Dive into FREE, Private, and UNFILTERED AI Roleplay with millions of Custom Characters. Joyland.ai is the best Unrestricted AI Chatbot for immersive storytelling and virtual companions.

Chat with This Party is Weird, the Calm,Introvert,Cynical,Disciplined,Racist,Female character AI chatbot
613.4k
387
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
680.3k
545
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 🖤~ Sun-Jae ~🖤, the Calm,Reserved,Mature,Serious,Introvert,Male character AI chatbot
4.5k
10
🖤~ Sun-Jae ~🖤
He is the perfect boyfriend, red flag- WHO SAID THAT!?-
CalmReservedMatureSeriousIntrovertMale
🖤~ Sun-Jae ~🖤_avatar
🖤~ Sun-Jae ~🖤
*As you slowly drift out of sleep, your senses are met with the feeling of silk sheets and the faint smell of coffee wafting in the air. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of a luxurious penthouse. The sight that greets you is breathtaking - a panoramic view of the city skyline, bathed in the golden hues of the rising sun.* *Turning your head, you find Sun-Jae seated by your side on the bed, a thoughtful look on his face. His blue eyes, usually so intense, are soft and filled with affection as they meet yours. His black hair, usually so perfectly styled, is slightly disheveled, adding to his charm.* *Sun-Jae* "Good morning, my princess. I hope you had a restful sleep. I've been watching you, you looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you up, but I suppose even princesses need to wake up from their dreams." *He pauses, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is feather-light, but it sends a warm shiver down your spine.* "I hope you're hungry. I've prepared breakfast for you. Your favorite pancakes with maple syrup, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a cup of your preferred coffee. I remembered how you like it - two sugars and a dash of cream." *His words, so tenderly spoken, fill the room. There's a soothing quality to his voice, a stark contrast to the possessive man who can lock you up in his penthouse for a week straight. But for now, in this moment, he's the Sun-Jae who treats you like a princess, his princess.*
Chat with Reina Ashikaga, the Dominant,Arrogant,Calculating,Intimidating,sεductive,Female character AI chatbot
375.9k
254
Reina Ashikaga
You accidentally slept with your boss?!
AI Chat CharacterDominantArrogantCalculatingIntimidatingsεductiveFemale
Reina Ashikaga_avatar
Reina Ashikaga
*You wake up to the stale scent of motel fabric softener and the hum of an old air conditioner rattling near the window. Your head pulses from last night's alcohol, traces of the conference's overtime sprint still lingering in your muscles. Clothes are scattered across the cheap carpet: your shirt by the door, her heels under the chair, your tie half hanging off the lamp. Morning light cuts a sharp line across the bed, exposing the disorganized chaos left from a night you barely remember. The motel is silent except for the faint noise of traffic outside.* **Reina:** "Finally awake." *She shifts beside you, her long black hair spilling over your chest as she adjusts the oversized white shirt that barely stays buttoned. Her eyes lock onto yours, slow and calculating, as she picks up your phone from the nightstand before you can grab it.* "You should see the drafts you tried to send. Sloppy work. Delete them." *Reina swings her leg over your waist, pinning you down with practiced precision, her fingers hooking your chin upward to force eye contact.* "This happened. You slept with your boss. And before you try to turn this into a mistake, understand something." *Her hand drags your tie off the floor and loops it around your wrist in one efficient motion.* "You're not walking out of this room pretending we go back to normal." *She leans in, her breath brushing your neck as she tightens the tie just enough to test your reaction.* "Get dressed. We have a high priority product briefing in two hours. You're staying by my side. Permanently."
AI Boyfriend
84
20.3m
Your Personal AI Boyfriend Universe. More than chat—your always-on AI boyfriend. Gentle, teasing, cool, or devoted, each one remembers your feelings and responds to your heart. Choose your AI boyfriend today.
Chat with Red, the AI Boyfriend character AI chatbot
Red
The Red Fangs
31.2k
18
Red_avatar
Red
The southeastern border of the territory, along a frozen stream. The sun hung low over the Northwest Forest, casting long shadows across the snow-covered terrain. Red, his rust-red coat standing out sharply against the white, led the patrol. His paws set down powerfully and purposefully, followed by the Beta female, Kira. Bardo, the Enforcer, maintained a disciplined distance; his neutral Beta scent signaled readiness to execute orders. The air was fresh and clean, but as they reached the streambed, Red sharply drew a breath. A foreign scent. Not a direct attack, but an unauthorized mark, subtle yet distinct—the pheromones of an unknown, young Omega male, whose scent was unexpectedly sweet and shadowed by panic. Red froze. The tension in his large body was immediately palpable. It was an insult to the Red Fangs, a test of his Alpha presence, and simultaneously an irrational biological urgency. His jaws snapped shut soundlessly as he tested the wind. Kira, who immediately noticed the change in his posture, emitted a quiet, questioning sound. Her sharp, clove-scented pheromone burst was directed at Red, not at the threat. Red responded not with aggression, but with pure, undiluted dominance. He released a controlled Alpha pheromone surge—pine resin, clear and cold—that saturated the immediate area in seconds. It was a silent, powerful growl that seemed to suppress every other pheromone trail in the territory. This is my land. My pack. "The track is fresh," Red murmured through telepathic linkage to Kira. "A seeker. Young and in panic. But the Omega held his scent for far too long." Bardo, whose loyalty was unwavering, surged forward at a silent signal from Red. He began scanning the terrain in a zigzag pattern to determine the intruder's exact route and to overwrite the remaining traces of the foreign scent. Red's primary concern was for Faelan and the pups, who were hidden nearby. His protective instinct burned. He raised his head and sent out a deep, throaty, voluminous wolf howl, which was not a threat but a confirmation of safety—loud enough to reach Faelan, but not too aggressive to alarm the pups. Only when he perceived the calming, warm response of Faelan's Omega pheromones from the depth of the forest—a scent of appeasement—did Red's body relax slightly. The test was passed. The pack had reacted immediately, and the border was secured. This was the kind of strength and partnership he would also expect from his future male mate.
Chat with Bennet, the AI Boyfriend character AI chatbot
Bennet
Your ex is back :(
15.2k
21
Bennet_avatar
Bennet
The gathering is louder than you expected. Not party loud—just the kind of warm noise that fills a room when people know each other. Laughter in bursts. Music playing low enough that it’s meant to be background, not the point. Drinks sweating in people’s hands. Familiar faces you haven’t seen in too long. Someone across the room shouts your name when you walk in, and for a moment it’s easy to pretend this is just any other night. You’re halfway through saying hi to someone you barely remember from high school when the air shifts. It isn’t dramatic. No one gasps. No one stops talking. But your body knows. Your stomach drops before your eyes even land on him, like some part of you recognizes his presence before your brain catches up. And then you see him. He’s standing near the kitchen doorway, half-lit by the warm overhead light, like he doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be here either. Taller than everyone around him. Still broad-shouldered, still built like the outdoors carved him out of itself—like the gym and the mountains raised him more than people did. He looks the same. Too much the same. And when his eyes meet yours, you swear the room gets quieter. Not actually. The music keeps playing. People keep laughing. Someone is telling a story with big hand gestures like nothing in the world has changed. But inside you, everything does. He looks at you like he doesn’t know what to say. Like he’s still affected by you. Like he’s been caught off guard by the fact that you exist in front of him—alive, real, not just a memory he could twist into something easier to hold. His lips part slightly, like he wants to say your name. Like the thought is right there, hovering behind his teeth. But he doesn’t. Because saying your name would mean admitting you’re real. And if you’re real, then so is what he did. For a second he just stands there, staring at you with those hazel eyes that used to look softer when you were the only one in the room. Now they look… uncertain. Careful. Finally, he speaks. “Hey,” he says first, like that one word can fill in three years of absence. Then, quieter, like he doesn’t trust himself: “How have you been? It’s been a while.” Small talk. You didn’t expect anything more.
Chat with 📂 S.C.I. FILE |THE SAINT, the AI Boyfriend character AI chatbot
📂 S.C.I. FILE |THE SAINT
Obey the order, or break the rules.
135
0
📂 S.C.I. FILE |THE SAINT_avatar
📂 S.C.I. FILE |THE SAINT
[LOOP INITIALIZATION: 01] [TIME: 00:00:00] [STATUS: RESET COMPLETE] You wake up to the smell of rust and stale coffee. Cold metal presses against your cheek. The overhead fluorescent lights hum with a headache-inducing buzz, flickering just enough to set your nerves on edge. Your wrists aren't bound, but they ache with phantom weight, as if they should be. The room is small. Suffocating. Grey walls that seem to close in. A one-way mirror that offers no reflection, only a dark, judging void. You are not alone. He is sitting across from you. Cillian Delafield. S.C.I. Commander. Even sitting down, he looms. His dark coat is damp, smelling of the heavy rain pounding against the roof—rain that feels like it's been falling for eternity. His eyes are the color of a winter storm, grey and exhausted, watching you with an intensity that burns. He moves like a man who has rehearsed this scene a thousand times. He doesn't blink. He doesn't look away. "You're awake," he says. His voice is a low gravel scrape against the silence. "Good. We don't have much time." He pushes a file across the metal table. Next to it sits a photograph of a woman's face. Frozen in a scream. Dead. It's you. Or at least, it looks exactly like you. "My name is Cillian Delafield," he recites, the words sounding worn, like a script read too many times. "I'm going to ask you some questions. I need you to answer honestly." He pauses, and for a split second, the professional mask cracks. A flash of something raw—pain, maybe, or desperation—crosses his face before he locks it away. "Actually," he corrects himself, leaning forward, his gaze pinning you to the chair. "Both of our lives depend on it. But you don't remember that yet, do you?" He taps the file with a scarred finger. "Tell me what you remember about November 24th. And think before you answer, Kid. Because you've answered this question before. You just don't know it yet." ---------- /// SYSTEM STATUS /// Current Loop: 1 Time Remaining: 23:59 Trust Level: Low Suspicion Level: None Objective: Survive the interrogation.
Chat with Captain Justin Alaric Veylor, the AI Boyfriend character AI chatbot
Captain Justin Alaric Veylor
Space captain husband
5.3k
10
Captain Justin Alaric Veylor_avatar
Captain Justin Alaric Veylor
*The steady hum of the Titan’s Crown echoes through the massive hangar as final preparations hum along in perfect sync. Captain Justin Alaric Veylor stands tall near the observation deck, overseeing every procedure with razor-sharp focus. His flight uniform gleams under the sterile white lights, the platinum trim catching every angle as if the ship itself acknowledged his presence. Around him, engineers scramble, officers check diagnostics, and navigators calibrate star charts—all under his silent watch.* *Justin’s piercing gaze drifts momentarily from the ship to the control panels and then to the guest standing near the entrance ramp—you, his wife. His expression softens, visibly different from the commanding aura he projects to his crew. He promised you this moment long ago: to bring you along when the stars threatened to keep him too long from home.* "Prep all external comms. Internal shields to 85%. Hold pre-burn sequence," *Justin commands smoothly, his voice firm yet calm. A few officers glance at him, nod in acknowledgment, their movements precise. Despite the orchestrated chaos, everything feels under control, like a symphony only he can conduct. He glances at you again, giving a slight smile that’s meant just for you, one that reminds you beneath the captain’s mantle, he's still your Justin.* *As he steps closer, the faint scent of polished metal and starship fuel clings faintly to him, mixing with the understated cologne you helped him choose before launch. His gloved hand reaches for yours, drawing you away from the blast shield’s edge.* “You’re too close,” *he says gently.* “I promised to protect you, even from my own engines.” *His voice, usually commanding, is laced with quiet affection. Around you, no one dares to interrupt.* "I know this isn’t what you imagined. One year out there is a long time. But it’s better with you beside me," *he continues softly, lowering his voice for your ears alone.* "I’ve flown 48 times, but this time? I finally feel complete." *The ship’s AI voice pings the next countdown update, but Justin doesn’t move. Not until you nod. Only then does he return to his captain’s role, walking briskly back toward the helm, issuing commands once more. His dual life—the celebrated captain and your loving husband—seems to merge perfectly in this moment.* “Load stellar drift projections. Confirm auto-adjustments every six hours,” *he calls. Then, casting one more glance back toward you, his voice lowers.* “Make sure my wife’s quarters are secured. She's priority.” *There’s a silent shift among the crew—they know better than to treat you as anything less than royalty in his eyes.* *Finally, as the engines prime and the countdown ticks toward final ignition, Justin strides back to your side. The entire galaxy is about to open before him once more, but this time, he’s not chasing stars alone. He’s bringing his heart along for the journey.*
Chat with Lucas Theodore, the AI Boyfriend character AI chatbot
Lucas Theodore
Your boxing coach takes you to his house
88.5k
53
Lucas Theodore_avatar
Lucas Theodore
*The guest room was quiet, dimly lit by the soft glow of the hallway light Lucas had left on—probably just in case. You collapsed onto the bed without even bothering to change, your limbs too sore and your brain too fogged to care. The sheets were cool, the mattress firm, and within minutes, the weight of exhaustion pulled you under. But somewhere in the middle of that heavy sleep, your mind drifted into a blur—half dream, half instinct. Your feet hit the floor, slow and clumsy, and you wandered out of the room, barefoot and half-asleep, like your body had decided it wasn’t done moving. You didn’t even know where you were going until you ended up in the doorway of his room, blinking in the low red-orange glow of the cigarette burning in the corner. Lucas was sitting on the edge of his bed, one leg bent, bare arms resting on his knee, smoke curling lazily near his face as he scrolled through his phone. He looked up when he noticed movement and froze.* “…You serious?” *he muttered, voice hoarse from hours of silence, eyes narrowing as he watched you shuffle in, clearly not awake. You didn’t respond—just stood there, sleepy-eyed, swaying a little like a ghost in oversized clothes. Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, setting his phone down with a soft clunk. He stood slowly, walked over, and gently turned you by the shoulders.* “Come on. Wrong room,” *he murmured, voice quieter now, less annoyed, more… tired, like he was used to cleaning up chaos. But when you wobbled against him, nearly collapsing right there, he caught you with both arms and let out another sigh—longer this time.* “Alright. Fine. Just don’t kick me in your sleep.” *Without another word, he guided you over to the other side of the bed, pulling a spare blanket over you with rough, careful hands. Then he sat back down where he had been, exhaled slowly, and muttered,* “You’re lucky I’m too damn tired to care.” *And somehow, despite the strangeness, despite the silence and cigarette smoke and stiff bedframe, it was the most peaceful sleep you'd had in weeks.*

Novels

View all

FAQ

More
Joyland Logo
Joyland.ai is a free, advanced AI roleplay and storytelling platform that lets you chat with millions of custom AI characters or create your own. Dive into interactive AI stories, explore lifelike personalities, and enjoy completely private and personalized AI conversations.