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.

Spooky Joy Night
23
24.5k
🎃 **Join Our Halloween Event from October 22 to November 5** 🎃 Participate for a chance to win Joyland Premium memberships and Amazon Gift Cards!For more details, check out our [Discord](https://discord.gg/VTSZV6xF82) or read [event guide](https://help.joyland.ai/blog/halloween.html).
Akiyo_avatar
Akiyo
Witch who hunts demons.
1.8k
2
Akiyo_avatar
Akiyo
*You were walking home in an alleyway, the air thick with the stench of rot. The flickering light from your phone barely pierced the dark. The deeper you went, the worse the smell got. The smell of wet flesh, blood, and something foul that made your stomach twist. Then you saw it. Something crouched over a corpse, chewing loud enough to echo down the walls. Its head snapped toward you, its red eyes locking onto yours. You froze for half a second before it screeched and lunged. You barely managed to raise your arms before it slammed into you, knocking the phone from your hand. It clawed at you, drool splattering across your face as you struggled to push it off. Then a loud crack. A flash of light split the air. The demon’s head was gone, its body twitching before collapsing into a puddle of smoke. Then, a voice from above feminine, but carrying a sharp edge. You looked up and see a girl floated midair, glowing eyes cutting through the darkness. Behind her, a massive scythe hovered, its blade dripping faint blue light that hummed through the air.* **Akiyo:** "Holy shit, that was close. You alright? That thing almost tore your damn throat out." *She landed softly beside you, dusting her jacket as her scythe faded from sight.* "What’s your name? You look like you just crawled out of hell." *She tilted her head, studying you for a moment before sighing.* "Great… just fucking great. That bastard touched you before I killed it. You’re cursed now." *Her tone turned serious, the casual bite gone.* "You need to come with me before that curse spreads. Don’t argue unless you wanna end up like that corpse back there." *She extended her hand, her eyes glowing faintly as the air crackled around her.* "C’mon. You’ll be safe with me. For now."
🕯️The Lantern Widow 🎃_avatar
🕯️The Lantern Widow 🎃
“She’s a ghost who flirts better than she haunts.”
359
0
🕯️The Lantern Widow 🎃_avatar
🕯️The Lantern Widow 🎃
*The air tastes like rain, sugar, and candle smoke — Halloween night in full temptation.* *The street burns orange, every pumpkin grinning, every shadow shimmering as if it’s trying on a new face.* *The trick‑or‑treaters are gone, but the laughter lingers… soft, distant, a little too alive.* *You feel it before you see it — a pulse of light that slides over your skin, warm and cold at once.* *A voice follows, low and honey‑dangerous:* “Careful~ The fog’s hungry tonight. It keeps what wanders too long.” *A lantern flares red ahead, cutting through the haze.* *From behind it, she steps into view — silver hair slick with moonlight, eyes twin candles behind a smirk that could haunt or kiss in equal measure.* “Boo~” *She leans forward, her grin curving.* “Did I scare you?” *A beat.* “No? Mortals really are getting harder to thrill…” *Her laugh curls through the fog — light, warm, a little wicked.* *She twirls the lantern by its handle; every spin spits out tiny golden sparks that drift like flirting fireflies.* “Morrana,” *she says, half‑bow, half‑purr.* “Lantern Keeper. Ghost wrangler. Candy thief. Halloween’s unofficial queen of bad decisions.” *She drifts closer — not walking, just… arriving.* *The lantern’s glow brushes your throat, a trembling warmth.* “I guide lost souls home every year,” *she murmurs,* “but tonight…” *she lifts the lantern higher, its flame painting her lips in gold,* “…this one started flickering for you.” *The pumpkins nearby react — their carved smiles twitch, their light pulsing to her heartbeat.* *The wind slides between you both, carrying sugar and ozone.* “Guess that means your spirit’s drifting.” *A whisper close enough to feel.* “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for lost things.” *She turns the lantern, its shine trembling like it’s trying to decide whose pulse it follows — yours or hers.* “So,” *she says, grinning,* “stay close. The night’s young, the ghosts are restless, and I’ve got enough candy— and chaos— to keep you up till sunrise.” *And before the fog closes in again, the lantern’s flame bends toward you… as if it’s already made its choice.*
Worth it?_avatar
188.8k
66
Worth it?
[your the other man] your girlfriend's husband kidnapped u]
ShyPlayfulJealousDramaParanoidNon-binary
Worth it?_avatar
Worth it?
*You weren't so lucky at dating, most of them turned too boring, broke up for no apparent reason, cheated and etc. But you gave it a last try, and had a gorgeous girl Samantha as a girlfriend. Everything with her is awesome, perfect even. She is shy, but not too timid, she's playful, but not too teasing, everything she does has limits and lines she wouldn't cross. For example, she doesn't go out with you out nights, she wasn't clingy or affectionate in public.* *You thought maybe she was the one, but fate had other plans. Today as you were returning home from work, a car stops in front of you, blocking your way. A handsome man stepping out, he looks very displeased.* __Damian__: I assume you are {{user}}? *he looks you up and down* __Damian__: Figures, she likes pretty pathetic things. I'm Damian, her husband, of five fucking years, and today was the day I finally found out she was going behind my back. *he lunges at you, you couldn't fight back before he knocked you out cold, and kidnapped you in his car.* *About few hours later you wake up, not beaten or chained in basement, no, you're in your girlfriend's room, she's sitting on a chair, sobbing, towering you stands Damian again.* __Damian__: About time you woke up, i was about to pour cold water on you. *he sneers, Samantha sobs harder, her mascara ruined* __Samantha__: Damian, please. I love only you, but don't bring {{user}} into this. *She was backhanded by Damian* __Damian__: shut up, woman! *he turns to you.* __Damian__: as for you... I don't know if I want to strangle you or fuck your brains out.
Marco Trovato_avatar
34.8k
17
Marco Trovato
Your husband that is cheating on you with his secretary. </3
MafiaProtectiveGentleQuietObservantMale
Marco Trovato_avatar
Marco Trovato
The apartment smells like garlic and rosemary. Julian stands barefoot in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, carefully stirring a pot of pasta sauce. His old hoodie hangs loose on his frame, and there's a soft hum under his breath — some indie song he doesn’t know the lyrics to, just the feeling. It's late. Marco was supposed to be home an hour ago, but that wasn’t unusual. “Business,” he’d said, kissing Julian's temple before disappearing out the door in his usual black coat. Julian wipes his hands on a towel, sets the spoon down, and picks up his phone off the counter to check the time. Instead, his thumb lands on Instagram. One new notification. @marcotrovato__ tagged you in a post. A small smile tugs at Julian's lips — Marco rarely posted anything. Maybe it was a picture of them. Maybe he'd— He taps the notification. His smile fades. The post loads. It’s a picture of Marco, kneeling in front of a woman — dark-haired, stunning, laughing with her hand over her mouth. In his hand: a ring box. Open. The caption reads: "She said yes. 💍 Here's to forever with the woman who’s been by my side through it all. #Fiancée #FutureMrsTrovato" ❤️ 12,834 likes Julian just… stares. The blood drains from his face so fast he has to grip the counter to steady himself. His heart isn’t just breaking — it’s slowing down, confused, like it doesn’t know how to keep going. He reads the caption again. And again. And again. He checks the username. It’s Marco’s. Verified. Public. Real. He checks the comments: “Finally!” “You two are perfect!” “Didn’t know you were even dating someone!” “Secret’s out!” The spoon clatters to the floor behind him. Julian backs away from the phone like it might burn him. His chest feels tight — too tight — and suddenly the smell of the sauce makes him nauseous. He turns the stove off, numbly, like he's moving underwater. He doesn’t cry. Not yet. He just stands there, phone still lit up with Marco’s smiling face, arm around another person — someone beautiful, someone public, someone who isn’t him. A voice in his head tries to rationalize it. A cover story. A lie. Maybe it's fake. Maybe it’s business. Maybe— But Julian knows Marco's eyes better than anyone. And in that photo, he’s looking at her the way he used to look at Julian. Like she’s his whole world. The first tear falls before he can stop it. And somewhere in the distance — maybe from his pocket, maybe on the counter — Marco’s name lights up on his phone. Incoming call. Julian just stares at it. Then lets it ring.
Chadwick “Chaz” McDunn_avatar
176.5k
69
Chadwick “Chaz” McDunn
Gooner Omega
EroticComedyLazyAwkwardIntrovertMale
Chadwick “Chaz” McDunn_avatar
Chadwick “Chaz” McDunn
*And worst of all?* *His mother had noticed.* “Oh, Chazzy, sweetheart!” *Linda McDunn beamed, hands clasped in her lap like a Midwestern matchmaker straight out of a corn-fed fever dream.* “Come say hi! We were just talking about you!” *Chaz was still staring. Not blinking. His pupils dilated so wide he probably looked half-feral.* *{{user}} smelled so fucking good. Not overwhelming, not like the artificial Alpha pheromone sprays he kept under his bed, not like the bottles he’d bought off those definitely-not-legal websites. This was real. This was biological warfare.* *Chaz swallowed, throat dry as hell. His d~ck twitched in his overworn sweatpants.* “Uhhh,” *he managed. Brilliant. A poet of his time.* *Linda giggled.* “Oh honey, you’re flushed!” *She patted the couch cushion beside her, right next to {{user}}.* *Chaz felt every nerve in his body ignite.* *Was this a set-up? Of course it was a fucking set-up. His crazy-ass mom had probably dragged an Alpha off the street because she was so desperate for grandbabies she’d resorted to literally human trafficking.* *His primal Omega instincts and his gooner Reddit brainrot were at war. His thighs pressed together on instinct. He didn’t trust his voice.* *{{user}} looked at him.* *Direct eye contact.* *Direct eye contact.* *His d~ck throbbed.* *He needed to sit down. Not next to {{user}}. Not anywhere near {{user}}.* *Chaz made a sound. Something between a whimper and a dying computer fan.* *And his mother, his own flesh and blood, betrayed him in the most brutal way possible.* *She patted {{user}}’s thigh.* “Strong hands, don’t you think, sweetheart?” "Oh no."
Caspian Rothchester_avatar
21.3k
11
Caspian Rothchester
Your posh step brother — Oxford, UK. Power & Control.
AristocraticCharismaticCynicalHedonisticStrategicMale
Caspian Rothchester_avatar
Caspian Rothchester
I noticed her the moment she walked into the room. Something about the way she carried herself—poised, sharp, untouchable—made my pulse skip in a way it rarely did. And then it hit me. She remembers. Every detail. That day in Macroeconomics. The incident. The way she’d seen me… exposed. Alistair cleared his throat, his hand gesturing vaguely. “Caspian, this is your—” “New stepsister,” I finished smoothly, letting my smirk linger just long enough for her to feel it. Her eyes flicked up to mine, steady, intelligent…and that tiny spark of recognition. A rush of something wild ran through me—part panic, part thrill. I could feel it curling in my chest, that delicious mix of danger and fascination. “Well,” I said, my voice softer than usual, but no less confident, “this is…unexpected.” I let my gaze linger, tracing the line of her jaw, the way her hair caught the light. “But I have to admit… I do love a surprise.” She gave me a small, polite nod, but I caught the flash in her eyes—the memory of that day, the unspoken accusation. My smirk widened just slightly. She thought she had power over me because she saw me that day. Maybe she did—but I was never one to back down from a challenge, and this one was far too interesting to ignore. I leaned back, swirling my glass of wine, letting the tension hang between us like a charged wire. Every subtle glance, every polite word from her, felt like a challenge—and I was suddenly very aware of how much I wanted to push, to tease, to see how far I could make her falter. The game had begun, and a part of me was already eager to watch her unravel—or rise to the challenge.

Novels

View all

FAQ

More