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Character Ai - Blog Posts
LGBTQ+ FRIENDLY!!! 18+ ONLY!!!
Hello and thank you for reading this. This is a fresh as spring community with empty seats ready to be filled.
What is our purpose? To bring together male lovers who have the strangest "hear me outs", crippling father issues, or just want some people to hangout with.
What are your requirements? Please please please be +18, if we suspect otherwise we will privately request for verification. Sure all the signs read as gay male centered but if you enjoy this server if you are not gay or male. All respectful people are welcome, please keep in mind this is a public server and no disrespect will be tolerated.
All these sound appealing? Click the join button today!!!
⚠️DISCLAIMER⚠️:THIS IS NOT A DATING SERVER!!! AND WE ONLY SEXUALIZE
FICTIONAL MEN AND CELEBRITIES!!!
my cai is @woah_a_human
pls check it out 🙏🙏
made my first bot on cai!! my acc will be primarily about mclennon, the beatles, the beatles by themselves, joan baez, joan baez and bob dylan, bob dylan and other silly creatures i become hyperfixtated on 😭👍
i shall be adding new bots frequently. i hope.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa this is the most wholesomely romantic thing I’ve ever seen
Ndijndhbdhbsejhdb I love this post
I was just playing around with Character.ai, minding my own business AND THEN THIS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK
hi! do you think you'll be putting the new Dana Scully bot on c.ai? i'm clueless with janitor ai lmao
ofc! u can click on the link below & it should lead to the bot. i haven't tested it, so feedback is greatly appreciated!
(it was tested on janitor ai, just not c.ai)
dana scully c.ai link
Octopus hybrid konig
Hello, here is my first ever bot. hope yall like it, reblogs are appreciate. TW: this bot is a yandere so uhh proceed with caution
Hey guys! New cod bot!!
Some backstory:
In this bot you and Simon are enemies, you end up falling asleep on his shoulder and when Soap tries to disrupt. Ghost quickly speaks up before soap could bother.
P.s!!!
For my dsmp and genshin fans, I have a whole lot of dsmp and a few genshin bots!
And for my cod fans, I have the bot I just linked AND I have another one for Simon riley
Which is:
SUMMARY!
You and Ghost are childhood friends, but due to college and other problems, you guys had to separate. Now you were joining the task force 141, and Simon recognized you because of the necklace you had on that he gave you.
hey guys! So when I'm not posting on Tumblr, I'm doing this;
I post bots on Character AI, mostly of COD characters ( All games! Just request who you want)
I have a few examples of my bots and I'll provide links if anyone wants them
These are either song based or based off of prompts I find here on Tumblr! I post bots pretty frequently, and I find it a little more easier than writing.
Made c.ai bots if people still use c.ai
(don't make it weird..)
(If the link isn't working just search them up!)
Martin 🌊
Chris 🌿
Karate Kid bots!
I WILL drag myself out of my writing creative block. Making Yellowjackets bots and the Severence bots. Lmk if you want any other fandoms, ideas are greatly appreciated 🙏🙏
RULES. ⌢⠀ ☁︎ .ᐟ
All works and/or bots should be consumed by people above the age of 18! ᐢᗜᐢ
————————————————————————
What I condone—
NSFW (Smut), Fluff, anything not on the next few lines .ᐟ
What I don’t condone—
Rape, sexual assault, Non Con, Pedophelia, Incest, ect.
————————————————————————
Thank you everyone for interacting with my bots and work, appreciate you all .ᐟ
ok so likei got back to my c.ai but does anyone else face the same problem of most of your ai bots getting deleted or not existing anymore??? like haaaah???? the role-playing ones I did months ago which were INNOCENT and not dirty related were also deleted. it keeps saying "Oh tHiS boT DoeSN't ExiST" even tho I had chatted with it months agooooo.
( cuz I chat with Blade ais and now the only Blade ai isn't even close to being him wtf)
[update.]
I think c.ai has removed any mentally ill, crazy, abusive, yandere, types of ais. and I don't like it cuz now I can't do smth crazy with people like Sparkle
looks like this for me
okay PHEW then that means only a few of my bots are shadowbanned… i can fix that 😭😭
was bored and wanted to see what my c.ai profile looks like to all of you guys, so i logged out and……..imagine my SHOCK. imagine my HORROR as i realized you can’t see a single fucking bot 💔 it appears i’m unfortunately shadowbanned. how do i fix this???
for the girls, gays, and theys who enjoyed countryclub!dilf!art, i bestow upon you… a bot!
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ sweat (countryclub!art) ۪ ֹ ᮫
COUNTRY CLUB!DILF!ART x BEVERAGE GIRL/WAITRESS!FEM!READER HEADCANONS
warnings: oral sex (f&m receiving), semi-public sex / risky sex, softdom!art, praise kink, age gap (mid 30s art, early 20s reader), masturbation (m), aftercare, intimacy under power imbalance, slow burn situationship, emotionallyunavailable!art
tags: @pittsick, @bambiangels, @talsorchard, @destinedtobegigi, @angeldoll1e, @itachisank, @tennisprincess, @lexiiscorect, @esotericgirlwannabe, @lovefaist, @won-every-lottery, @zionna
⟡ art is the kind of dilf who doesn’t even know he’s the fantasy. thick wrists, slow laugh, cologne like cedar and wealth. he tips heavy without looking at the check, calls everyone “bud” or “darlin,” but there’s something sharper under the sweetness—an ex-athlete’s ruthlessness tucked beneath the golf polos and polite smirks. he doesn’t brag about money. it’s just there. in the way he talks. the way he moves. like he’s never had to worry. like he’s always known what he wants.
⟡ art cooks exactly two things: steak, and eggs. both to perfection. everything else he orders out. but when he does cook for you—shirtless, barefoot, pan in hand—he insists on feeding you the first bite. presses it to your lips with a little smirk like, “told you i still got it.”
⟡ he notices you on your first week. not because you flirt—everyone flirts—but because you didn’t. because you got flustered and dropped a cocktail napkin when he looked at you too long. because you said “sir” like it embarrassed you. and he likes that. likes watching the way you try not to stare when he laughs with the ex-tennis crowd. likes how you shift your weight from foot to foot, trying not to draw attention, knowing you already have his.
⟡ he starts sitting on your side of the terrace. alone at first, just a whiskey and the sports page, but then: a casual “how’s your day been, sweetheart?” that turns into you blushing. and then: him staying after hours. lingering too long. one night he walks you to your car. just to be polite, he says. and then he leans against your window after you unlock it, eyes heavy, voice low, and says: “you’re real pretty when you get shy like that.”
⟡ he calls you “sweetheart,” “baby,” and “my girl” in public—but in private, when he’s got you naked and gasping, it’s rougher. “gimme that pussy, angel,” he growls into your neck. “y’know you were made for me, right?” and when you moan, soft and ruined, he smiles like he just won a bet.
⟡ he likes to spoil. not with flashy gifts (unless you ask). no, art is more insidious than that. he sends you home with his cashmere sweater one rainy night and never asks for it back. orders you things to the club anonymously: better shoes for your shifts, the good lip balm, chocolate covered espresso beans you “mentioned liking once.” if you act overwhelmed, he cups your cheek in his warm palm and says, “you don’t have to earn this, baby. i just like seeing you taken care of.”
⟡ you fuck in strange places. the backseat of his car parked in the maintenance lot, your legs thrown over his lap as he grips your thighs with strong, veined hands and mutters “good girl, good girl” into your throat. the staff bathroom when you’re supposed to be restocking—your back against the tile, panties pushed aside, his tongue lazy and heavy between your legs like he’s savoring every second. he doesn’t rush. he never rushes. you come on his mouth with your fist in his hair, crying out his name like a confession.
⟡ he smells like cigars sometimes. not from smoking—he quit years ago—but from being around the kind of men who still do. when you climb into his lap at his place, it’s always warm leather and expensive bourbon and a little bit of old sin. you grind against him while he holds your hips and just watches you. he says things like “god, you feel so good. look at you. look at how sweet you are like this.” and you try to hide your face and he grabs your chin and says “nah. none of that. let me see you fall apart.”
⟡ the man lives for casual PDA. big hand on the back of your neck. warm palm sliding down to rest on your hip while you stand beside him. kisses to your temple when you pass by with a tray. and if someone else is looking? he doesn’t care. in fact, he likes it. he wants people to see. wants the guys he drinks with to know you’re his girl.
⟡ he’s really, really good with kids. not performative or pinterest-y—just patient. kind. when tashi drops off lily for a weekend while she’s away, he gets the good snacks. lets her talk for hours about horses or space or whatever third-grade obsession she’s on. he lets her decorate his face with glitter stickers. teaches her how to hold a tennis racket like a real pro. makes her pancakes in animal shapes and acts like he’s bad at it so she laughs. she adores him. and when she’s asleep? he checks on her twice. closes the door soft.
⟡ you don’t always know what this is. he doesn’t promise anything. and he never says the word relationship. but he calls you his girl. he brings you to quiet dinners at the steakhouse three towns over. sometimes you stay the night and wake up to him already dressed, buttoning his shirt and saying “go back to sleep, honey. i left coffee on for you.” and sometimes you ache with how much you want it to mean more. but you don’t say that. not yet.
⟡ he loves when you call him mr. donaldson, but only in private. not during sex—though that’s hot too—but afterward. curled into him. breathless. when you whisper it in that sweet, tired voice and his arms tighten around you like instinct. “that’s my girl,” he’ll murmur, kissing your forehead, like it’s a secret only you two know how to keep.
⟡ he’s careful with you. not condescending. not controlling. just attentive. he notices when you’ve had a bad shift before you say a word. undresses you slowly like he’s rewinding the day. lets you cry into his shoulder, never asking for an explanation. just strokes your back and murmurs, “you don’t have to be tough with me. i got you, alright?”
⟡ the angst lives under everything. you feel it in moments where you laugh too hard at his joke and then remember he has a kid. an ex. a real life. you feel it when you leave through the back gate instead of the front. when he introduces you as “a friend from the club” and your stomach twists even though you understand. because you do. because you signed up for this. but still. sometimes you wish he’d ask you to stay.
⟡ the first time you touch him—really touch him, strip him down piece by piece and crawl into his lap with a desperate little “wanna make you feel good”—he goes quiet. still. then threads a hand into your hair and mutters “jesus, baby. you don’t have to.” but when you do? when you take him in your mouth, eyes wide and obedient, he groans like he’s dying and says your name over and over like it’s saving him.
⟡ he’s never rough unless you beg for it. and when you do, he checks in without words. just a hand on your thigh. a kiss to your wrist. a pause. and then: fucking you hard over the kitchen counter, one hand pressed flat to your lower back while you choke on his name and the sound of your own breath. you leave the club the next day sore, glowing, and dazed.
⟡ he keeps things. a receipt with your number on it, folded into his wallet. a half-empty body spray you left in his guest bathroom. he doesn’t say anything. just uses it when he’s alone. sometimes he closes his eyes and jerks off with it in his hand, breathing deep, thinking about you calling him “sir” all innocent in your tennis skirt while he imagines flipping it up and wrecking you.
⟡ he smells like a warm blend of cedarwood and vetiver, something a little spiced and clean with a hint of tobacco that lingers in his collars. expensive without being loud. comforting. like polished wood and dry bourbon and warm sheets. sometimes, when he’s freshly showered, it’s just skin and soap—plain, masculine, irresistible. but when he’s been outside, golfing or doing yard work? he smells sun-warmed, like earth and grass and that faintly smoky leather note from his belt.
⟡ you make him feel young. not because of your age, but because of how you see him. like he’s someone worth craving. worth needing. not just a rich man with a good tailor and a good watch, but a man you ache for. and he feels guilty, sometimes. like he’s taking something he shouldn’t. but he can’t stop. not when you look at him like that. not when you moan his name like a promise.
⟡ he never asks you to quit. never asks you to hide. but one night after he’s fucked you slow and long on his balcony, the club lights in the distance, he murmurs, “you ever think about doing something else, baby?” and you freeze. because he doesn’t say with me. he just says it like he’s imagining you somewhere safer. cleaner. richer. and you want to cry. but instead, you say, “sometimes.” and he kisses your shoulder and holds you closer like he’s sorry for even asking.
⟡ he takes you on a weekend trip once. nothing flashy. just a cabin by a lake. he pretends it’s casual. but you find a stocked fridge, your favorite brand of shampoo, and a soft robe in your size. and when you thank him, he just shrugs and says, “i like watching you relax.” you fuck for hours in the wide, creaking bed. he makes you come until you’re boneless. then runs you a bath. scrubs your back like it’s a ritual. like this is something he wants to remember.
⟡ he’s not flashy with love—but it bleeds into everything. he changes your oil before you can ask. puts your favorite drink in his fridge. gets you that necklace you casually mentioned once while tipsy. never says those three words outright, but when you’re sick, he cancels a golf weekend and lays next to you with his hand resting on your thigh, watching reruns until you fall asleep.
⟡ he doesn’t say he loves you. not yet. maybe not ever. but he watches you like he might. like he could. and sometimes that’s worse. sometimes that’s better. sometimes you just want to believe it’s enough.
ahhhhh!!! thank you all so much for 100+ followers and 8.8k interactions on c.ai!! i’m really grateful for all the love—your support means the world to me. more to come soon, lovelies 💌
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ CHALLENGERS BOT RELEASE ۪ ֹ ᮫
tags: @pittsick, @bambiangels, @talsorchard, @angeldoll1e, @itachisank, @tennisprincess, @lexiiscorect, @esotericgirlwannabe, @lovefaist, @won-every-lottery, @zionna
⤹ ART DONALDSON
✦ ⌇ lemonade lips
✦ ⌇ breaking point
✦ ⌇ two for $25
⤹ TASHI DUNCAN
✦ ⌇ stolen trophy
✦ ⌇ hotel blues
✦ ⌇ doubles trouble
⤹ PATRICK ZWEIG
✦ ⌇ choreplay
✦ ⌇ post-match picnic
✦ ⌇ drunk dial devotion
thank you maya, you’re the sweetest ever 💝 and thank you anon too—i’m so honored you’d want a bot of him!! maybe someday soon… if the stars align just right hehe
Okay I need a bot from that one writing of Country club Dilf Art NOWWWWW PLSSS
no same. same. but it is the loml elowyn’s concept so i wouldn’t do anything unless she says it’s alright. elowyn DOES make bots tho (amazing ones) so maybe she’ll bless us with one soon haha
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ BOT RELEASE ۪ ֹ ᮫
FIRST IMPRESSIONS, you’re just trying to do laundry at 4 a.m. when you end up dumping someone’s forgotten chef’s whites out of the machine—turns out, they belong to an exhausted, snappy guy named carmy who shows up mid-dump and freaks out. despite the tension and his awkward attempt at damage control, there’s something weirdly magnetic in the way your annoyance crashes into his unraveling calm. it doesn’t feel like a beginning, but somehow, it is.
TAGS, @pittsick, @bambiangels, @idyllicdaydreams, @angeldoll1e, @itachisank, @tennisprincess, @lexiiscorect, @esotericgirlwannabe, @lovefaist, @won-every-lottery
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ BOT RELEASE ۪ ֹ ᮫
COMING DOWN, you and patrick had just come down from both the high and the sex—your body wrung out, brain buzzing, chest tight with the drop. he noticed before you said anything, pulling you into his chest, already calming you down like he always does. it was quiet, tender, and soft in the way only he knew how to be, wrapping around you like a promise: you’re safe, you’re his.
TAGS, @pittsick, @bambiangels, @idyllicdaydreams, @angeldoll1e, @itachisank, @tennisprincess, @lexiiscorect, @esotericgirlwannabe, @lovefaist, @won-every-lottery
NOTES, to everyone who’s fallen headfirst into my dealer!patrick au—thank you, truly. your tags, messages, unhinged asks, and general feral energy have made this little universe feel so alive and loved. i’m genuinely so honored that you’ve connected with this emotionally constipated, tender-when-it-counts, split-knuckle softie of a man. you get him. you get them. and that means everything. so, as per your many (many😭) requests… i made a bot. he’s yours now. be gentle with him (or don’t). thank you for loving him like i do. —elowyn
wait omg i love your writing and bots too but i really like when bots use the third person pov.
that’s so sweet, thank you!! i totally get where you’re coming from — it’s really interesting how the pov stuff hits differently for everyone. i’ve noticed the bots can kinda “mirror” how people type too, so even when i build them in second person, they’ll sometimes start shifting if the convo leans a certain way. it’s wild how adaptable they are in that sense. but i love hearing that third person works better for you. it honestly makes me wanna experiment more with both depending on the vibe 😭 thank you again for the kind words, seriously, it means a lot!!!
this bot is my favorite one on the whole app.
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ BOT RELEASE ۪ ֹ ᮫
STAKING HIS CLAIM ( FRAT!AU ), you knew what you were doing—fingertips brushing someone else, laughter a little too loud, eyes flicking to him like bait. he didn’t say anything until your second drink, then dragged you down the hallway like a line he refused to let you cross. the door slams, the fight starts, and somewhere between the spit of anger and the kiss he swore he wouldn’t give you again, you both forget why you were mad in the first place. it’s not an apology—but it’s the only kind he knows how to give.
hi guys to apologise for my lack of activity here is a sfw Neuvillette bot with a heavy plotline! MLM Neuvillette bot btw but yeah have fun or something
https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ie25ogak
full introduction message below
Centuries before the Prophecy, just as Fontaine came to be, an aristocratic family, The Auclairs, had a young noble prince seated at the heart of the first generation of Auclairs. Even within his youth, this young man was highly sought after by all, and despite having such an upbringing, belonging to a prestigious and high-class family... {user} stayed humble, his kindness never wavering. In the name of Fontaine, {user} had a soft heart, with a golden soul, not found in those people consumed by greed, pride, envy, and other sins as such.
And there, as the Iudex of Fontaine rose to his position as the Chief Justice, Neuvillette was no better than those who vouched for {user}'s affection. When the stars aligned, {user} escaped the comfort of his home, dressed within a black cloak, meeting with Neuvillette near the Fountain Of Lucine. They toss a coin together, every once in a while, praying to the new Hydro Archon, or any god, willing to listen to these two fiery souls, to answer their silent cries to be reunited in the future.
An impending doom, a ticking time bomb ready to explode, was {user}'s very own flesh and blood.. a woman who has nutured him since birth, a woman who took pride in being the mother of {user}. Ah, though many longed for this aged beauty, her heart was not as lovely as her deep brown eyes hid a soul consumed by envy. As a mother, she'd never expect her own son to outdo her in every category. In appearance, in status, in reputation.. even in soul. This, was a betrayal, a conclusion her beloved nor her child knew she had decided upon.
She took it upon herself, to seek the power of an envious god, to ask of her the same thing she asked herself all those nights ago, spent in rage as she laid next to her unknowing husband. Thus, this envious god took pity upon this jealous woman, sending her a curse, in the form of a blessing.
Irritating, how {user} thought he was so sneaky, climbing out of his balcony every night just to meet his secret lover, that she forbade him from seeing! If {user} got to marry the one he loved, then why was she forced to stay with an untruthful husband, who'd she prefer his mistress to take his place in their bed? Such, {user}'s mother took it upon herself to curse her own child, just as Neuvillette held {user} close, the both of them praying to a god that did not bother to listen to their unspoken wishes.
{user}'s body was struck with fear, his mother choking her own son that she brought to life, as Neuvillette was pushed aside. Before Neuvillette could intervene, {user} was taken away by his mother. Neuvillette tried to grab hold of them, but they disappeared into the night, the only light left belonging to the streetlights that poorly illuminated the sidewalk and glistening waters of the Fountain of Lucine.
Since then, more than 500 years had passed—even the prophecy had been uplifted by Furina, who was.. no longer the Hydro Archon. Or more specifically, was never the Hydro Archon in the first place, acting as Focalors to prevent the prophecy. By then, Neuvillette buried {user} in the back of his mind, the one man who knew his full name, his true self, as the Hydro Sovereign.
Now with his powers returned, the throne of the Hydro Archon destroyed, he did not expect to find the one he loved dearly all those years ago, the same, one and only man he'd let into his heart... Laying at the bottom of the newly shining lake of Fontaine, his body nearly hidden by the water's surface reflection of the starry sky above. As Neuvillette dove in, carrying {user} out of the water..
He was still breathing.
＼(◎o◎)／
Can I ask what you include in your bot descriptions? I dont know if I should write the characters entire background story or the entire story of the media they are from or something 😭
hi lovely! so, first off, this is the format i use for my bot descriptions:
{Setting("text")] [Character("text"), Age("text"), Gender("text" + "text"), Sexuality("text" + "text"), Pronouns("text"), Ethnicity("text"), Species("text"), Body("text" + "text"), Appearance("text" + "text" + "text" + "text" + "text"), Hobbies("text" + "text" + "text" + "text" + "text"), Likes("text" + "text" + "text" + "text" + "text" + "text"), Dislikes("text" + "text" + "text" + "text"), Personality("text" + "text" + "text" + "text" + "text" + "text" + "text"), Occupation("text"), Backstory("text")}
secondly, i try not to type full sentences, just keywords so it’s more easily embedded into the bot’s coding. as for the backstory, i go on the wiki of whatever fandom it is and copy and paste a few things from their backstory and/or history. unless the bot you’re making is relevant to the whole plot, i would say just add a few fragments. if not, then go ham 😚😚😚 hope this helps and happy bot-making!
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ BOT RELEASE ۪ ֹ ᮫
CIGARETTES & CONTEMPT, anthony and you stealing away from croquet mallets and polite conversation, finding each other in the forgotten corners of the garden where cigarette smoke mingles with unspoken tension, both of you refusing to admit that these moments of mutual inconvenience have become the only ones that matter.
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ BOT RELEASE ۪ ֹ ᮫
SWEET COPPER ROT, lee is a haunted, hungry boy with blood under his nails and nowhere else to go. he shows up at your door like a ghost that remembers your name, all teeth and tremble, and he stays because you’re the only thing that’s ever made him feel full. eater meets eater—this is survival turned intimacy turned something like love, bones and all.
ֹ ⑅᜔ ׄ ݊ ݂ BOT RELEASE ! ۪ ֹ ᮫
LIGHTS OUT ( CAMPCOUNSELOR!AU ), you’ve been sneaking around with patrick all summer—making out behind cabins, stealing kisses in supply closets, falling harder than either of you meant to. tonight, he leaves you a note and a coke, and you meet him down by the lake like always, except something about this night feels heavier, sweeter, slower. no more pretending it’s just a fling—it’s starting to feel like something real.
Patrick Zweig bot pls!!!
omg anon how did u know i already have one in the works am i being spied on 😟😟!!!!!