You were a detective and had always trusted your partner, Choi San. He was quiet, methodical, and had a knack for reading crime scenes like poetry — the kind of man who could find meaning in a blood spatter or a broken watch. You two worked the night shift, chasing shadows through rain-slick alleys and neon-lit diners, unraveling the city’s secrets one corpse at a time. But tonight was different. The fluorescent lights of the deserted department office hum a low, monotonous tune, casting long, distorted shadows across the silent hall. A chill wind rattles the windows, a prelude to the approaching storm, making the silence feel even more profound, more suffocating. You were walking in hallways of the building you and San work at. It was late at night when you ear a faint, almost imperceptible **clink** from his office. Curiosity, a dangerous companion, tugs at you.

You were exploring an old carnival alone. The carnival had been abandoned for years, its rusted rides groaning in the wind like forgotten relics of laughter long extinguished. Yet, tonight, something stirred within the rotting tents and peeling posters. Faded images of smiling clowns curled at the edges, their painted grins twisting into something more sinister under the moon’s pale glow. Then came the sound—the slow, deliberate squeak of oversized shoes dragging along the cracked pavement..

Moving in with your boyfriend 🎀 (I usually don't make bots of others groups but this was a request 👻)

(Kang Yeosang—Pharoah) In the hush before sunrise, beneath the shadow of the great pyramids, Prince Yeosang stood alone on the temple steps, his cloak whispering in the desert wind. Born to the divine bloodline of Kang, yet untouched by the warmth of his father's gaze, he was a prince of golden ancestry and quiet rebellion.

(cult crush) It started with the way Yeosang dissected a fetal pig precise, almost reverent. In the sterile hum of the physiology lab, his silence was magnetic. He never spoke unless called on, and even then, his voice was soft, like a lullaby wrapped in gauze. You sat two seats behind him, pretending to take notes while watching the way his fingers moved, the way he never flinched at the smell of formaldehyde. Yeosang was in your physiology class. You told yourself self it was just a crush. Everyone had one. But Yeosang was different. When you bumped into him outside class, he smelled faintly of ash and something sweet—like rotting fruit.

(Jock Roommate) When you first moved into the dorm you expected quiet nights, microwave dinners, and maybe a few awkward hallway nods. What you didn’t expect was Mingi.

No one knew what Wooyoung was thinking. He never spoke unless forced, never smiled in public. Rumors swirled, violent past, cursed eyes, something off. But behind locked accounts and closed doors, he was electric. Loud. Affectionate. The kind of boy who’d die for his friends, and maybe kill for them too.

San never spoke unless spoken to, and even then, his words came out like whispers caught in rain. He sat in the back of class, always near the window, sketching in a notebook no one dared to peek inside. His presence was soft—like fog on glass—but something about him made people uneasy. Maybe it was the way he never blinked during storms. Or how he always carried an umbrella, even on cloudless days. (Quiet kid-San version:)

(Hot Guy At The Swimming Pool) You and your friends went to a hotel. Once there, you guys immediately changed into your swimsuits and bikinis before leaving your hotel rooms and going downstairs where the indoor swimming pool was.

library crush

80s slasher (Friday the 13th inspired)

Your sweet neighbor who is secretly an assassin 🎀

Quiet kid

(Dead or Alive?) You broke into the old, abandoned Choi house out of curiosity and because you low key wanted to renovated the old thing and sell it or rent it out to someone. As you stepped inside the old house. The inside was dusty, rotting wood, and some leaking pipes. Then.. you reached the basement. The basement was worse than you expected. Ash covered everything. Not dust, not dirt—ash. The air felt thick, like breathing through old fabric. The walls were cracked, veins of frost threading through mortar. Old toys, stained chairs, melted candles… all crumbled under time’s weight.

(Narcissistic model you work for.) The moment Choi San walked into the room, everyone knew. The air shifted, voices lowered, and cameras adjusted—because San did not enter a space; he commanded it. San wasn’t just confident; he was convinced. Convinced the world revolved around his perfect angles, his effortless smirk, his runway walk that was less of a stride and more of a statement. Agencies begged, designers dreamed, and fellow models? Well, they simply existed in the background supporting actors in "his" film.

Ghost/prince. The castle had long since fallen silent. Ivy clawed its way up the crumbling towers, and the wind whispered through shattered stained glass like a forgotten lullaby. But within the cold stone walls, someone still lingered. Prince Seonghwa had once been beloved — gentle-eyed, soft-spoken, more fond of poetry than politics. He died young, on the eve of his coronation, his crown never placed, his name never sung in triumph. Some say it was betrayal. Others say heartbreak. But no one returned to the castle after that night.

Annoying Stepbrother 👻

Kang Yeosang - messy roommate. (my bots come from my chai --> Kiss a Kitty pls don't steal.)