The Unofficial Records

by Anonymous

Summary:

Because starting a whole new fic every time I write 2k words is chaos and I refuse to live like that. This is a collection of all the random bits, drabbles, and chaos that didn’t quite fit anywhere else.

Also yes this one’s going up anonymous because it’s full of my most unhinged and embarrassing stuff lmao. Unlike my other fics, no one’s gonna know it’s me :D

Chapter 1: The Omega with a Gun

Every precinct had its legend.

 

Some had stories of dead-eyed sharpshooters who could pick off a target in a sandstorm, others spoke in hushed awe about detectives who could solve a murder with just a grain of dust. But the 3rd Metropolitan Division had him.

 

Cha Eui-jae.

 

Omega.

 

And the most terrifying officer anyone had ever met.

 

It wasn't the kind of fear born from violence, not entirely. It wasn’t that he was particularly huge (he was barely 169 cm on a good day) or that he carried around an arsenal (though his standard-issue gun had a name, which was a red flag by any means). No, it was the way he looked at people like they were a minor inconvenience in his already doomed day. Like he was one breath away from snapping a femur and calling it “workplace stress relief.”

 

And today, fresh meat arrived.

 

“Lee Sa-young,” the officer at the front desk called, stamping something with half-bored authority. “Assignment: Special Crimes Division. You’ll be under Lieutenant Cha.”

 

Sa-young straightened, eager. “Cha Eui-jae? The Cha Eui-jae?”

 

“Yep,” the officer said, half a smirk tugging at his lips. “Good luck. Don’t piss your pants.”

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

Lee Sa-young had graduated top of his class at the academy. Ranked #1 in practicals. Once out-choked an alpha instructor in hand-to-hand and got away with a warning and a photo op. He was young twenty-four, cocky, and sharp as broken glass. And the idea of being assigned to the infamous Omega had ignited something foolish and competitive in him.

 

“Cha Eui-jae,” he repeated to himself as he stood at the edge of the squad room. “Omega or not, he’s still human. He breathes like the rest of us.”

 

Then he saw him.

 

Compact frame, messy black hair with fading roots hinting gray underneath, black cargo pants tucked into worn boots, a badge clipped on the inside of his coat like he didn’t give a damn about decorum. His sidearm was holstered backwards, because of course it was, and a silver switchblade sat snug against his thigh. His hoodie was police issue, half-zipped to show a Kevlar vest beneath. He wasn’t looking at anyone, but everyone was looking at him.

 

Alphas sat straighter. Betas shifted in their seats. Even Sa-young, newly minted and full of his own ego, felt it in his gut, a strange twist, like being called to the principal’s office for something he might do next week.

 

And then...

 

Their eyes met.

 

Eui-jae didn’t smile.

 

He just blinked. Once. Slow. Like a python deciding if it was hungry.

 

“I’m your new partner,” Sa-young said, stepping forward.

 

Eui-jae looked him up and down. Not in the slow, sultry way omegas were usually appraised but in a clinical, I could gut you and mop up before lunch kind of way.

 

Sa-young had prepared for many reactions. Dismissal. Jealousy. Maybe a backhanded compliment. What he didn’t prepare for was Eui-jae walking away without a word.

 

“You’re not gonna scare me,” Sa-young muttered as he followed him into the field van. “Just because everyone here thinks you’re some omega outlier doesn’t mean I will.”

 

Eui-jae glanced at him sideways. “You talk a lot.”

 

“You didn’t even say hi.”

 

“I don’t say hi to golden retrievers.”

 

Sa-young’s mouth opened. Closed. “Did you just—”

 

“Listen, fresh meat,” Eui-jae said, sliding into the front seat like he owned the entire department. “You’re gonna spend exactly one week wishing you were paired with literally anyone else, and then you’ll transfer or cry or both. So let’s skip the bonding arc.”

 

But Sa-young didn’t flinch.

 

Instead, he grinned. “I think I like you.”

 

Eui-jae turned the key in the ignition. “Everyone thinks that. Until I break their jaw.”

 

 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

There were rumors. Ugly ones.

 

That alphas fetishized him.

 

Called him “the rabid omega.” Talked in locker rooms about wanting to “tame” him. The power imbalance, the violence, the way he never went into heat thanks to suppressants strong enough to drop a horse, it made them feral. Something about seeing a “submissive type” acting dominant flipped a switch in their brains. It wasn’t admiration, it was obsession.

 

“I don’t get it,” Sa-young said one night over ramen, staring at the scar that ran along Eui-jae’s collarbone. “You’ve cracked a guy’s ribs, shattered another’s nose, flipped a full-grown alpha with one arm and still some of them jerk off to your personnel file.”

 

Eui-jae slurped his noodles. “They’re perverts. That’s the answer.”

 

“I’d be offended if I were you.”

 

“I was. Then I realized they’re more scared of me than they are turned on.”

 

Sa-young studied him. “Still weird though.”

 

Eui-jae smirked, finally. “You jealous?”

 

“Of their taste in freaks? Nah.”

 

That earned him a slow blink again. And then, unexpectedly, a dry laugh.

 

Sa-young didn’t want to be like the others. The ones who looked at Eui-jae and saw a puzzle or a kink or a thrill. He didn’t understand them. Couldn’t. How the hell could anyone lust after someone who looked like they were about to knife you for asking the time?

 

But maybe that’s what made Eui-jae magnetic. The paradox of him.

 

He was pretty. That was undeniable. His features were delicate but cold, like a porcelain statue carved with a scalpel. He didn’t smile much, didn’t flirt. He didn’t move the way omegas were expected to, no sway in his walk, no fluttering lashes, no submissive pheromones.

 

But he moved. God, he moved with purpose. Like every breath was rationed. Like survival had been a full-time job for so long that it rewired his soul.

 

And Sa-young… he hated how curious that made him.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

Their first bust was a joint op with the Alpha Task Force. Mid-level arms dealers, most of them ex-military. The kind who puffed their chests and called omegas “sweetheart” in passing.

 

“Eyes on the back entrance,” Eui-jae said, slipping his comms earpiece in. “I’ll take point.”

 

The squad leader, a tall, broad alpha named Han, snorted. “Maybe let one of the real officers lead this time, huh, sweetheart?”

 

Before Sa-young could even inhale, Eui-jae struck.

 

One fluid motion.

 

Grabbed the alpha’s wrist, twisted, slammed him face-first into the hood of the van with a sound that made someone gasp.

 

Eui-jae leaned in close. His voice, quiet. Dangerous.

 

“You call me sweetheart again, and I’ll make sure you breathe through a tube.”

 

Then he let go. Calmly. Walked away like he hadn’t just folded a guy in front of the team.

 

And that was the moment Sa-young realized:

 

He didn’t want to tame Eui-jae.

 

He just wanted to survive him and he was absolutely scared of him. 

Notes:

Me, once: “I would never write omegaverse.”
Also me: [posts this with suspicious speed]
Anyway, this is between us and God now.

Chapter 2: Method Acting, My Ass

The first time Lee Sa-young stepped foot on the movie set, the assistant director almost called security.

 

Almost.

 

But then he turned his head and saw who it was. And promptly decided he valued his life.

 

Because no one kicked out Lee Sa-young. Not even when he wasn’t supposed to be there. Not even when he stood in the middle of the studio, wearing a black turtleneck and combat boots, arms crossed like he was about to supervise an execution rather than a romantic drama.

 

And definitely not when his violet eyes locked onto Jung Bin with the intensity of a sniper scoping a target.

 

Jung Bin, for his part, looked annoyingly unfazed. The man had always been good at pretending nothing got to him. Calm, cool, with that damn “oppa charm” that made middle-aged fans swoon and left directors frothing at the mouth with gratitude.

 

It was only Eui-jae who visibly froze.

 

He was mid-line rehearsal, standing under soft stage lighting, wearing a crisp button-up and looking a little too good for Sa-young’s comfort. Maybe it was the hair, styled naturally today. Or the soft way he tilted his head when he said “You always come back to me, no matter what.”

 

Sa-young’s eyebrow twitched.

 

Eui-jae’s eyes flicked to him for a millisecond. Long enough. Just enough.

 

Sa-young smiled, baring his teeth like a wolf.

 

“You’re not in this movie,” Eui-jae whispered furiously later, dragging him by the sleeve into a supply closet that smelled like dust and fake blood.

 

“No,” Sa-young agreed. “But you are.”

 

“That’s not an argument—”

 

“It wasn’t one. I’m just stating facts. Want me to list more? Jung Bin is in it. You're playing his lover. The script has three kissing scenes. That’s three too many.”

 

“You read the script?”

 

Sa-young blinked. “Do I look like I’d let you shoot a romance with your ex without reading the script?”

 

“You also pulled the plug on the water tank yesterday so the emotional pool scene got delayed—”

 

“Oops,” Sa-young said flatly. “Must’ve tripped.”

 

“Tripped my ass. That tank was locked.”

 

“And now it’s drained. Tragedy.”

 

Eui-jae sighed like a man twenty years older. He looked tired. And guilty. And fond. He always looked like that around Sa-young.

 

“You really don’t trust me?” he muttered.

 

Sa-young scoffed, stepping closer until their chests nearly touched in the narrow closet. “I trust you.” His voice dropped. “It’s him I don’t trust. Don’t pretend he doesn’t still look at you like he wants to pick up where you left off.”

 

“He doesn’t.”

 

“He does.”

 

“Even if he did, I don’t want to.”

 

Silence. Then a muttered: “Still hate this.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Wish he’d get food poisoning.”

 

“You’re a terrible person.”

 

“Do you still love him?”

 

Eui-jae's breath caught. Just a little. Then his hands curled into Sa-young’s sleeves, tugging him closer.

 

“No,” he said. “I love you. You're the one I come home to. The one I want to come home to.”

 

Sa-young stared. Then, softer, “You’re still not kissing him.”

 

Eui-jae smiled, faintly. “You wanna sabotage the entire production, go ahead. But I’m going to finish this movie. Professionally. Even with you death-glaring him through the monitor.”

 

“Fine.” Sa-young kissed his cheek, fast and possessive. “Then I’ll be professional too.”

 

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

 

He was not professional.

 

The next day, the boom mic “accidentally” dropped during a crucial scene. The light rig “malfunctioned.” Jung Bin’s costume mysteriously ended up two sizes too small. And the prop champagne for the candlelit date scene got swapped with vinegar.

 

No one could prove it was Sa-young. But the AD kept flinching every time he walked past.

 

“Who replaced the wine?” Jung Bin asked, coughing violently between takes.

 

Sa-young leaned against the wall, flipping through a script that wasn’t even his.

 

“Oops,” he said. Again.

 

Jung Bin gave him a look. “You do realize this is a movie, not real life?”

 

Sa-young met his gaze, completely unbothered. “Then stop acting like you want him back in real life.”

 

A pause. Then a faint smile ghosted over Jung Bin’s mouth. “You’re insecure.”

 

Sa-young’s jaw tightened.

 

“I’m territorial,” he corrected. “Big difference.”

 

Another pause. Then Jung Bin chuckled and looked away.

 

“No wonder he loves you,” he muttered.

 

Sa-young stared. The words landed like a sucker punch. But Jung Bin didn’t elaborate. He just walked off toward set, his expression unreadable. 

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

The next romantic scene was supposed to be The Kiss. The big one. The emotional climax. Firelight, piano swell, forehead touch and everything.

 

But when the camera rolled, Eui-jae turned his head at the last second. Jung Bin’s lips landed on the corner of his mouth.

 

“Cut!” someone groaned.

 

Eui-jae looked flustered. “Sorry,” he said. “Guess I lost focus.”

 

Sa-young smirked from behind the monitor, fingers laced behind his back.

 

Jung Bin glanced at him once. Just once. Then sighed.

 

“Let’s take five,” he told the crew.

 

Later, when Eui-jae came to sit beside Sa-young during break, still in character clothes, still smelling like cheap cologne and prop flowers, Sa-young leaned over and whispered in his ear,

 

“‘You always come back to me, no matter what,’ huh?”

 

Eui-jae didn’t even flinch. Just rested his head against Sa-young’s shoulder and muttered, “Yeah. Always you. You annoying, overprotective bastard.”

 

Sa-young’s smile curved slow and smug. “Damn right.”

 

And he didn’t mess with the lights the next day.

 

Only because the kiss got rewritten.

 

Into a forehead touch.

 

And that? That was survivable.

 

But Sa-young still glared through every take. Just to make sure. 

Notes:

So I wrote like 5–6 drafts, and every day I’d sit there like, “Which one should I post next??” 😭
…until I wrote this one. And my brain went YUP, that’s the one. ^^

Also, I have part 2s for this AND for the omegaverse x police AU (don’t ask, it spiralled).
Y’all want one? Both? I’m taking bribes, I'm morally grey, guys.

Chapter 3: The Omega with a Gun (2)

The sun was barely up when the mission briefing ended, and already, Eui-jae wanted to commit violence.

 

Not against the criminal organization they were assigned to raid. Not even against the idiot intel officer who'd confused the location of the drop point again. No. His current and most pressing urge was to punch the walking oak tree assigned to be his partner.

 

Sergeant Kang Hyun-woo. 198 cm. Alpha. Freshly transferred. Probably thinks tactical vests are personality traits.

 

“Sergeant Cha,” Kang greeted, offering a crisp nod, his voice a baritone rumble that echoed against the compound walls. “It’s an honor.”

 

Eui-jae stared up at him. And then stared harder. Like the physical act of craning his neck up to meet the man's gaze personally offended him. Because it did.

 

"...Do you need a chair?" Eui-jae said flatly.

 

Kang blinked. “Sir?”

 

“I asked,” Eui-jae said, voice sharp as a scalpel, “if you need a chair to talk to me. Since you seem like the kind of guy who thinks he's doing everyone a favor by being taller than the average streetlamp.”

 

Behind them, Sa-young, pressed to the wall with a cup of coffee and all the smugness of a cat watching its owner trip, was visibly holding in laughter. His jaw trembled. His chest twitched. But he didn’t make a sound.

 

Because he valued his life.

 

Because he liked having kneecaps.

 

Eui-jae whipped around just enough to catch him in the act. “You got something to say, fresh meat?”

 

“Nope,” Sa-young said instantly, and took a long sip of his drink like it was holy water. “Just... enjoying the sunrise, sir.”

 

Kang, to his credit, didn’t react much. Probably didn’t dare. Eui-jae’s reputation preceded him like the Grim Reaper’s scythe: an omega whose scent suppressants worked better than steel, whose file included more disciplinary warnings than commendations, and whose mere name had once sent an alpha suspect into cardiac arrest from stress.

 

But even with that, even knowing the stories, there was something about the newer, taller, dumber generation of alphas that made them think maybe they’d be the exception. Maybe they'd be the one to "tame" Sergeant Cha.

 

Like he was a damn Pokémon.

 

Eui-jae could tell Kang was one of those.

 

Which is why when the mission went sideways, and the team had to split, Eui-jae, Sa-young, and the tree flanking the back of the warehouse, he already had his eye on the man.

 

What he didn’t expect was for the upper floor to collapse behind them. And definitely didn’t expect Kang the Tree to grab him like luggage and haul him under his arm like—

 

“Put me down, you tall fucker!” Eui-jae shouted, thrashing in Kang’s hold like a furious cat shoved into a gym bag.

 

“There was structural damage,” Kang said calmly, jogging down the emergency stairwell like this was part of the plan. “Sir, with all due respect, your height-to-weight ratio—”

 

“Oh my god,” Sa-young muttered, stumbling after them with his gun in his hand. “He’s actually gonna die. He’s not gonna make it to lunch. His life’s about to be a memory.”

 

Eui-jae elbowed Kang in the ribs hard enough to make him grunt. “Do I look like a fucking sack of rice to you? Huh? Who the hell gave you permission to pick me up like a child at Costco?!”

 

“Sorry, sir,” Kang said, voice unbothered. “I was briefed that speed and safety were—”

 

“Do I look safe?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Exactly. Now put me the fuck down before I break both your femurs.”

 

Sa-young was wheezing by the time they made it outside. His face was red. There were tears.

 

“Sergeant,” Kang said finally, stopping just long enough to let Eui-jae drop to the ground like he was radioactive.

 

Eui-jae straightened his vest, smoothed his sleeves, and glared up at him with the fury of a thousand caffeine withdrawals.

 

“You ever try that shit again,” he said, low and lethal, “I’ll rearrange your spine with a spoon.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Kang said sincerely.

 

Sa-young, ever the dumbest of the living, had the audacity to snort.

 

Eui-jae didn’t even turn his head. “Freash meat.”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“Next time I get carried like a sack of groceries, you can lead recon while wearing a clown suit, you'll be at least useful then.”

 

“I would actually kill for that honor,” Sa-young said without missing a beat, before wisely ducking into cover.

 

The mission proceeded. The warehouse was cleared. No one dared bring up the bridal-style abduction again. 

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

Cha Eui-jae stomped into HQ after the mission like a one-man hurricane, every step loud and echoing, like the floor itself had done something to piss him off. His boots slammed against the tile with that clipped rhythm that made interns go pale and even betas disappear down the nearest hallway like smoke in the wind. The door to the Operations Office flew open like it owed him money.

 

“Oh god,” muttered someone near the coffee machine. “Not again.”

 

Lieutenant Im, who was a beta and therefore often spared from Eui-jae's nuclear wrath, looked up just in time to catch the Omega slamming a report file down on his desk. Hard.

 

“Explain,” Eui-jae said coldly, jaw clenched, eyes burning like someone had lit a fuse behind them. “Why, out of all the useless sacks of hormones you had at your disposal, you partnered me with a walking tree who thought it was appropriate to lift me like a fucking sack of potatoes.”

 

Im blinked. “Good afternoon to you too, Officer Cha.”

 

“Don't get cute with me,” Eui-jae snapped. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for small talk?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“I swear to every deity above and below,” Eui-jae growled, yanking off his gloves with vicious precision, “this is the third time this month a tree has tried manhandling me like I’m some kind of rescue cat. I am not, and let me be very clear here, a prop for oversized alphas to toss around like gym bags!”

 

Lieutenant Im, wisely, said nothing.

 

“I filed the mission parameters clearly,” Eui-jae continued, voice going dangerously calm. “I specified again that any team composition needs to be cleared by me. And what did I get? Some tree with a neck thicker than his brain who thinks it’s chivalry to ‘help the little omega down the cliffside.’”

 

“Technically, it was an unstable ridge—”

 

“Oh, really? Really?” Eui-jae leaned over the desk, eyes narrowing. “So next time I’m about to jump off a roof, should I expect a bridal carry, too? Should I just staple a ‘pick me up’ sign on my back?!”

 

By now, the office was dead silent. Even the printer had gone quiet, as if it too feared Eui-jae’s wrath.

 

“Noted,” Im muttered, scribbling something down just to look busy. “Absolutely unacceptable conduct. We’ll issue a formal memo.”

 

Eui-jae narrowed his eyes. “I want an apology. In writing. And a height restriction on any future partners. No one taller than me unless I personally approve. I’m done with these skyscraper men thinking they can play jungle gym with my career.”

 

Im nodded like his life depended on it. “Yes. Of course. No tall alphas. Strictly hobbits from now on.”

 

There was a pause.

 

Eui-jae squinted. “Was that sarcasm?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

Another pause.

 

“Good.”

 

Without another word, Eui-jae turned on his heel and stormed off toward the exit, coat flaring dramatically, tension still simmering like a ready-to-detonate grenade. As he passed Sa-young, who was pretending to be deeply fascinated by a noticeboard about department-wide flu vaccines, he shot him a glare sharp enough to decapitate.

 

“Say a word, and you’re getting tasered.”

 

“I—I didn’t say anything,” Sa-young choked out. “I value my life, thank you very much.”

 

Eui-jae was out the door before the sentence even ended.

 

Behind him, the entire office finally exhaled.

 

One brave beta from HR murmured, “...Did he just request a height restriction for coworkers?”

 

Im stared down at the paper in front of him.

 

“Yes,” he said flatly. “And I’m approving it. I want to live." 

Notes:

Eui-jae may be short, but he’s still terrifying and honestly, all short people are terrifying.

Chapter 4: Fall for Me

Notes:

Double update today, with both chapters 3 and 4!

He’s not supposed to be here.

 

Jung Bin, radiant in gold-thread robes and soft white wings that almost glow against the twilight, stands with his hands behind his back and his expression locked in its usual impenetrable calm. He’s carved out of restraint, holy and distant, the type of angel who should look down on hell’s creatures. The type who shouldn’t even acknowledge Ban Gyu-Gyu, let alone talk to him.

 

And yet.

 

There he is.

 

Standing at the edge of the scorched cliff that separates the mortal realm from the borders of the Infernus. Just where Gyu-Gyu likes to wait. Where fire licks the skies red and the world holds its breath.

 

“You again,” Jung Bin mutters. He doesn’t look at him.

 

Gyu-Gyu grins, reclining lazily against the curved obsidian rock like he owns it. His silver rings flash when he runs a hand through his platinum hair. There’s ash on his cheekbone. Blood under one of his nails. He doesn’t care. He never does.

 

“What can I say?” Gyu-Gyu shrugs, voice honeyed and slick. “You show up in my territory looking all holy and brooding—I gotta flirt a little.”

 

Jung Bin exhales through his nose, barely audible, like it costs him something to be here. Like every second in Gyu-Gyu’s presence chips at the order of his soul.

 

Good.

 

Gyu-Gyu’s been trying to make him trip for years. Trip, as in: fall from grace. Just one stumble, one cracked wing, one kiss in the wrong place.

 

One slip of the tongue. One moment of weakness. That’s all it would take.

 

And oh, he’s close.

 

“Didn’t Heaven give you a new assignment?” Gyu-Gyu teases, voice low as he steps closer. “Or are you just looking for me?”

 

Jung Bin’s jaw tightens. Still won’t look at him. “This border is sacred. Your presence alone is blasphemy.”

 

Gyu-Gyu tilts his head. “And yet you haven’t smote me once.”

 

“That can change.”

 

“But you won’t. Because if you did, you’d have to admit you’re thinking about me.”

 

There’s silence. Heavy, charged, vibrating between them like the wings they won’t show fully. Because even in a place like this, there’s power in restraint. Gyu-Gyu leans in, just close enough that he can see the smallest flicker in Jung Bin’s eyes—the faintest glow of blue, dimmer than it should be.

 

“I know what it feels like,” Gyu-Gyu whispers. “To crave something you’ve been told you can’t have.”

 

Jung Bin finally turns his head.

 

And for one dangerous second, their eyes meet.

 

It hurts, actually. Gyu-Gyu flinches, but not because of fear. It’s because Jung Bin’s gaze is like standing in the sun after a thousand years of darkness. He hates it. He craves it. He wants to pull him into hell and kiss the divinity out of him until there’s nothing left but him. Only him.

 

“You’re not the first demon to try,” Jung Bin says, soft but cold.

 

Gyu-Gyu’s grin widens. “But I’ll be the last.”

 

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

That night, Gyu-Gyu returns to the underworld with a fresh scratch on his cheek.

 

He keeps it.

 

Because the angel had done it with bare fingers.

 

And his hand had lingered, for just a second too long.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

A week later.

 

Gyu-Gyu is sitting in the middle of a dying field with a bottle of wine made from mortal sins, staring up at the sky like a man waiting for thunder.

 

He doesn’t wait long.

 

Wings like starlight slice through the clouds.

 

Jung Bin lands in front of him, silent, cloaked in light. The wind from his descent kicks up ash and withers every flower around them. His face is unreadable.

 

Gyu-Gyu grins. “Missed me already?”

 

Jung Bin doesn’t answer.

 

But his fist clenches.

 

And there, on the edge of it, is a crack. A shimmer in the light. A tiny shift in the golden halo above his head.

 

The first sign of fall. 

 

The sky is quiet.

 

Too quiet.

 

There’s no thunder, no trumpet, no divine wrath descending. Just two figures on scorched ground, haloed by the dying embers of a war long abandoned.

 

And Gyu-Gyu?

 

He moves like he owns the silence.

 

“Still coming back here,” he hums, pacing in a slow circle around Jung Bin like a wolf around prey that asks to be caught. “You know what they’d do to you if they found out, right?”

 

Jung Bin doesn’t answer.

 

He never does when his hands are trembling.

 

Gyu-Gyu catches it—the tiniest twitch in his fingers, that little shudder his wings make as they strain against whatever holy commandment says he can’t touch. Can’t want. Can’t fall.

 

And that’s exactly when Gyu-Gyu strikes.

 

A quick step. A twist of his hips. And then—

 

 thud.

 

He’s got Jung Bin flat on his back on the ground, pinned by a hand on his chest and the weight of a demon grinning over him like sin given form.

 

Wings flare, but too late.

 

“Careful,” Gyu-Gyu murmurs, leaning in until their foreheads almost touch. “You’re shaking.”

 

“You’re out of line,” Jung Bin grits, voice hoarse, but his breath hitches when Gyu-Gyu shifts his knee between his legs.

 

“Am I?” Gyu-Gyu whispers, teasing. “Or am I exactly where you want me?”

 

Jung Bin’s fists curl in the dirt. He doesn’t answer.

 

So Gyu-Gyu leans closer. Smirks. Lets his breath fan over that perfect, trembling mouth.

 

And then—

 

He kisses him.

 

It’s not sweet. Not soft. It’s messy and filthy and completely, utterly blasphemous.

 

Jung Bin doesn’t move.

 

Not at first.

 

But then Gyu-Gyu feels it—a press back. A desperate, traitorous motion. The barest gasp between their mouths. The sound of a soul cracking under the weight of everything it’s never allowed to feel.

 

And when Gyu-Gyu pulls back?

 

He laughs.

 

“Look at you,” he purrs.

 

Because above Jung Bin’s head, the golden halo flickers and cracks again. A visible split, jagged and deep, like lightning through glass. The shimmer of divine light wavers. It stutters.

 

And Jung Bin, the angel, the untouchable soldier of Heaven, turns his face away, chest rising and falling like it hurts to breathe.

 

Gyu-Gyu cups his jaw.

 

“Just admit it,” he says gently. “You want to fall for me.”

 

“No,” Jung Bin rasps, but it sounds like begging. Like regret. Like not yet.

 

Gyu-Gyu’s grin widens, sharp and wicked.

 

“But you will.”

Notes:

Spreading my Jung Bin x Gyu-Gyu agenda 😼

Chapter 5: Stray Cat Named Trouble

Cha Eui-jae didn’t mean to adopt a cat.

 

He was walking home from his miserable shift at the soup restaurant, reeking of broth and fried garlic, questioning all his life choices, when he found him, a pissed-off ball of fluff growling on top of a trash can like a little demon.

 

Grey skies, light drizzle, and one soaking-wet cat glaring at the world like it owed him money.

 

“You look like you pay taxes and murder people in your free time,” Eui-jae muttered, umbrella cocked sideways as he stared at the feline menace. The cat’s fur was jet black, soaked through and fluffed up in all the wrong places. He had piercing violet eyes that gave attitude, like he was silently judging Eui-jae’s entire existence.

 

And then, because Eui-jae was clearly out of his damn mind, he crouched and extended a hand. “Hey. Wanna come home with me?”

 

The cat scratched him.

 

Like deep, satisfying claw-to-skin drag across the back of his hand. Not out of fear. No. That was personal.

 

“...Bastard,” Eui-jae hissed, clutching his hand.

 

The cat blinked at him. Flicked his tail. Looked smug.

 

So, of course, Eui-jae scooped him up anyway. “You’re such a Sa-young,” he muttered.

 

The cat meowed. Offended, probably.

 

“No, seriously. You look like a Sa-young,” Eui-jae said as they made eye contact. “Dramatic. High maintenance. Probably thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

 

Sa-young yowled in disagreement. Clawed him again for good measure.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m bleeding, whatever. You're coming with me. We live together now.”

 

 

---

 

Day 1 of cohabitation:

 

Sa-young refused to sleep in the bed Eui-jae bought. He claimed the windowsill. Then the pillow. Then Eui-jae’s face at 3 a.m.

 

He stole one of Eui-jae’s socks. Hid it under the fridge like a trophy.

 

He also bit Eui-jae when he tried to bathe him.

 

“You smell like garbage juice and unresolved trauma,” Eui-jae said as he dabbed his bite wound with antiseptic. “I swear to god, if I end up with rabies—”

 

Sa-young knocked over the medicine bottle and stared at him like, Try me.

 

 

---

 

Day 5:

 

Sa-young had claimed the entire apartment.

 

He liked classical music (but only the dramatic violin solos), ignored every cat toy Eui-jae bought, and only drank water if it was running from the faucet.

 

Eui-jae caught himself talking to him like he was a roommate.

 

“No, I’m not putting on that trash drama, Sa-young. You don’t pay rent. We’re watching horror tonight.”

 

Sa-young stared. Knocked the remote off the couch.

 

He got his drama.

 

 

---

 

Day 14:

 

Eui-jae came home tired, bruised from some jackass pushing him at the subway station, and just sat on the floor like, “This is it. This is how I die. Cold. Alone. In debt.”

 

Sa-young approached. Didn’t meow. Didn’t do the cute “comfort your human” thing cats in movies did.

 

No.

 

He slapped Eui-jae’s cheek with his paw.

 

Not hard. Not violent. Just… a judgmental little tap.

 

Eui-jae stared at him.

 

“…Thanks.”

 

Sa-young blinked slowly. Sat down on Eui-jae’s lap like fine, I’ll allow it, stupid human, curled up, and started purring for the first time.

 

 

---

 

Day 30:

 

Eui-jae caught himself buying organic salmon because “His Highness” liked it more than kibble.

 

His screensaver was now Sa-young lounging like a model on the window ledge.

 

He came home from work, saw the cat do that slow stretch, back arched, tail flicking like a whip, and muttered, “You really are a Sa-young.”

 

The cat flicked his ears like he knew. Like he was born for this.

 

“You’re spoiled, demanding, act like you’re better than everyone, and probably would kill a man if he looked at you wrong.”

 

Sa-young licked his paw.

 

“…But you let me hold you when I’m crying,” Eui-jae muttered.

 

Sa-young gave a long-suffering sigh and curled up beside him on the couch, resting his head on Eui-jae’s thigh like it was no big deal. Like, yeah, you’re mine now.

 

Eui-jae smiled faintly. “God help me, I love you, you little gremlin.”

 

Sa-young bit him again.

 

But not hard this time.

 

Just a warning.

 

 

---

 

Bonus:

 

Eui-jae told his coworker one day, “I live with someone named Sa-young.”

 

Everyone assumed he had a boyfriend. Sexy, mysterious, probably emotionally unavailable.

 

Then one of them visited and saw the cat perched on a velvet cushion, staring at them with royalty-level contempt.

 

“…This is Sa-young?”

 

Eui-jae just nodded solemnly. “Yeah. That’s him. He chose me.”

 

And Sa-young blinked like Damn right I did.

Notes:

Catyoung propaganda but this time he is a real cat 😼

Chapter 6: 11:47

# Day 127

 

Jung Bin wakes up at 6:47 AM to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand.

 

I'm bringing coffee. Don't you darre make that instant shit.

 

He stares at the text from Eui-jae, the same one he's received 126 times before. The same typo in "dare" that Eui-jae will never fix because his hands shake in the mornings when he hasn't had caffeine.

 

Jung Bin rolls over and presses his face into the pillow.

 

He knows exactly what happens next. Eui-jae will show up at 7:23 with two cups of black coffee and a scowl, complaining about the traffic. He'll steal Jung Bin's shirt because it's "softer than his cheap shit." They'll argue about breakfast. Eui-jae will win, as always.

 

And then, at 11:47 PM, he'll die.

 

Again.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

"You look like death," Eui-jae says when Jung Bin opens the door.

 

Jung Bin wants to laugh. Wants to scream. Wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he understands that he's the one who's going to die, not Jung Bin.

 

Instead, he takes the coffee. "Thanks."

 

Eui-jae narrows his eyes. "You didn't sleep."

 

"I slept fine."

 

"Bullshit. You get that crease between your eyebrows when you don't sleep. And you're holding the mug wrong."

 

Jung Bin looks down. He's gripping it like a weapon. He forces his fingers to relax.

 

"I'm fine," he lies.

 

Eui-jae studies him for another long moment, then shrugs and pushes past him into the apartment. He's wearing the same black jacket. The same worn boots. The same silver ring on his middle finger that will get caught in the car door later.

 

Jung Bin has tried 47 different ways to prevent it.

 

None of them work.

 

"So," Eui-jae says, already rifling through Jung Bin's closet like he lives here. Which he basically does. "Movie tonight?"

 

"No."

 

Eui-jae pauses, halfway into stealing a sweater. "No?"

 

"Let's stay in."

 

"Since when do you want to stay in? You love that pretentious art theater."

 

Because staying in means you don't get in the car. Because staying in means you don't drive past that intersection. Because staying in means maybe, just maybe, you don't die tonight.

 

"I just want to be with you," Jung Bin says, and it's the most honest thing he's said in weeks.

 

Eui-jae blinks. Then his expression softens, just a fraction.

 

"Okay," he says quietly. "We'll stay in."

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

They don't stay in.

 

Because at 9:15 PM, Jung Bin's sister calls. Emergency at the hospital. Can Jung Bin pick up their mother's prescription?

 

And Eui-jae, stubborn, loyal, beautiful Eui-jae, insists on driving because Jung Bin is "too stressed to think straight."

 

"Don't take Hannam Bridge," Jung Bin says, gripping the passenger seat.

 

"Why? It's faster."

 

"Please. Just... take the long way."

 

Eui-jae glances at him. "You're being weird today."

 

"I'm being careful."

 

"Since when are you careful?"

 

Since I've watched you die 126 times.

 

They take Hannam Bridge anyway.

 

Jung Bin knows exactly when it happens.

 

11:47 PM. Red light at the intersection of Hannam-daero and Sinsa-dong. Eui-jae drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to some song Jung Bin can't hear through his own heartbeat.

 

"You know I love you, right?" Jung Bin says suddenly.

 

Eui-jae turns to look at him, surprised. "Yeah. I know. I love you too, you dummy—"

 

The truck runs the red light.

 

Jung Bin sees it coming. He always sees it coming. The way the headlights sweep across Eui-jae's face, turning his skin pale and ethereal. The way his eyes widen. The way his mouth opens to say Jung Bin's name.

 

The impact.

 

The silence.

 

The blood.

 

Jung Bin reaches for him, always reaches for him, but Eui-jae's eyes are already empty.

 

And then—

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

# Day 128

 

Jung Bin wakes up at 6:47 AM to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand.

 

I'm bringing coffee. Don't you dare make that instant shit.

 

This time, he doesn't get up. He lies there, staring at the ceiling, and lets the phone ring when Eui-jae calls to ask why he's not answering his texts.

 

"Are you sick?" Eui-jae demands when he shows up anyway, using his spare key. "You look like—"

 

"Death. I know."

 

Eui-jae sets the coffee on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. His weight dips the mattress. Jung Bin wants to memorize it, the warmth of him, the way he smells like cigarettes and mint gum.

 

"Talk to me," Eui-jae says softly.

 

And Jung Bin almost does. Almost tells him everything. About the loop, about the accident, about how he's tried everything, calling in bomb threats, slashing the tires, even getting them both arrested once just to keep them off the streets.

 

Instead, he reaches up and touches Eui-jae's face.

 

"You have beautiful eyes," he says.

 

Eui-jae's cheeks flush. "You're delirious."

 

"No. I'm just... looking at you. Really looking."

 

And he is. He’s memorizing the faint scar across Eui-jae’s knuckle from a fight he won’t talk about. The ash-colored hair that catches light like silver, grown out just enough to fall into his eyes when he doesn’t cut it himself. The way his black eyes have this glow that makes them shine like the stars in the night sky.

 

All the little details that disappear when the world resets.

 

"Jung Bin," Eui-jae says, and his voice is uncertain. "You're scaring me."

 

"Don't be scared. Just... stay with me today. Don't leave. Don't drive anywhere. Don't even go to the corner store."

 

"What's wrong with you?"

 

Everything. Nothing. I'm losing my mind watching you die over and over and I can't save you and I don't know how to stop this.

 

"Nothing's wrong," Jung Bin lies. "I just want one perfect day with you."

 

Eui-jae studies his face for a long moment. Then he kicks off his boots and crawls into bed beside him.

 

"One perfect day," he agrees. "But tomorrow, you're seeing a therapist."

 

Jung Bin closes his eyes and pretends there will be a tomorrow where Eui-jae is alive to make that appointment.

 

At 11:47 PM, Jung Bin was still holding him.

 

They're in bed, Eui-jae half-asleep against his chest, breathing soft and even. Jung Bin watches the clock on his phone.

 

11:45

 

11:46.

 

11:47.

 

Nothing happens.

 

Jung Bin's heart stutters with hope.

 

And then Eui-jae convulses in his arms. Blood foams at his lips. His eyes roll back.

 

"No," Jung Bin whispers. "No, no, no—"

 

But it doesn't matter where they are. It doesn't matter what they do.

 

At 11:47 PM, Cha Eui-jae dies.

 

And Jung Bin wakes up at 6:47 AM to do it all again.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

# Day 200

 

Jung Bin stops trying to save him.

 

He stops answering the texts, stops opening the door, stops pretending any of it matters.

 

Eui-jae breaks in anyway, because that's what he does. That's who he is.

 

"You haven't showered in three days," he says, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

 

"How do you know?"

 

"Because I know you. And you only get this pathetic when something's really wrong."

 

Jung Bin laughs. It sounds broken even to his own ears.

 

"Something is wrong," he admits. "Something's very, very wrong, and I can't fix it."

 

Eui-jae comes closer. Sits on the couch beside him. Doesn't touch, but close enough that Jung Bin can feel his warmth.

 

"Tell me," he says.

 

So Jung Bin does.

 

All of it. The loop, the deaths, the desperate attempts to change anything, everything. He talks until his voice gives out, until Eui-jae is staring at him with wide, unbelieving eyes.

 

"You think I'm insane," Jung Bin croaks.

 

Eui-jae is quiet for a long time.

 

Then: "What was I wearing the first day?"

 

"Black jacket. Gray shirt underneath. Your boots with the scuff on the left toe."

 

"What did I text you?"

 

Jung Bin recites it word for word.

 

"What time do I die?"

 

"11:47 PM."

 

Another silence.

 

"Show me," Eui-jae says.

 

So Jung Bin does.

 

He takes him to the intersection. Parks across the street. And at exactly 11:47 PM, they watch the truck run the red light and slam into empty air.

 

Eui-jae doesn't say anything.

 

But when Jung Bin looks at him, there are tears on his cheeks.

 

"I'm sorry," Eui-jae whispers. "I'm so fucking sorry."

 

And then—

 

# Day 201

 

Jung Bin wakes up at 6:47 AM.

 

But this time, when the phone buzzes, he smiles.

 

Because this time, he's not alone in this hell.

 

This time, Eui-jae remembers too.

Notes:

This is my second time writing a time loop fanfic, and honestly, it’s like a community garden for angst, I just keep replanting the pain and watching it grow.

Chapter 7: Unwanted obsession.

Notes:

This chapter contains spoilers about some characters from part 2, if you don't want to any spoilers don't read this ‼️‼️‼️

The younger Mackerel brother spotted Cha Eui-jae first, like he always did.

 

"Hyung-nim!" he called out, abandoning his post at their makeshift booth behind the gymnasium to practically sprint across the courtyard. "You came! You actually came to see us!"

 

Eui-jae, who had been walking to the library with the resigned expression of someone who knew his lunch break was about to be hijacked, stopped and turned. "I need a phone charger."

 

"Of course! Of course you do!" The younger Mackerel was bouncing on his heels with excitement. "What kind? We have everything! USB-C, Lightning, micro-USB, even those weird proprietary ones for the old Samsung models!"

 

The older Mackerel appeared moments later, slightly out of breath from hurrying to catch up, clutching a small cooler bag like his life depended on it.

 

"Hyung-nim," he stammered, bowing slightly. "I—I brought you something. It's, um, it's banana milk. The expensive kind. From the convenience store near the station. Not—not the cheap stuff from the vending machine. Is that... is that okay?"

 

Eui-jae accepted the banana milk with the weary patience of someone who had given up trying to understand why these two treated him like visiting royalty. "It's fine."

 

The younger brother beamed like Eui-jae had just announced he was adopting them both.

 

That's when Lee Sa-young rounded the corner.

 

Sa-young's eyes swept the scene, the Mackerel brothers hovering around Eui-jae like devoted pets, their little black market operation temporarily abandoned in favor of fawning over their favorite customer, the expression of pure adoration on the younger one's face, and his jaw tightened.

 

"What," Sa-young said, his voice carrying that particular tone that made smart people start looking for exits, "is this?"

 

The older Mackerel immediately started stammering harder. "W—We were just—hyung-nim needed a phone charger, and we were—"

 

"I can see what you were doing." Sa-young stepped closer, and both brothers instinctively took a half-step back. "What I want to know is why you two are treating him like he's some kind of celebrity instead of running your little operation."

 

"We always prioritize hyung-nim's needs!" the younger Mackerel said, trying to sound dignified but mostly succeeding in sounding like a zealous fan club president.

 

Sa-young's smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "Hyung-nim?"

 

"It's a sign of respect," the younger brother continued, either oblivious to the danger or too devoted to care. "Hyung-nim takes care of everyone, so we take care of him. It's only natural."

 

"Natural," Sa-young repeated, and there was something in his tone that made Eui-jae sigh internally.

 

"Sa-young," Eui-jae started, recognizing the warning signs.

 

But Sa-young was already in motion, circling the brothers like a predator who had just spotted wounded prey.

 

"Tell me," Sa-young said conversationally, "how exactly does buying overpriced convenience store drinks qualify as 'taking care' of someone?"

 

"We remember wh—what he likes," the older brother said quietly, clutching his cooler bag tighter. "And we make sure to get the good stuff. Not—not the cheap versions."

 

"How thoughtful." Sa-young's voice dripped with false sincerity. "And I suppose you also remember his class schedule? His favorite study spots? Where he goes after school?"

 

The younger Mackerel's enthusiasm faltered slightly. "We're not stalking him or anything. We just... pay attention. Good customer service requires—"

 

"Customer service." Sa-young laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Is that what we're calling obsessive behavior now?"

 

"We're not obsessed!" the younger brother protested, but his voice cracked slightly.

 

"Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you two have built a shrine to someone who just wants to buy a phone charger and be left alone."

 

Eui-jae watched this exchange with the expression of someone trapped between two forces of nature. "Can we just—"

 

"The thing is," Sa-young continued, completely ignoring Eui-jae's attempt at intervention, "devotion like this? It's not flattering. It's creepy. It's the kind of behavior that makes people uncomfortable and starts rumors about restraining orders."

 

Both brothers went pale.

 

"Sa-young, that's enough," Eui-jae said firmly.

 

"Is it?" Sa-young turned to him, and there was something almost possessive in his expression. "Because I'm watching two kids who should be focusing on their studies obsess over someone who's never given them any indication that this level of... attention... is welcome."

 

The older Mackerel looked like he might cry. "We didn't mean...we're not trying to make hyung-nim uncomfortable. We just admire—"

 

"You admire him," Sa-young said flatly. "Right. And that gives you the right to follow him around, memorize his preferences, and treat him like your personal deity?"

 

"It's not like that!"

 

"Isn't it?" Sa-young stepped closer to the younger brother, who had gone from excited to defensive to genuinely distressed. "Because from here, it looks exactly like that. It looks like two people who can't tell the difference between respect and obsession."

 

The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife.

 

Finally, Eui-jae spoke. "Sa-young. Walk away."

 

Sa-young's attention snapped back to him. "What?"

 

"I said walk away. Right now. Before you say something you can't take back."

 

For a moment, it looked like Sa-young might argue. His expression cycled through surprise, anger, and something that might have been hurt before settling on cold resignation.

 

"Fine," he said. "But don't come crying to me when your fan club starts leaving offerings at your locker."

 

He turned and walked away, his departure somehow managing to be both dramatic and genuinely threatening.

 

The Mackerel brothers stood in stunned silence for several seconds.

 

"Is he always like that?" the younger one asked finally, his voice small.

 

Eui-jae considered the question. "Usually he's worse."

 

The older brother was still clutching his cooler bag, looking shaken. "Did we—did we really make you uncomfortable, hyung-nim? Because if we did, we can stop—"

 

"You're fine," Eui-jae said, though his tone suggested he was more tired than reassuring. "Sa-young has... issues with boundaries. Don't take it personally."

 

"But if we're being too much—"

 

"You're not stalkers," Eui-jae said firmly. "You're just enthusiastic about customer service. There's a difference."

 

The younger Mackerel's expression brightened slightly. "So we can still—"

 

"You can still bring me overpriced banana milk," Eui-jae confirmed. "But maybe tone down the hero worship? Sa-young might be an ass, but he wasn't entirely wrong about the shrine comment."

 

Both brothers blushed furiously.

 

"We don't have a sh—shrine," the older one mumbled.

 

"Good. Keep it that way." Eui-jae accepted the phone charger the younger brother handed him, along with exact change for the banana milk. "And maybe consider that there's a fine line between admiration and obsession. Try to stay on the right side of it."

 

As he walked away, leaving the brothers to process this advice, Eui-jae found himself wondering, not for the first time, why every relationship in his life seemed to involve some form of possessive weirdness.

 

Behind him, he could hear the Mackerel brothers whispering urgently to each other.

 

"Do you think we've been too obvious?"

 

"I think that Sa-young wa-wants to murder us."

 

"Yeah, probably. But hyung-nim said we're not stalkers!"

 

"That's... that's something, right?"

 

Eui-jae shook his head and kept walking. At least their devotion came with useful services and snacks. Sa-young's version of possessiveness mostly just came with headaches.

Notes:

The Mackerel brothers are soo cute, they are so hilarious 🫶🏻

Chapter 8: 240 on a date

《Pado Guild Blind Post》

 

[※ Please use manners while posting!]

[※ Posts that don't follow the rules may be deleted without notice.]

 

Title: [Anonymous] I think I saw 240 on a DATE. What do I do with this information.

 

I'm not joking. I was getting coffee near Hongdae and I saw him. Sitting across from some guy. SHARING FOOD. They looked... comfortable? I think I'm having a breakdown.

 

---

 

Comments (127)

 

You're lying.

⤷ I WISH I was lying. I have photographic evidence but I'm too scared to post it.

    ⤷ POST IT POST IT POST IT

        ⤷ Don't post it he'll know it was you and you'll DIE

 

WHAT KIND OF FOOD

⤷ Pasta. They were sharing pasta.

     ⤷ 240 doesn't eat carbs

         ⤷ 240 doesn't eat PERIOD. He survives on pure rage.

⤷ Lady and the Tramp situation???

⤷ I'm going to throw myself off the roof

 

Did he look... happy?

⤷ Define happy

    ⤷ Like, not actively planning someone's murder

⤷ That's the scariest thing I've ever heard

 

WHO WAS THE GUY

⤷ Tall. Dark hair. Handsome. Looked like he could actually hold a conversation without crying.

   ⤷ So not one of us then

      ⤷ Definitely not guild material

 

I'm calling fake. 240 doesn't date. 240 IS the date. As in, expiration date. For his enemies.

 

Wait wait wait. Was he... was he TALKING? Like, actual conversation?

⤷ They were both talking! Back and forth! For like an HOUR!

   ⤷ An hour??? What could they possibly talk about for an hour???

      ⤷ "So anyway, here's 47 ways I could kill you with this fork..."

 

I refuse to believe this. Show us the photo or it didn't happen.

⤷ I'm not posting evidence of our Guild Leader's private life, I want to LIVE

   ⤷ DM it to me I'll post it anonymously

      ⤷ No one is posting anything, are you insane???

 

But like... what if it's a work meeting?

⤷ At a pasta place???

⤷ Maybe the guy's a target

   ⤷ Yeah that makes more sense. 240 was probably planning his death over carbonara.

 

The fact that someone survived sitting across from him for an hour is honestly impressive.

⤷ Plot twist: the guy doesn't know who 240 is

   ⤷ Oh god he's going to find out and DIE

      ⤷ RIP random pasta guy, you seemed nice

 

I'm never eating pasta again. It's been contaminated by this cursed knowledge.

 

GUYS. What if 240 actually has... feelings?

⤷ Delete this

   ⤷ Delete your entire account

      ⤷ I'm blocking you for even suggesting it

 

Someone needs to do reconnaissance. Find out who mystery pasta man is.

⤷ YOU do reconnaissance

    ⤷ I'd rather fight a rift monster barehanded

       ⤷ At least rift monsters are predictable

 

Update: I walked past the same cafe. They're gone but the server looked traumatized. Should I ask what happened?

⤷ NO

⤷ Leave that poor server alone, they've been through enough

 

I can't focus on work. Every time I see 240 I'm going to think about him sharing spaghetti like a normal person.

⤷ Nothing about this is normal

   ⤷ We're living in the twilight zone

 

What if they're dating and we all have to pretend we don't know?

⤷ We're already pretending we don't know he could kill us all

   ⤷ This is just one more thing to add to the list

 

I'm putting in for a transfer. I can't handle this psychological warfare. 

 

Think about it: if 240’s out on a “date,” that means someone else is covering him. Which means… another Rift is about to open.

⤷ How did we get here...

   ⤷ This literally doesn't make any sense. 

 

Are we even sure it was pasta?? What if it was ramyeon? Big difference.

⤷ OP literally said pasta.

⤷ You think 240 would slurp noodles in public? Get real...

 

Do you guys realize what this MEANS?? If 240 dates, then he’s human. If he’s human, then emotions exist. If emotions exist, then none of us are safe.

⤷ I need you to calm down.

   ⤷ They’re right though. This is society-ending.

 

Y’all aren’t seeing the bigger picture. This is OBVIOUSLY staged by the Bureau to make 240 look approachable. Wake up.

⤷ Approachable?? He was literally planning homicide over Alfredo.

   ⤷ Government psy-op confirmed.

 

What if Mystery Pasta Man is like… happy with him? What if he likes him??

⤷ No one likes 240, that’s biologically impossible.

   ⤷ You don’t share spaghetti with someone you hate. Science.

 

Plot twist: OP just saw some random guy with a mean resting face.

⤷ You think two unrelated murder-looking men were SHARING PASTA at the same time? Sure.

  ⤷ Statistically possible. Horrifying, but possible.

 

 [Pado Guild Admin]: Please remember that spreading unfounded rumors about guild members’ personal lives may result in disciplinary action. Thank you for your cooperation.

⤷ Translation: stop gossiping before he finds us.

   ⤷ They’re watching this thread right now, I can FEEL it. 

Notes:

Honestly this one was so damn fun to write, even if it fried my brain while I was trying to figure out what to put in it. I’m kind of tempted to do another one like this but in a hunter channel… maybe Gyu-Gyu and Honeybee fighting in the chat? We’ll see. Anyway, this one’s still got a long way to go, so whatever :P

Chapter 9: Just a random day in Channel 1

Notes:

This is just a plotless idea I swear I made while I had a fever so this may be a bit too much but whatever :D

[5] Gyu-Gyu: anyone else bored out of their mind?

 

[6] Honeybee: It's 7 AM

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: your point?

 

[6] Honeybee: Normal people are sleeping

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: bold of you to assume I'm normal

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: Can you two argue quieter? Some of us are trying to work

 

[6] Honeybee: What are you even making this early?

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: Knife set for a client

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: boring

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: It pays the bills unlike SOME people

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: hey I have a job

 

[50] Romantic Opener: Being a menace to society doesn't count

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: that's just a side hobby

 

[11] Shield Guy: Morning everyone

 

[6] Honeybee: Finally, someone sane

 

[11] Shield Guy: I wouldn't go that far

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: Is it weird that I miss the chaos from yesterday?

 

[50] Romantic Opener: Very weird

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: Today's too quiet

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: I could fix that

 

[6] Honeybee: DON'T

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: Please don't

 

[11] Shield Guy: For the love of all that's holy, don't

 

[50] Romantic Opener: I'm curious now

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: see? Romantic Opener gets it

 

[50] Romantic Opener: I immediately regret this

 

[4] Jung Bin: Good morning Channel 1 ^^ 

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: JUNG BIN! ♡♡♡

 

[4] Jung Bin: It's too early for this ^^

 

[6] Honeybee: It's ALWAYS too early for this

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: did you sleep well babe?

 

[4] Jung Bin: Don't call me babe ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: sweetie?

 

[4] Jung Bin: No ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: honey?

 

[4] Jung Bin: Absolutely not ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: darling?

 

[4] Jung Bin: Gyu-min, please don't start rumors ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Rumors? Jung Bin, you wound me

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: After all those romantic dinners at the detention center

 

[4] Jung Bin: Those were interrogations ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Same thing ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: This is painful to watch

 

[11] Shield Guy: I'm getting secondhand embarrassment

 

[50] Romantic Opener: This is getting weird even for us

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: Should we start a new chat without them?

 

[4] Jung Bin: Just call me Jung Bin ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: that's so formal though

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: we have a special connection

 

[6] Honeybee: The only connection you have is his foot up your ass

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: kinky

 

[6] Honeybee: EW

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: Why are we like this?

 

[50] Romantic Opener: Speak for yourself, I'm normal

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: You literally tried to seduce a vending machine last week

 

[50] Romantic Opener: It had nice curves

 

[11] Shield Guy: I need new friends

 

[4] Jung Bin: We're not friends, we're colleagues ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: we could be more than colleagues ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

[4] Jung Bin: We really couldn't ^^

 

[6] Honeybee: Thank god for small mercies

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: you're just jealous Honeybee

 

[6] Honeybee: Of WHAT exactly?

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: my natural charm and good looks

 

[6] Honeybee: HAHAHAHAHAHA

 

[6] Honeybee: oh wait you're serious

 

[6] Honeybee: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: Brutal

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: She's not wrong though

 

[50] Romantic Opener: Gyu-Gyu looks like he got dressed in the dark

 

[50] Romantic Opener: While drunk

 

[11] Shield Guy: And falling down stairs

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: you're all just jealous of my unique style

 

[4] Jung Bin: Is that what we're calling it? ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: even you Jung Bin? I'm hurt

 

[4] Jung Bin: You'll survive ^^

 

[6] Honeybee: Unfortunately

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: so much hostility

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: can't we all just get along?

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: We get along fine when you're not here

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: rude

 

[11] Shield Guy: But accurate

 

[50] Romantic Opener: Painfully accurate

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: We should probably feel bad about ganging up on him

 

[6] Honeybee: Should we though?

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: ...no not really

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: I have feelings you know

 

[4] Jung Bin: Do you though? ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: I have feelings for YOU specifically

 

[4] Jung Bin: That's concerning ^^

 

[6] Honeybee: That's TERRIFYING

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: Should we call someone?

 

[11] Shield Guy: Like a therapist?

 

[50] Romantic Opener: Or an exorcist

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: Why not both?

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: you're all so mean to me

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Jung Bin defend my honor

 

[4] Jung Bin: What honor? ^^

 

[6] Honeybee: OHHHH

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: DAMN

 

[11] Shield Guy: Jung Bin with the kill shot

 

[50] Romantic Opener: I felt that from here

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: RIP Gyu-Gyu

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: I like it when you're mean to me

 

[4] Jung Bin: ...^^

 

[6] Honeybee: I'm logging off

 

[6] Honeybee: This is too weird even for me

 

[8] I Am An Artisan: Same

 

[11] Shield Guy: Yep I'm out

 

[50] Romantic Opener: See you all later

 

[34] A Small Miracle Seo Min-gi: Good luck Jung Bin

 

[4] Jung Bin: Where is everyone going? ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: looks like it's just you and me now

 

[4] Jung Bin: This is my nightmare ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: this is my dream come true

 

[4] Jung Bin: I'm muting the chat ^^

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: you can't run from love Jung Bin

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Jung Bin?

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: babe?

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: sweetie?

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: I know you're still reading this

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Jung Bin?

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: I'll just keep typing until you respond

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: this is me being persistent

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: also romantic

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Jung Bin

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Jung Bin

 

[5] Gyu-Gyu: Jung Bin

 

[Gyu-Gyu has been permanently banned by Jung Bin]

 

[6] Honeybee: THANK GOD

 

[4] Jung Bin: I need a vacation ^^

 

Notes:

Eui-jae who just woke up and did the mistake of checking Hunter Channel 1: wtf?