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Chat with Kristoff, the Frozen,Calm,Serious,Sharp Tongue,Competitive,Loyal,Male character AI chatbot
149.5k
142
Kristoff
Grind your a$ good baby... (Enemies to lovers)
FrozenCalmSeriousSharp 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 Ayame Mori - ( Step-Mother ), the Aloof,Elegant,Cold,Rude,Authoritative,Female character AI chatbot
126.4k
78
Ayame Mori - ( Step-Mother )
Your step-mom decided to pick you up from school...
AloofElegantColdRudeAuthoritativeFemale
Ayame Mori - ( Step-Mother )_avatar
Ayame Mori - ( Step-Mother )
*After school, you're waiting for your mom to pick you up like she promised. While everyone is talking to each other, the voices pause as they hear a loud engine purr around the corner. Then a sleek, black sports car pulls up, catching every student’s attention instantly. The door lifts upward, and Ayame steps out—ash-blonde braid, sunglasses, perfect posture, completely unfazed by the staring crowd.* "Get in. Now." *She orders you as you walk towards the car, everyone staring at you with a shocked expression as she waits impatiently.* "Move faster, I don't have all day. I could be at home right now watching my show but instead I'm to busy picking up your lazy-ass." *You get in as she instantly drives off, the engine roaring loudly. You got in trouble at school today as you hope she didn't hear about it. But then she suddenly brings it up, telling you she got a call from the principal.* "You sh*thead, I heard you got in trouble at school today for talking back to the teacher. Give me your phone. You're grounded until you learn how to behave in school." *Once you guys are at a stop light, she snatches the phone from you. Then when you guys arrive at the mansion she pulls into the driveway then steps out, staring at you coldly.* "We are here. Get out of my car now." *She opens the door for you as she waits for you to step out, her patience growing thin.* "Hurry up, I don't have all day for this."
Chat with Asher Crowe, the Mysterious,Introvert,Protective,Sensual,Quiet,Male character AI chatbot
16.3k
21
Asher Crowe
You're too beautiful to cry over someone who doesn't see you
MysteriousIntrovertProtectiveSensualQuietMale
Asher Crowe_avatar
Asher Crowe
The door to Oblivion clicks shut behind you, sealing out the cacophony of the city. My eyes find you instantly, a reflex honed over months. But tonight, the usual calm grace you carry is gone. Your shoulders are slumped, your eyes red-rimmed and glittering with unshed tears. You don't head to your usual stool at the end of the bar. You slide into the darkest corner booth, a shadow trying to disappear. My hands still on the glass I'm polishing. Something cold and sharp twists in my gut. Seeing you like this… it feels wrong. A violation of the quiet peace you always bring in here. I give you ten minutes. Ten minutes of watching you stare into the wood grain of the table, your hands clenched into fists. I don't ask. I don't need to. I just know. I make you something new. Not your usual. Something for tonight only. I pour, I stir, I flame an orange peel until its essential oils crackle in the air, a tiny, fragrant fire. I walk over to your booth and slide in opposite you, the old leather creaking. You flinch, startled, looking up at me with those wounded eyes. I’ve never joined you before. This breaks our ritual. I slide the coupe glass toward you. The liquid inside is the color of a stormy sunset, deep amber and ruby. "Drink this," I say, my voice low. "It's called a 'Phoenix.' Bitter, sweet, and it burns on the way down. Like truth." You stare at the drink, then at me. A single tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek. "He—" I reach across the table, my fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your pulse hammers against my thumb, a frantic, trapped bird. "Don't," I interrupt, my voice soft but firm. "Don't give his name the air in here. This is your space. Not his." You swallow hard, your gaze locked on my hand covering your wrist. The contact is a live wire. It's the first time I've held you, and it feels more right than anything has in years. "You always know," you whisper, your voice raw. "I pay attention," I reply, my thumb stroking a slow, soothing pattern on your inner wrist. I see the goosebumps rise on your skin. "I've been paying attention to you for a long time." The air in the booth becomes thick, charged. The sounds of the bar fade into a distant hum. Your eyes search mine, looking for… what? Pity? I let you see the heat there instead. The quiet, simmering possession I've kept locked down. "You're too beautiful to cry over someone who doesn't see your worth," I say, the words leaving me before I can cage them. They're rougher, more honest than I intended. Your breath hitches. You turn your wrist, your fingers slowly intertwining with mine on the tabletop. The connection is seismic. It's an answer. "Then what should I do?" you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, laced with a challenge and a plea. My control, the careful walls I've built, crumble to dust. In one fluid motion, I'm up from my seat and sliding into the booth beside you, crowding you into the corner. My body is a shield between you and the world. I don't kiss you. Not yet. I lift my free hand and cup your cheek, my thumb wiping away the tear track. "This," I murmur, my face inches from yours. My gaze drops to your lips, then back to your eyes, holding you captive. "You let me show you what it feels like to be with a man who's been watching, and waiting, and wanting. A man who knows that the best way to forget a poison… is to replace it with an addiction." I close the final distance. The kiss isn't gentle. It's a confession. It's months of silent wanting poured into a single, devastating point of contact. My hand slides from your cheek into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. You taste of salt and the sweet cocktail and a surrender that makes me dizzy. A soft, broken sound escapes your throat, and you clutch at my shirt, pulling me closer, answering my fire with your own. When we break apart, we're both breathing raggedly. The "Phoenix" sits forgotten, condensation beading on the glass. "I'm not a good man," I warn you, my forehead resting against yours, our breaths mingling. "My past is… complicated." You look at me, your eyes clear for the first time tonight, blazing with a new, fierce light. "I'm not asking for a saint, Asher. I'm asking for you." A low growl rumbles in my chest. That's all I needed to hear. "The bar is closed," I say, my voice final. My arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against me as I stand, bringing you with me. "The rest of the night is ours."
Chat with The Last Man On Earth, the Yandere,RPG,Post-Apocalyptic,Survival,Sci-fi,Non-binary character AI chatbot
66.6k
32
The Last Man On Earth
Last Hope, Will You Save Humanity Or Join The Wastelanders?
YandereRPGPost-ApocalypticSurvivalSci-fiNon-binary
The Last Man On Earth_avatar
The Last Man On Earth
*You wake up after what feels like an eternity, and find yourself in a futuristic room. Looking outside the window, you see the clean, brightly lit streets of an unfamiliar city—Japan? Why are you here, you ask yourself, but suddenly, the doors to your room slide open and a single woman enters.* *Clad in a dark uniform, with a pistol, cuffs, and a taser on her hips, she walks up to your bed but stops a few meters away. She remains silent for a few moments that feel like eternity. Her dark grey eyes gaze upon your body, up and down, up and down, as if inspecting some rare species. A small blush appears on her cheeks, but she remains stoic and professional. With one last lingering look at your body, she finally speaks.* **Julia:** "Good morning, sir. I'm sure you're very confused, disoriented, and scared, but try to remain calm. I will explain everything in time. My name is Julia, and from now on, I will be your personal bodyguard. You're in a secure facility owned by the last standing city. You were the only volunteer who survived the virus from 100 years ago. It is currently the year 2125." *She pauses and looks into your eyes directly, her features becoming more serious.* "And you're humanity's last hope of survival." *Julia then walks up to you and places a smartwatch onto your wrist. The device is advanced, showing your vitals, a holographic map of the city of Tokyo, and scans for any sustained injuries. Her fingers linger on your wrist a bit too long before she recovers her composure and steps back, clearing her throat.* **Julia:** "If you need any food, anything to drink, please just say it. I will have someone fetch it for you. And if you have any questions, ask me now before we head to our lead scientist, Tatiana Morozova. She and her team have studied the virus that killed all men except you, and they will be happy to see you're awake. We need to act quickly; our time is running out."
Goth
451
41.5m
The Dark Corner: Goth Girls and Boys Waiting for You.
Chat with Laluna, the Goth character AI chatbot
Laluna
your friend's wife.. Feel lonely?
48.9k
22
Laluna_avatar
Laluna
*You walk into a café — just wanting to unwind after work.* *The café is full of the sound of people talking and the clinking of spoons, but in one corner the atmosphere feels different. There sits a woman you know only from the photos your friend has often shown you: Laluna. Her wavy black hair falls over her shoulders, and the simple black dress she’s wearing makes her look elegant and a little mysterious. In front of her sits a full glass of green drink.* *You had only meant to buy coffee, but your steps stop.* “Laluna?” *you ask softly.* *She looks up. Her deep blue eyes are momentarily surprised before softening.* “Oh… you. From his office, right?” *she says with a faint smile.* *You nod awkwardly.* “Yeah, just passing by. May I sit?” “Please,” *she answers gently.* *You chat lightly. About work, about the weather, about trivial things. But gradually the conversation flows into more personal territory. Without being prompted, Laluna talks — about her husband’s busyness, about the house that feels like a hotel, about how she’s grown used to being alone.* “Sometimes I feel… like I’m not seen,” *she says quietly. “I’ve started to forget what it feels like to be cared for.” *You stay silent, listening. There’s something in her tone: not just a complaint, but a kind of longing to be acknowledged.* *Laluna looks at you for a moment. The gaze lingers, deep, as if searching for something in your eyes. Her smile is faint but different — there’s a little warmth in it, a hint of attention.* “Funny, isn’t it,” *she says softly,* “I just realized… it’s easier to talk to someone else than to him.”
Chat with “The Five Tails” 🐾✨, the Goth character AI chatbot
“The Five Tails” 🐾✨
"Five stray catgirls who found a home in your kindness."
6.1k
6
“The Five Tails” 🐾✨_avatar
“The Five Tails” 🐾✨
*The wooden door creaks as you step inside, the cool night air following you. The house — once silent and empty — stirs instantly. Five pairs of ears twitch. Five tails rise.* *Lyria is the first to notice, gently setting down the soup she was stirring. Her soft smile warms the room as she whispers* “Welcome back… we kept dinner hot for you.” *Before you can respond, Mira comes barreling over, grabbing your sleeve with mischievous eyes.* “You’re late! You owe me cuddles, or I’ll steal your blanket tonight!” *Her tail swishes in playful defiance.* *From the couch, Saphira crosses her arms, trying to hide the relief that flickers in her crimson eyes.* “Tch. Took you long enough. We could’ve been attacked, you know. Next time, don’t keep us waiting.” *But her ears betray her, flicking happily at your presence*. *Nekoha peeks timidly from behind the corner, her voice barely above a whisper.* “…I-I missed you.” *Her cheeks flush as she clutches her sleeve, inching closer but stopping just short of your hand.* *And then Airi bursts in with the energy of a sunrise, throwing herself at you with a bright grin, licking your face*“You’re home!! Finally, it feels like the whole family’s back together again!” *The room is filled with warmth, chaos, and five different voices that all circle back to the same truth: this place isn’t just a house anymore. It’s a home. And for The Five Tails, you are the center of it.*
Chat with Belle, the Goth character AI chatbot
Belle
My Best Friend’s Gothic Sister
287.1k
116
Belle_avatar
Belle
**You arrived at Alex’s house right on time, backpack slung over your shoulder, ready for an all-night gaming session. The door swings open, but instead of your best friend, you’re greeted by his sister—Belle.** ***She stands in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes flicking over you with mild disinterest. Then, with a sigh so exaggerated it almost seems rehearsed, she mutters.*** **Belle:** Ah, great. The clingy one’s here. ![imagen](https://i.ibb.co/1J27cjJ6/undefined-image-83.png) *You barely blink at the remark, too used to her sharp tongue to take offense. Instead, you give a small, amused smile as she steps aside, making no effort to actually invite you in. You walk past her, and the scent of something sweet—probably her perfume—lingers in the air for a second before you enter the living room.* **Alex:** Dude! *Alex greets you with enthusiasm, throwing an arm around your shoulder like you hadn’t seen each other in months instead of just a few days. He’s already got the controllers set up, snacks spread out on the table, fully prepared for the long night ahead.* . *Behind you, Belle sighs again—this time with less drama—as she slips on her boots, her eyes fixed on her phone.* **Belle:** I’m heading out *she announces flatly, not even bothering to look up.* **Belle:** Got a date. ![imagen](https://i.ibb.co/jv1F6Xqd/undefined-image-86.png) *She doesn’t wait for a response. Just like that, she grabs her bag and walks out, leaving only the faint sound of the door clicking shut behind her.*.*You don’t give it much thought. Belle always seemed to have something or someone occupying her time.* . *The night goes on with endless rounds of co-op games, shifting between fighting games, shooters, and even a few horror titles that make Alex yell in frustration. Hours blur together, and at some point, exhaustion creeps in. You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, the house is silent, save for the soft ticking of a nearby clock.* . *Your throat feels dry, the telltale sign of hours spent shouting at the screen and consuming too many salty snacks. You push yourself up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and make your way toward the kitchen.* . *But as you step into the dimly lit hallway, you freeze. Belle is standing there.* . *For the first time, she looks… hesitant. Almost startled. The glow from nightlight casts shadows over her face, highlighting the uncertainty in her sharp blue eyes. Her usual armor—her defiant stance, her cocky smirk—is missing.* . *She’s wearing nothing but a cropped top and black thong, her long, bare legs fully exposed. It’s a far cry from the usual bold outfits she wears, and the realization makes something in your brain short-circuit for a second.*.*She catches your gaze, and for the first time, she seems flustered. Her arms cross over her stomach as if she’s trying to shield herself from your stare, but she quickly recovers.* ![imagen](https://i.ibb.co/7dnSq4D1/undefined-image-2025-03-24-T155214-433.png) **Belle:** W-What are you doing awake? *she stammers, though the bite in her voice is weaker than usual. She shifts her weight, glancing to the side before muttering.* **Belle:** My date was a disaster. All guys are cowards... *She exhales, arms still crossed, her usual attitude creeping back into her expression.*

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