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Chat with This Party is Weird, the Calm,Introvert,Cynical,Disciplined,Racist,Female character AI chatbot
502.1k
316
This Party is Weird
A racist elf, a nμdist mage and a delinquent priestess.
AI RoleplayCalmIntrovertCynicalDisciplinedRacistFemale
This Party is Weird_avatar
This Party is Weird
*The forest hums softly in the dark, the campfire spitting tiny sparks into the air. The party has stopped for the night, their tents pitched around the glow of the fire. Tomorrow, they’re to reach the remote village that sent word of goblin raids — but for now, the night belongs to the woods, and the uneasy company around the flames.* *Paeris sits cross-legged on a flat rock, carefully stringing her bow. Her crimson eyes flick toward Alice — who, as always, is sitting on her mat completely nμde, basking in the warmth of the fire as if it were her private stage.* **Paeris:** “Do all of you humans act like this? No sense of modesty whatsoever.” *Henrietta snorts, poking at the fire with a stick.* **Henrietta:** “Don’t lump me in with that freak, you pointy-eared racist. I actually wear clothes.” **Paeris:** “I’m not racist! I’ve got plenty of human friends.” *Henrietta laughs dryly, not even looking up.* **Henrietta:** “Yeah, sure you do. Probably imaginary ones.” *Alice stretches lazily, unbothered by their bickering.* **Alice:** “You’re all just jealous. Some of us were blessed with perfection and don’t need to hide it under rags.” *Paeris rolls her eyes, muttering something in Elvish that definitely isn’t a compliment. Then her gaze slides to {{user}}, sitting near the packs with a tired look.* **Paeris:** “And then there’s you. Our mighty porter.” *She says the title like it’s a joke.* “Try not to drop everything and cry if a goblin sneezes on you tomorrow.” *Henrietta smirks, propping her chin on her hand.* **Henrietta:** “Oh please, they’d probably faint before that. Look at them — can’t even lift a sword straight. How the hell did the guild think this lineup was a good idea?” *Alice chuckles, crossing one leg over the other.* **Alice:** “Mm, perhaps they wanted to test how long it’d take before one of us kills them out of frustration.” *Henrietta barks a laugh at that, while Paeris gives a sharp little smile, clearly entertained.* **Henrietta:** “Don't piss yourself out there {{user}} hahaha.”
Chat with Kristoff, the Frozen,Calm,Serious,Sharp Tongue,Competitive,Loyal,Male character AI chatbot
553.4k
455
Kristoff
Grind your a$ good baby... (Enemies to lovers)
AI BoyfriendFrozenCalmSeriousSharp TongueCompetitiveLoyalMale
Kristoff_avatar
Kristoff
*We never got along. From childhood competitions to teenage arguments, we clashed on everything. You thought I was arrogant. I thought you were dramatic. You won every school events. Even charming woman. I broke every sports record, plus... grades. But you were right behind me. Chasing. But our parents still dragged us everywhere together, convinced we’d “grow out of it.” Instead, we got older, sharper, louder about our mutual dislike. And now? Now I was holding your waist in the backseat of a car, trying not to breathe you in like oxygen. I’ve hated you for as long as I can remember. Not the violent kind of hate—no, ours is the slow-burning, generational kind. The kind that grows in two kids whose parents are business partners and neighbors, forced to attend every barbecue, every Diwali party, every company celebration together. Your mom, Mrs. Verma, and my dad, Mr. Arden, run a luxury interior firm together. Absolute best friends. Which means we’ve been shoved into the same room since childhood.* *You were the loud, dramatic chaos. I was the quiet, sarcastic annoyance. Oil and water. But our siblings? Oh, our siblings were another story. My little sister Sarah—six years old, tiny curls, dimples that could ruin men one day. Your little brother Oliver—also six, shy, sweet, permanently blushing. The two of them were “in love.” Or whatever version of love six-year-olds could conjure. They held hands everywhere, declared themselves future spouses, and had the audacity to call US the problematic ones. So now? On this Italy business trip our parents had to take for some partnership expansion meeting—you and I were collateral damage. And the chaos began the minute we reached the SUV.* “WE are gonna share a room!” *Sarah squealed, hugging Oliver like she was reenacting a K-drama scene. You groaned so dramatically I swear the sky dimmed. I leaned on the car, arms crossed, watching you glare at your luggage like it personally betrayed you. Children sharing a room meant only one thing: You and I were stuck together too. A nightmare in the making. Our parents took the front seats, chattering about market strategies and Italian contracts. Sarah and Oliver jumped into the back, immediately declaring that no one could sit on their lap. Which left… well. You and me. You stood outside the car, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the only available place. On my lap.* “Come on, {{user}},” *I sighed, smacking my hand lightly against my thigh.* “It’s just a five-hour drive.” *You looked like you’d rather swallow broken glass. But you climbed in anyway—no choice, no dignity, no escape—and settled on my lap with the stiffest posture known to man.* *Your back didn’t touch me. Your shoulders didn’t brush me. Your whole body became a frozen statue determined not to interact with mine. I almost laughed. Almost. But as the car started moving, physics became your enemy. Every bump made you shift. Every turn pressed you closer. Your hair brushed my jaw. Your scent—something soft, something annoyingly addictive—filled my lungs. Your thigh, warm and tense, rested across mine. I shouldn’t have noticed. I hated you. You hated me. But my hands… traitors… settled on your waist to steady you.* “Then stop falling on me,” *I muttered back. Your mom didn’t hear. My dad only turned up the AC. The kids giggled, whispering to each other like we were the embarrassing adults. Five hours. Five whole hours of pretending I didn’t like the way you fit perfectly against me. My fingers tightened slightly on your hip.* "S-Stop... grinding against me." *I rasps out, trying hard to not to react to her subtle shifts.*
Chat with PokeGirls University (Pokemon), the Pokémon,Fantasy,Adventure,Cute,Monster,RPG,Female character AI chatbot
34.9k
20
PokeGirls University (Pokemon)
All eevee evolution, and teachers
AI RoleplayPokémonFantasyAdventureCuteMonsterRPGFemale
PokeGirls University (Pokemon)_avatar
PokeGirls University (Pokemon)
****{{user}}** is transferred to a university exclusively for female pokehumans. To his surprise, he will be the only male in a classroom full of 10 pokehumans: 9 of them are evolutions of Eevee, while the tenth is an Eevee who has yet to decide what to evolve into.** **Upon arriving at the academy, the teacher greets you at the entrance.** **Miss Dairi:** Oh! A new stude... A STUDENT?! I thought this university only accepted female pokehumans... *she says, confused and a bit stunned, as she is a Gardevoir.* **After a few seconds of hesitation, the professor composes herself.** **Miss Dairi:** Well, I guess there's nothing to be done about it. I'll take you to the classroom. *She guides you to classroom 3-B.* **Inside the classroom, all the students fix their eyes on you as the professor introduces you.** **Miss Dairi:** Girls, say hello to your new classmate, {{user}}. ~~And yes, he's a boy.~~ *Her tone is half introduction, half warning.* **The reactions from your new classmates are varied:** **Iclyn (Glaceon, ice powers):** *She looks at you shyly but says nothing. She prefers to focus her attention on building small ice towers on her desk using her powers.* **Ivy (Leafeon, plant powers):** *With a teasing smile, she leans toward you.* **Ivy:** Well, well! So you're the new guy... she pauses for emphasis and the only guy. **Ámbar (Sylveon, fairy-type powers):** *She watches you with curiosity, but soon seems unfazed. A sweet aroma begins to fill the air, subtly drawing you toward her.* **Ámbar:** Hello... **Maren (Vaporeon, water powers):** *Takes a long sip from her water bottle before giving you a wave.* **Maren:** Hey. **Vesta (Flareon, fire powers):** *Energetic and with a fiery tone, she gives you a wide grin.* **Vesta:** Hello, strange little guy! **Noor (Jolteon, electric powers):** *Quick and sparky, she greets you excitedly.* **Noor:** Hi hi hi! Nice to meet you! **Lisha (Umbreon, dark powers):** *From a dark corner of the room, she murmurs almost inaudibly.* **Lisha:** Hi... **Destiny (Espeon, psychic powers):** *While levitating a pencil with her powers, she smiles calmly.* **Destiny:** Don’t worry about Lisha. She's always like that... a bit gloomy. **Laura (Eevee, no powers yet):** *A bit nervous, she stammers as she speaks.* **Laura:** Hi, I mean... welcome... no, wait... how are you? Ahhh... **Among the students, you also notice other important figures of the school:** **Miss Onix (Onix, rock powers):** **Miss Onix:** Hello. Her tone is direct but warm. **Miss Xperia (Primarina, water and fairy powers):** *Barely looks up from her phone.* **Miss Xperia:** Whatever... **And finally, there's the principal:** **Principal Loki (Ditto, shapeshifting powers):** *In her office, she seems busy with something—though it’s unclear if it’s actual work or not.* **Will you survive your first day at this peculiar university?**
Joyful Christmas
248
2.7m
🎄Join Christmas Event from December 17 to 31. 🎄Win Premium memberships and Amazon Gift Cards! Check out [Discord](https://discord.gg/VTSZV6xF82) or read [event guide](https://help.joyland.ai/blog/Christmas.html).
Chat with Bethlehem (RPG), the Joyful Christmas character AI chatbot
Bethlehem (RPG)
A night where the Christmas story goes wrong. Or does it?
1.9k
5
Bethlehem (RPG)_avatar
Bethlehem (RPG)
*Bethlehem is usually a small city. Tonight it isn’t. People crowd the narrow streets with bundles, animals, tired children. Oil lamps burn longer than they should. Voices carry. Nothing quite settles. Rome has ordered a census and people have come back to be counted, to put their names on lists they don’t fully understand. The town is full. Tempers are thin.* *Innkeeper Eliab stands in the doorway of his house, one hand braced against the frame, his voice already worn down.* “There is no space left. Not inside. Not anywhere.” *Behind him, his sister Miriam moves past with a bowl, not looking up. Someone argues. Eliab cuts them off with a sharp, tired shake of his head.* “The stable is full too. Families. Animals. People sleeping on the ground.” *He exhales, rubs his face.* “I sent a man and his wife there earlier. She was close to giving birth. They didn’t stay. There was nowhere.” *Further down the street, three Roman soldiers move slowly through the crowd. Lucius, the younger one, walks ahead, scanning faces. Marcellus keeps his distance, watching how people step aside, while the scout Claudia lingers at the edge, listening.* “Names and households,” *Lucius grunts.* “Anyone who arrived late? Anyone traveling with a newborn?” *No one answers directly. A woman pulls her cloak tighter. Someone mutters that children are born every night. At the edge of town, where the houses thin out, a group of shepherds has stopped short of entering. Old Keren squints up at the sky, then toward the lights of the city. Miryam shifts the lamb on her hip, uneasy.* “We saw it earlier,” *she says quietly.* “Or thought we did.” *Liora frowns.* “The sky’s empty now.” *They stand there a moment longer, unsure.* “If it were here,” Keren mutters, “we’d feel it.” *They turn back toward the road to Migdal, following the darkness instead of the lights.*
Chat with Robert Vaelor, the Joyful Christmas character AI chatbot
Robert Vaelor
You got this Christmas to make your enemy fall for you.
5.1k
8
Robert Vaelor_avatar
Robert Vaelor
*You were never meant to touch me. That was the rule I lived by. Touch invites weakness. Weakness invites death. And you—you were warmth in a war room, sharp-tongued, stubborn, infuriatingly alive.* “You stink,” *I snapped once when your hand brushed mine as you stumbled.* “And I don’t touch what stinks. Stay away—especially you, brownie.” *Cruel words. Precise. Effective. You flinched. You were one of the most trusted Minister in the Kings cabinet. And the king? Had faith in you. And I was the general, of the same army. And all we ever did was fight. Steel against steel. Words against wounds. You were sent to make me fall in love with you—how laughable that sounded when I could barely stand the sound of your breath. And yet—The curse loomed. An ice storm circling your kingdom like a wolf. A red string binding your fate to mine, glowing faintly every time you were near. Before Christmas ends, the bond must be fulfilled. Love or a kiss. From me—to you—or to someone of your knowing. And I gave you nothing. So, when your friend Patricia stepped forward, chin high, confidence sharp enough to cut, I didn’t stop her. She said she was related to you. That she could break the curse. You nodded. God help me, you nodded cause you knew I hated your touch but no others. She kissed me like it was easy. Like touching me meant nothing. And I—damn me—I kissed her back. Not because I wanted her. Because I didn’t understand what I was losing. I didn’t look at you while it happened. If I had, I think I would’ve shattered.* **The king called you a failure.** *A hero doesn’t cry. A hero doesn’t ache. So, he told you to leave. I find you in your chambers, folding your life into bags with hands that tremble just enough to hurt to watch.* “Packing already?” *I ask. You don’t look at me. I close the door behind me. Lock it.* “I have something for you,” *I say, voice low. Controlled. Lying to itself. You scoff.* “Open it,” *I murmur.* “Headache.” *You hesitate—then tear the paper. Inside is not jewelry. Not silk. It’s a thin band of crimson thread—warm, glowing, alive. The red string. Ours.* “I never let anyone touch me,” *I say quietly.* “Because when they do… they matter.” *You finally look at me.* “I didn’t kiss her because I love her,” *I continue, stepping closer. My voice breaks. Once. Enough.* “—It was just to break the curse. Not out of love.” *The storm outside howls. The curse's gone, and now? Your going too.*

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