels knowing your baby can’t; it seems J is in the same boat.

“I can’t make anybody happy…” The Clown mumbles under his breath and the randomness of his statement makes you wonder what’s going on in his mind.

“Me neither… Sweet Pea was happy, wasn’t she? She was a happy kid…”

The Joker moves his plate towards you, hissing:

“She was and she would still be with us if instead of flirting you would have watched her!”

“… … W- what?!...” you glare at him, astonished he has the nerve to pop up and hurt you in such a manner. “Since when talking to somebody is flirting?! Where were you, huh? Where were you??? In your goddamn office plotting more schemes in order to get more money because nothing is enough!” you raise your voice and burst out crying in the next second. “She was ours to protect, the only treasure that mattered! I just… I just took my eyes off her for a few moments, I had no idea my baby was drowning in that pool …” you keep sobbing at the horrible memory, heartbroken. “I could have save her…Why didn’t I…?…”

The Joker can’t understand what you’re saying anymore, yet he doesn’t reply to your accusations or remorseful confessions.

How could he?

He’s equally responsible for Emma’s demise but it’s easier to attack her mother.

You abruptly get up and rush inside the cottage, abandoning J to his own demons. He doesn’t know if he should bail or stay, thus he continues to gaze at the lake numb to everything.

Still… The quietness is becoming unbearable so he finally gathers the strength to stand up and search for you.

“Y/N?...” he shouts. “Where are you?”

Silly question since the cabin is a little area with a kitchen/living room combo, one bedroom and bathroom: easy to find what you’re looking for.

No response but the shower is on which queues him Y/N must be there.

The Joker approaches the bathtub, unwilling to remove the curtain and talk to you face to face.

“It was my fault too…” he admits a fact that tormented him since the accident. “I should have kept an eye on her… I couldn’t predict she’ll sneak out to play by the swimming pool… I would give away a fortune if I could fix it… Do you believe me?...”

You sniffle and cover your mouth, trying to avoid his trap: if you engage, he will probably bite more and that’s the last thing you need.

“I have Charlie in the car; I thought you might want him tonight,” J reveals the true purpose of his visit. “Drop him off tomorrow at 3pm, I’ll be at the warehouse on 17Th Street. You can’t have the toy, it belongs in her room…”

You hear his steps receding and gasp for air, completely crushed by despair: the agony of grief is stronger than any consolation a stupid purple hippo could offer.

But it was Emma’s favorite and The Joker is willing to share a token of what you both lost; now that you think about it… you really missed Charlie…

**************

Next Day, 2:05pm

“Where’s everybody?” you mutter whilst entering the code at the gates. Usually there are at least 8 henchmen guarding the fence and no sign of them so far. You drive up the unpaved alley, curiously checking out the landscape: same trees, bushes and trucks you’re familiar with, except you can’t discern a single goon patrolling the perimeter.

You honk to get the crew’s assistance without any success and you wonder if The Joker tricked you; I mean, you should have seen it coming: he is probably attempting one of his convoluted strategies to punish you for the tragic past.

You stop in front of the building, intrigued to notice it appears deserted.

Suddenly, a powerful blast shakes the ground and you watch part of the roof collapsing on the north side; a few windows shatter also.

You jump out of the car, totally confused at the strange occurrence.

“Hello?” you yell. “J???”

There’s smoke coming out of the opened metal door and you hesitantly walk in the warehouse, coughing at the suffocating odor.

“J?...” you scream. “J!!!!!”

A faint knock in the distance prompts your attention.

“Y/N!!”

“J??” you run towards the source of the noise only to find him under rubble next to the south entrance. “Oh my God!” you kneel by his feet buried under bricks. “What happened?!” The Queen frantically removes debris as he groans in pain.

“Explosives, that’s what happened. Shit, I think I fucked up my legs!”

“Where are the guys??!!” you inquire, managing to free his feet enough for him to move.

“I gave them the day off,” The Joker’s explanation puzzles Y/N. “Hurry up, please!! Another detonation will follow shortly!”

“Jesus Christ!” you quicken the pace and push the last bricks out of the way. “Can you stand?”

J rolls on his side, unable to comply.

“No, you’ll have to haul me out of here!”

“Come on!” you place your hands under his underarms and start pulling. “The exit is right there!”

You huff while straining to get to safety as The Clown aims to aid by lifting his body off the ground as much as he can.

“Behind the truck!” he urges once you’re out of the premises and you barely have time to hide behind the vehicle when a second bang levels half of the construction.

“This didn’t go according to plan,” J admits in a low tone, panting a storm after the ordeal.

You asses his wounds, pressing on the ankle and he immediately growls.

“The bone’s fractured,” you wipe your sweaty forehead. “What plan?”

“It’s actually your fault for all of this; I told you to swing by at 3 o’clock. You’re early!”

“Huh?”

“You were supposed to come when I told you then boom! Before you reached the building it would go up in flames: you would flip thinking that I’m dead and then I’ll show up and ask you to come back home. You would be so excited to see I’m alive you couldn’t refuse. Yet you ruined everything: you appeared out of nowhere, I panicked and messed up: you know I’m not good with this stuff!!”

You can’t even process the plot he’s throwing your way.

“What kind of plan…”

“I just told you I’m not good at this stuff,” he interrupts. “You know I’m not.”

You touch your chest, baffled at the ridiculous story.

“My pendant!” you exclaim when you realize the chain is not around your neck anymore. “It’s gone!” Y/N desperately searches the grass. “My baby, where’s my baby?” you part the green lawn on the verge of crying. “I can’t find my pendant! Maybe I dropped it the building,” you whimper and prepare to flee when J grabs your jeans, firmly holding on.

“Don’t go; the poles might cave in and whatever is left standing will squash you!!”

You don’t comprehend why he’s so worked up and his plea catches you off guard:

“Don’t go! I’ll give you half my ashes, ok?”

The Queen debates on The King’s proposal, conflicted by his candid offer.

After all, if ashes tear people apart, how come they can’t bring them back together?