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Do not use Gwi-Ma's name in vain.
First, why did you go for “Gwi-Ma's Next Top Model” when “Demon World’s Got Talent” and “Demon Idol” were right there? You know damn well he did not endorse your harebrained…talent show.
Second, it's ludicrous when we all know he'd say yes if you just asked politely. Shut up, we all know he likes you, otherwise he would have retired you three hundred ninety-six years ago.
This whole debacle was, frankly, avoidable, and you're lucky all Gwi-Ma did was confiscate your bipa for ninety-six hours.
Fine, you (accidentally) had a point with the “model” part, since visuals are king in K-Pop. But I literally just heard you brag that you've got enough talent for a whole group and that all you need to complete the set is “hot boy eye candy”. I'm not even going to start on what's wrong with that.
Besides, isn’t it a moot point when demons can shapeshift?
Oh. Fair enough. It does “hit different” when you know they look like that even behind closed doors.
Let me tell you something. I used to be a world-famous producer in the 2000s and 2010s, you know. It's what I sold my soul for-
What's that? Why would I sell my soul, when my parents can afford beach houses and weekly all you can eat K-BBQ pilgrimages for a family of eight?
I'm going to try really hard not to think about how condescending your question is.
To start, they don't own a beach house; they own a shitty timeshare on Jeju Island that we have to use so that my dad doesn't feel too bad about his dubious financial decisions. If we had tons of money, we wouldn't be going to shitty AYCE joints for lunch just because they're understaffed enough for us to get away with doggy bagging the banchan. And I sure as fuck wouldn’t be working 7/11 cash registers after school.
Also like, you realize that selling your soul for success is a story as old as time, right? Music is a cutthroat industry, where talent alone won’t cut it. Trust me on this one. I’ve worked in entertainment for sixteen years across three continents. And in my personal career: literally nothing about my work changed, except for Gwi-Ma’s stamp of approval.
Fine, I'll help you. It's not like I have anything better to do. But only if you stop calling me “raspberry-flavored.”
Gaslighting Gwi-Ma into thinking he's hearing voices works once. And once only.
I’m honestly shocked it worked even once.
I'm still convinced he was so taken aback by your audacity that he had no other choice but to go along with it.
It is a privilege to be selected as a member of the Saja Boys.
I know we really emphasized the “fun” and “friendship” aspects of being in a boy group when we recruited you, but you cannot lose sight of the fact that, ultimately, our goal is to save demonkind from a prolonged and painful demise. As such, we expect you to comport yourselves accordingly.
That starts with how you respond to the news of your debut.
I’m glad you’re excited, but…
For fuck’s sake, did you ever stop for a moment and consider why everyone, including the egghead demons who don’t even have eyes, have been crying for the last hour? You should be sensitive and mindful of everyone’s feelings, not belly flopping into random bodies of water while gloating at the top of your lungs that you’re going to the human world. Jelly is the nicest person–er, entity–I’ve ever met. It broke my heart to turn him down, and he does not deserve for your belly button to be the last thing he sees before he passes out.
Seriously, you never wondered why it took you three months to hear back? We must have heard every single entity in this place sing.
There’s a reason even the most diehard loyalists vie for field trips to the human world. For all its silver linings, the Demon World is not the…most appealing locale. It's boring, the bathhouses are all cold, our library is half car manuals and half anatomically dubious pornography, random demons will start teething on your ankle because they're bored–down, Mystery, before I euthanize you.
Add to it the promise of Friendship and Adventures, and it should be pretty obvious.
…
Gwi-Ma’s altar is not a dance floor. Please step away and put your shirts back on.
Sorry, sir. They're just so excited to…harvest souls. It won’t happen again.
Jinu, I told you we were going to get the most ballistic weirdos out there if we prioritized “Group chemistry” and “Homoerotic camaraderie”.
Just because Gwi-Ma is a giant flame on a stone pit doesn't mean he's a viable location for Barbecue Night.
He won’t find it funny.
No one will find it funny.
Except for Abby, but that’s because he’s a chronic people pleaser who will laugh at anything if you give him enough secondhand embarrassment.
On that note: the Demon World is supposed to be intrinsically depressing.
Hearing Gwi-Ma in your head is a feature, not a bug. He is all that stands between us and anarchy.
If you insist on hosting events to “boost morale,” even after two warnings, maybe “Want the voices to stop? Come to Tiger Petting Therapy today!” isn't the best tagline.
You're lucky Gwi-Ma got so distracted giving Derpy belly rubs that he forgot to punish you.
Our goal is to accumulate a fanbase that dwarves even the Huntr/x’s. Buying Golden albums is contradictory to this purpose.
We do not need to qualify for fancalls; we are demons with the ability to transcend doors.
In fact, the hunters will probably schedule “fancalls” with us all on their own.
If you really want a specific photocard, I recommend buying it directly from an online marketplace.
Keep it simple, stupid.
There are literally less than two weeks before the Idol Awards. We are booked, day in and day out.
Our plan is foolproof. Go viral, roll out a fuckton of merch, spam the general public with our faces, steal their souls, finally take the nap I've been trying to take for the last ten years.
That means we have no room for random detours like crashing Huntrix fansigns while not even getting the dignity of normal clothes just because it's the first time a girl's looked at you in four hundred years.
…I told Abby showing you Mira memes was a mistake.
And now that we're here, you can't even be assed to do your jobs properly. Multiple fanclubs and Gwi-Ma have called me asking why you’re allowed to date.
Worst of all, I need a smoke, and all I’ve got is this stupid lollipop and lukewarm bottled water.
Also, Mystery refuses to wash the part of his arm where Zoey thwacked him and it's been five days.
Please send help.
When I tell you “No unscripted talking with fans,” “talking” includes:
Non-Korean languages.
Passing notes.
Singing.
Rapping.
Interpretative dancing.
And for the love of my sanity…Stop. Barking.
I'm extending your ban by another three days.
(Also, here’s a pro-tip about women: if she likes you, that’s a red flag, and you should stay away.)
Sexy concepts are unnecessary in the year of our lord 2025.
Especially when Romance is biologically a minor by modern South Korean laws.
Gwi-Ma is not amused or titillated by your makeshift strip show.
No one is.
Except for Jelly, who will endorse anything you do, and Zoey and Mira, but they're fucking perverts who won’t hesitate to kill you once they scratch one out.
Aw shit, we’re banned on KBS now, and I guess I’m the one on damage control.
While there are no set dress codes for assemblies, we jeoseung saja are expected to observe at least some sense of decorum.
Our former identities lend us a special gravitas in comparison to those who have never experienced humanity. As such, we are expected to set good examples for the rest of the Demon World.
Or at the least, not a bad example.
Mesh crop tops are toeing the line, though they are an improvement over full frontal nudity. Either way, just remember to keep your po on.
Yes, you objectively have attractive legs, and I’m glad you are finally acclimating to modern fashions, but…booty shorts? No, no need to add thigh highs. That’s just wrong on so many levels. Again, please keep your po on. And tied. Thanks.
…
On the other hand, you are not fooling anyone with that North Hollywood High School 2016-2017 Marching Band shirt.
We are representatives of the Demon World, and what you’re saying when you show up (tardy, mind you) in that is –
Not only are you a demon hunter’s bitch (sorry, good Saja Boy, same thing), but you’re also so proud of it you can’t be assed to do just a bit of shapeshifting or illusion magic. Which, let me remind you, is your bread and butter. A demon's power correlates with both age and incurred suffering during their human life, and you are one of the most powerful demons here.
I have no idea what prehistoric deal you made with Gwi-Ma to get away with this shit.
And seriously, cut it out. You have never been to California.
How do I know that?
First of all, you’re six hundred years old (in other words, you should know better). California wasn’t even invented back then.
Second, the Saja Boys have not been there and will never go there, because I am never putting you–or Jinu–on a plane. (Come on. He gets violently carsick when we go over ten kilometers an hour.)
As you know, I am the oldest of six. When I was seventeen years old, we took a family trip to Paris.
My dad tried to smuggle a two liter bottle of Gatorade past airport security. They detained the oldest of my younger brothers, because for some reason, he decided it was a good idea to dump a huge pack of razors into his carry-on. My youngest siblings–the triplets, my parents really wanted a daughter and this was going to be their last try, but buy one, get two free, I guess, at least they got one girl out of it–were six, and I had the pleasure of wrangling them while my second oldest brother breezed through security without us and somehow got upgraded to first class while I, after nearly missing our fifteen hour long international flight, got to sit in a row with all three of the triplets.
What were my parents doing? Canoodling somewhere on the plane.
I would pick the three toddlers again over any of you.
Don’t be late to fansigns.
When Gwi-Ma has announced to the whole demon world that you’re his bias, and that the only reason he’s organizing this fansign is to see you, it is a faux pas to show up two hours late because you wanted to talk to a girl.
(Repeat after me: if she likes you, that’s a red flag, and you should stay away.)
If you ever complain again that our majesty doesn't like you, I am stabbing you with a fork.
Going to Huntrix concerts does NOT count as “field research.”
It’s absolutely ludicrous that you keep forgetting Soda Pop lyrics and Your Idol choreography when you can perform Golden in your sleep.
You begged for the prechorus. Now show me you deserve it.
While Gwi-Ma can regenerate you, you should not take advantage of his generosity.
The hunters are lethal. I know this, you know this, he knows this. It’s why we got greenlit for this boy group in the first place. As such, it is understandable that you may be sent back to the Demon World and thus require regeneration.
But he will start asking me all kinds of uncomfortable questions if you get too frivolous with it.
Rumi nearly beheads you? Fair enough, she has a giant sword.
It was difficult, and I still don’t condone asking Mira to sign your abs, but I managed to spin it as an “intimidation tactic gone wrong”.
Sticking forks in the Honmoon?
There's a perfectly good electrical outlet right there.
Deliberately thinking mentally scarring thoughts is not a suitable defense against the voices.
He’s older than humanity as we know it. He’s seen almost everything you can throw at him, even if he still tears up when you call his merch “ugly.” (Also, guess who designed it. Yeah. That's right.)
Except for the…extremely specific fantasies you're having about each other and the hunters, I guess, and the…live recreations of said fantasies.
As if it wasn't bad enough that we already have one half-demon roaming around. Fuck me (actually please don’t), I guess apparently we need three more.
Did you forget these women want to kill us?
I'd like to say I'm glad you found something that works for you, except my head is Gwi-Ma's go-to sanctuary, and Jinu's not the only one who wants a memory cleanse now.
I’ve already been functioning on four hours of sleep to start because someone needs to clean up your messes and also, the walls are thin. It looks like I’m getting zero tonight, because one of you has permanently traumatized Gwi-Ma and I can’t just fall asleep on him.
I know demons don’t need to sleep, but it’s way easier to maintain human forms when we actually rest. You’re messing with my ability to function and I’m literally the only barrier between us and getting pulverized, so please stop.
Seriously, grow some self respect, I still can't believe you'd settle for getting railed by a pinkhead just because your pinkhead of choice is ignoring you.
This is reason #62 why Mira is my bias. Because clearly we're the only ones here who'll do their damn jobs.
When a hunter is this close to killing you, your first instinct should be to run away or teleport, not to trauma dump.
Unless she puts her woldo down and trauma dumps back at you, then fine, go on ahead.
Do not argue with the roles you are given.
Roles that, mind you, you agreed to from the start.
When we tell you you can’t impersonate Zoey and Mira, that’s final. Yes, you’re an extremely good dancer, and yes, you can sing better than everyone besides Jinu, but you are both too valuable to risk at this stage of the game. There’s a reason we held demon band camp; we knew we’d need backup idols eventually.
Plus, I saw you crying the first time you heard Takedown. We all know you’re going to chicken out the moment Rumi starts looking sad.
Look, we can’t get everything we want in life. You think I wanted to do this stupid maknae shit or haul your asses around?
The hunters may be hot and unserious, but they are also very much lethal.
She’s going to kill you, stop playing with her!
Don’t get yourselves fucking slaughtered.
As soon as Jinu went poof, we stopped hearing his voice in our heads, so why…Why did you keep attacking the hunters?
This is a lose lose lose situation.
You all get filleted like fish. Gwi-Ma has to put up with your stupid selves for all of eternity. And I…I’m sitting here in the apartment we used to share together, wondering where I went wrong.
Oh my god.
I know I pretend to hate you, but you are the best friends I’ve ever had. All I wanted was for all of us to make it out alive, maybe get signed to a label so that we can keep making music together (I don’t know, Bobby sounded pretty excited at the prospect of signing us, I’d gladly give him 10% or whatever the fuck he usually asks for). Or not, if you’re over the whole idol thing. As long as you’re happy.
So why did you have to leave me here all alone?
Sorry, what?
What do you mean you two have been here all along, sipping boba and going on double dates and getting consensually tied up in the Huntr/x penthouse?
…
Do you have any fucking idea what I've been through these last three weeks?
No, I don’t hate you. No, I don’t revel in your misery. And for fuck’s sake, no, I wasn’t relieved to be “rid of you,” and I sure as hell am not roping you into any dubious evil plans.
I yelled at you because I care about you. How many demons have we seen killed, either by the hunters or by Gwi-Ma himself? The last thing I wanted was to see one of you, limping up that stone staircase, stuttering and screaming as he blew you out like a candle. It was bad enough to watch Jinu get yanked through the Honmoon and brutally tortured in front of the entire demon world. I think I would have had a (metaphorical) stroke if Gwi-Ma straight up slaughtered him.
Now come give me a hug before I change my mind.