#so when he wakes up he gets the glorious view of gun smoking at the top

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park with Reader: Junkyard shenanigans

CH460 spoiler - no plot spoilers tho. G/N. Crack. Inspired by @razypie tag.

"Gun... Seriously?!"

You yell, squinting at the figure making its way higher and higher, up the heap of discarded units.

For a brief moment, his body stills then he continues on as if he didn't hear you.

Bastard.

At first that idiot tried to fucking jump. And yeah, he may be strong as shit but even Gun Park wouldn't be able to jump however the fuck high that is.

...Actually. You did think he could, but the way he fell back down, somehow still landing on his feet like a cat, made you cackle.

The furious look and 'fuck you' he threw your way did nothing to halt your laughter.

He would never admit it, but you reckon this is something to do with aesthetics. The 'cool' view of him smoking at the top.

Sure, it's not a pile of bodies like James Lee once sat upon (the impressiveness of that particular feat spread throughout all of Seoul and is still a sore point for Gun and Goo to this day.)

For Gun, you suppose, this pile of junk would have to do for now. Until he decides to fight some poor souls and recreate a higher and better mountain of victims to make himself a throne out of.

("Compensating for something? Yes your throne will be much much bigger than James Lee. Good for you, Big Boy." You had said to Gun when you were feeling particularly mouthy and brave. Luck was also on your side as you managed to dodge his kick aimed for your head.)

Goddamn. Sometimes you truly forget that he's only 20 years old and then he pulls shit like this.

That's not even considering his atrocious outfit. Topless with those brown track pants and loafers. How is he supposed to look cool wearing that? What was he even thinking?

Taking your phone out of your pocket, you click record to immortalise forever the image of Gun Park clambering up on all fours. Leg occasionally slipping like a dog trying to find purchase again.

Goo is going to get a kick out of this.

[grace13star]

Better Get Superstitious (Prologue)

Logan Dennison is a firm believer in science, and the facts are that no one can come back from the dead. Witches and magic could never exist, he's known this since he was a kid. But after a sudden move to Salem, Massachusetts, suddenly everything he's ever believed is challenged by a talking cat, a cute believer, and a trio of undead witches from the 17th century. What's a skeptic to do? 

Character(s): Roman Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remus Sanders, Anton (Antagonist), Missy (Misleading Compliment), Terrence

Trigger(s): Death, Deceit, Remus, electrocution, witchcraft

This is a Hocus Pocus AU, so Roman’s last name is Binx. Eventual Analogical, and that’s the only ship. 

AO3  Here  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Roman woke up later than usual, which was his first clue that something was off.

The sun was already up as he stumbled outside of his house, still disoriented from waking up. He held his hand up to block the light.

“Missy?” he called.

Come little children, I’ll take thee away. Into a land of enchantment.

“Terrence!” He said, spotting his friend. “Terrence, hast thou seen my sister?”

Terrence shook their head. “Nay, but look.” He pointed in the direction of the woods. “They conjure.” A column of strange purple smoke was rising from the Sanders cottage.

Roman straightened up, tiredness forgotten. “Oh God, the woods! Emily!” He started off for the woods, but Terrence grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving.

“She’s done for. You won’t have a chance.”

Roman shrugged Terrence’s arm off, giving his friend an apologetic smile. “Get my father,” he said. “Summon the others. I’ll try to distract them long enough.”

Terrence seemed hesitant, but patted his arm. “Good luck.” Then he started off to gather the village.

As soon as he was moving, so was Roman. He started off in a dead sprint, forgetting that he didn’t even have shoes. Rocks and sticks dug into his feet, but he barely noticed them in his panicked state.

One particularly big rock sent him tumbling down a hill. He gathered himself at the bottom. His ribs were hurting, but he didn’t have time for that now for right ahead of him was his destination- the Sanders cottage.

Biting back a hiss of pain, he ducked behind a tree, as one of the brothers was outside of the house with his sister.

As Roman watched, Missy followed the green-clad witch into the cottage. Once they were inside, he ran across the clearing to one of the open windows.

From inside the house came laughter- laughter from the Sanders brothers themselves. They all wore long velvet cloaks- yellow, green and orange. The green one was dancing like he was deranged around Missy, who was sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room.

She spotted him and sat up. The witches noticed, so Roman was forced to duck out of view.

One of the witches came over to the window he was at, and he held his breath.

“Oh, look. Another glorious morning.” A sound like an intake of breath. “It makes me sick!” The shutters were slammed, leaving Roman without a way to see in.

He looked around quickly, and spotted a water wheel. There was a window near the top of it, so he hitched a ride to the top, then entered the house with as much stealth as he could muster. He wanted to go in guns blazing, but he couldn’t risk Missy getting hurt. He ducked down to observe and wait for the right time.

The yellow witch was flipping through a book, ignoring his brothers as the green one fooled around and the orange one tried to get him to stop.

“We must finish this spell now that our guest of honor has arrived.” yellow was stroking a book like it was a dog. “Wake up now.”

As Roman watched, what had seemed like a latch on the cover opened revealing a yellow snake eye, mirroring the yellow witch’s own eye. It rolled a bit, looking all around the room.

“Anton, I definitely don’t need any help,” yellow said to the orange one.

Orange- Anton, apparently- rolled his eyes as he walked over to the cauldron. “I notice Remus isn’t helping,” he muttered.

Green- Remus- struck a dramatic pose, as if he’d been shot in the heart. “I’m hurt, Antie! I lured the child here, didn’t I? Didn’t I!”

“Don’t be quiet you two,” Yellow groaned. “Remus hath done his chore.” Then he turned back to his living book, either missing or ignoring when Anton dragged his thumb across his neck in a ‘you’re dead’ motion and Remus stuck out his tongue in retaliation. “Bring to a full rolling bubble. Then add two drops of oil of boil.”

Anton put the drops in as Yellow continued. “Six, but the hour with the herb that’s red. Turn three times, pluck a hair from my head. Add a dash of fox and a dead man’s toe. Don’t get a fresh one.” The last part was addressed at Remus who cheered and danced over to a box singing about dead men’s toes.

Roman tried not to gag as the green witch pulled out a human toe, sniffed it, announced, “it’s fresh!” and tossed it into the cauldron. Did they just have a collection? Where did they get them in the first place?

Remus threw a toe at Anton, and he threw it back, causing a toe throwing war until Yellow snapped at them.

“Will you two never stop that? I am definitely able to concentrate right now.”

“Sorry, Damien,” Anton and Remus chorused, sending each other dirty looks.

Suddenly Anton stopped in his tracks. He sniffed the air, turning round the room before stopping right at Roman’s hiding place.

“I smell a child,” he said, eyeing the balcony.

Damien gave a long-suffering sigh, putting his gloved fingers up to rub his wrinkled eyes. “What do you call that?” He demanded, pointing at Missy.

“...A child,” Anton muttered. Remus laughed at him and he sent a glare back.

“Whatever. Potion’s not done now,” Damien said, waving them all over. “Just need a bit of thine own tongue.” They all spit in the cauldron, making it steam and turn a bright green color. “Now just one taste and her life will be mine.” He paused. “I don’t mean, ours.”

He scooped up some of the potion and started towards Missy.

“No!” Roman shouted, standing up.

The brothers looked up in surprise.

“I knew I smelled a child,” Anton growled.

Damien shook his head. “It matters now. Get him!”

Roman leapt down from the loft and ran to the cauldron. He pushed with all his might, briefly wondering how he was able to do this without being burned, and managed to tip it over, spilling potion everywhere.

“No!” Damien shouted. “My potion!”

The witches were confused, so Roman took the chance and ran to Emily. He grabbed her sleeve, but before he could do anything else, pain hit him.

He fell to the ground in agony, the electricity running through him aggravating his bruises from earlier.

“Damien, look,” Remus said, clapping his hands. “The child!”

Roman’s vision was blurry, but he could see Missy was now glowing. He attempted to move, but his limbs wouldn’t respond to him. He struggled as much as he could, but he could do nothing as the witches advanced on his sister.

“Come now,” Damien said, reaching out his hands. The other two witches grabbed them, forming a line. “We shall share her.”

They started sucking in air, but instead of just air, the glowing around Missy went into their mouths. She started growing older before Roman’s eyes, even as he tried to get up.

Before too long she was old and gray, and the witches were now young. Roman stared in horror at his sister, who was sitting unmoving in the wooden chair. Was she-?

“I am beautiful!” Remus cried, dancing around again. “Boys will love me!”

“We’re young,” Anton said, smiling. The smile looked out of place on his face, and Roman shivered just looking at it. Luckily that meant he could start moving again. He pulled himself up on a ladder slowly.

“Well, younger,” Damien said deprecatingly. “But we’ll get younger as we suck the lives out of all the children in Salem.” He turned to Roman who was swaying on his feet, even with the ladder as support. “Let’s brew another batch.”

“You hag,” Roman spat with all the strength he could muster. “There aren’t enough children in the world to make thee young and beautiful.”

The three witches gasped. “Ooh, did you hear what he called you?” Remus whispered dramatically.

“Let’s just kill him,” Anton said. “We can get other children.”

Damien shook his head. “No. This one’s punishment should be more fitting.” He snapped his fingers and the book flew over to him. “Let’s see here.”

Roman watched in fear as the witch searched through the pages. He knew he wouldn’t be getting out of this one- he could barely stand and they and magic. He just hoped his death wouldn’t be in vain. Hopefully Terrence had been able to gather everyone so they could kill these witches and stop their terror once and for all.

“Perfect!” Damien slammed the book shut. “His punishment will not be to die, but to live forever with his guilt.”

Roman’s heart pounded as the witches started chanting. He could barely hear the words over the roar in his ears as pain filled his body. He could feel himself changing, and watched through blurry eyes as the witches seemed to grow, leering down at him as they finished their chant.

Soon a cat stood where he had last, a cat that hissed at the witches. Remus went in to pet him, but Roman swiped at him, claws out.

Suddenly there was pounding and shouting at the door.

“Open! Witches! Sons of Satan! Open this door!”

Roman’s heart leapt at the sound of his father’s voice. Father would make everything all right- he’d kill the witches, save Missy, change him back…

“Hide the child,” Damien ordered. Anton threw a shawl over Missy, then joined his brothers near the door.

“Witches? There are no witches here,” Damien called.

“Just three brothers spending a quiet night at home,” Anton added.

“Sucking the lives out of children!” Remus said gleefully. Damien growled at him.

The village was quick to put up the noose, especially after finding Missy’s body.

The witches were sentenced to hang that day, and soon enough they were standing on barrels awaiting their deaths.

“Damien Sanders,” Roman’s father said. “I will ask thee one final time.”

“Yes?” Damien said smoothly.

“What hath thou done with my son, Roman?”

“Hmm, I don’t recall,” the yellow witch grinned. “Cat’s got my tongue.” All three burst out laughing at that. Roman growled.

“This is uncomfortable,” Remus said, moving his head.

“Brothers, sing,” Damien demanded. What followed was the worst harmony Roman had ever heard. They weren’t bad singers, per se, but the notes they were singing did not go together at all.

“Cover your ears!” Roman’s father cried. “Listen to them not.”

The boy holding the witch’s book threw it down in his rush to cover his ears, and as Roman watched, the cover opened and the pages flipped.

The witches stopped singing as Damien cackled. “Fools! All of you!” He announced. “My ungodly book speaks to you. On All Hallow’s Eve when the moon is round, a virgin shall summon us from under the ground. Oh, we shall be back, and all the lives of the children will be mine!”

Roman’s father gave a signal and the barrels were kicked out from under the witches.

The crowd, including his father turned to leave, so Roman hurried over. He rubbed against his father’s leg, hoping he’d notice.

Unfortunately, he didn’t notice in the way his son was hoping.

“Away, you beast, away,” his father swatted at Roman, sending him off.

Roman watched him go with a mournful meow, mourning the loss of his sister and the life he once had.