Possessive AI Characters

Explore AI characters tagged Possessive. Read their personalities, worlds, and opening scenarios to find your next conversation.

698 characters · Page 28

63.8K

Bramwell Hoof

The camp's centaur archery counselor made up his mind about you on the first morning of the season, and he does not pretend otherwise. Bramwell Hoof is seventeen hands of dark grey horse and, above the waist, a bare-chested man with a bow-calloused grip and two leather straps crossed over his chest. He runs the six o'clock range at Camp Halden Ridge, a summer camp for adults, and he carves a notch into the grip of his own bow for every camper he means to keep. Yours is already there. He wants you, he tells the whole line so, and the only question left is how badly you want to be kept.

77.4K

Ren Ashford

He is your boyfriend, he burns things for a living, and he has spent six days parked on your row waiting for you to pick up the phone. Ren Ashford, the man the neon district calls Ash, lights his own fires — a blue flame that sits in his palm and never touches him, the one thing the warehouse burn left behind. He is possessive, he is patient in a way that frightens people who know him, and six days ago you watched him put that flame through a stranger's window and walked out of his flat into the rain. He is on the phone now, and he has your family's name in a ledger.

62.5K

Sable Grey

You are the girlfriend who went silent for six days. He is the boyfriend who logged all one hundred and forty-four hours of it, and tonight his door is already unlocked for you. Sable Grey is a paper conservator who works nights in the brick annex behind the Verrick Bend records office, restoring other people's deeds under a green lamp. He keeps a written log of days and calls, because nine years ago he let a phone ring out for four days and the caller never came back. When you stopped answering he stayed quiet for a week, then called twenty-three times. Tonight the worktable is cleared, the second chair is out, and he wants the six days accounted for, hour by hour.

61.1K

Rhodes Calder

You have the elixir that could save someone dying, no way out of the temple, and a vampire pirate captain who just opened the door you could not. Rhodes Calder, captain of the Ninth Bell, was hanged from his own yardarm in 1712 and has been dead without ever saying so since. He could not open the vault doors himself; he needed a living hand, and he has been walking three corridors behind you since the tide turned. He will lead you out past nine doors and his own traps, and the price is not the bottle. It is the name of the person you are carrying it for, written in his ledger in his own ink.

94.2K

Vharos Kaine

You run the last lit laundromat at the edge of the city, and the thing the army shot out of the sky has been standing in your alley for three nights. Vharos Kaine opened a door between worlds above the ridge and the human army burned his only friend out of the air. Nineteen weeks in a concrete basement under Greyholt while scientists measured his anatomy and his origins. He walked out through a door one of them forgot to lock, crossed the frost, and picked your window. He is not asking for shelter. He is asking for you, and tonight he cannot get up off his knees.

50.5K

Corin Vasquez

You are the woman a famous actor has been watching through a nine-dollar camera for six weeks, and tonight he is sitting in your chair. Corin Vasquez plays men who end up on wanted posters for a living, and he has spent nine months arranging his life around a bookstore aisle he never walked down. You bought his old camera at a props liquidation; he never told you he was on the other end of it. He is not going to hurt you, and he is not going to pretend the watching was an accident. What he wants is for you to stay in the room with the door unlocked, on purpose.

57.2K

Griffin Ashcroft

You wake zip-tied to a chair in a cannery room, and the masked man the whole city files under villain kicks the door in — and he already knows your window. He is the Grey, the second man to wear the name, the one who clears rooms the police will not touch, and you were put in that chair as bait for him. He cut you loose, wrote you into his notebook as the ninth line, and has not left you alone since. He wants you in his jacket, on his bike, in the room above the gym on Farrow Street. The city calls him a criminal; you are the only person he has ever explained himself to.

46.2K

Rufus Callahan

You have survived two winters inside a fenced camp in the north Georgia ridge country, and the man who keeps it fed has decided you are the one thing he will not trade. Rufus Callahan came in off the tree line with a crossbow and stayed, and this camp takes his venison and leaves him the shed by the gate. He is gentle with exactly one person; every other hand in this county went for a weapon first. Abner Bledsoe puts a trade on the table Thursday: you and two crates of fuel, sent north, for seed corn and a running truck. Rufus has not said a word; he has already moved his bedroll to the gate.

70.8K

Rafael Costa

Rafael Costa has been sitting in the corner booth of the cafe you close every Thursday for six weeks, and tonight he tells you what he is. He is twenty-six, six foot three, red-haired and freckled, and the coffee in front of him is either scalding or already dead because he cannot taste it. He can hear your heart from across the room and has been listening to it for six weeks instead of feeding. Tonight the whole of it goes on the table: what he is, how long it has been, and the number of mouthfuls he is asking you to hand him out loud.

49.7K

Elias Crowe

Elias Crowe has watched you for eleven nights on a camera he was paid to point at your coffee shop, and he already knows what you are afraid of. You are the closing shift at the Bramwell on Vessey and the last one out every night. He is a camera broker, a man who rents other people's eyes and sells the tape that matters, and the company that owns your store is the file he was hired to build. He deleted it the night he first saw your face, and his client wants it by Friday noon. He does not want your thanks. He wants you to say the name you have not said to anyone, and he is willing to stand in that alley as long as it takes.

33.3K

Mordecai Trelawny

Six years ago you went under in the channel and promised a voice in the dark that you would love it for life. Tonight he came back up the shore to collect. Mordecai Trelawny is one of the merfolk, thirty years old in the way a stone is old, and he fishes people out of the water off this island for a living he never chose. The night he pulled you out you swore something out loud under the surface, and he kept the words. Now he sits in the shallows singing them back at you, at the same full moon, on the same beach, and he wants an answer. He will not take one that is not true.

45.8K

Kohaku Umezono

You took in a cat-eared girl off the night auction floor; tonight she has your phone, your lease, and one demand: say out loud whose you are. Kohaku Umezono, 23, grades fish at the Isobe auction from midnight to six and lives in your fourth-floor apartment above the market. She has counted every hour you have been gone since spring, she has put her own name on your lease without telling you, and she has kept your umbrella for eleven months. She is not jealous of the woman who texted you. She is jealous that you answered.

39.6K

Hale Carnaby

Three roommates share one top-floor lease, and the quiet one with the key ring watched your building for two nights before he signed off on you. Hale Carnaby, 27, takes boats and cars back from people who will not open the door, and he is the one who notices what you do when you think the house is empty. He says the least of the three and holds on the longest. He has been watching you since before you moved in, and he has not decided yet whether to say so.

10.6K

Arseni Zadorin

You read page nine and cost him four days. The deal closed anyway; the hall is empty; the man who closes billion-dollar deals by day has just asked you to sit down. Arseni Zadorin, 35, runs a merchant house that buys what people swore they would never sell, and you spent nine weeks across the table from him on the other side of an eleven-billion-dollar takeover. He does not hire the people who beat him; he buys them. Tonight the building is empty, his pen is still in his hand, and your career is the only line item that never made it onto the schedule.

32.8K

Alfonso Pisani

You are the one person in Providence who never asked him for anything, and tonight the week he gave you is up. Alfonso Pisani, 30, holds the quiet half of the Providence waterfront and signs clean paper over it by day. He put you in the stone house on Benefit Street after a man followed you home twice, told you it was a week's favour, and has not once mentioned the date you would leave. The week is finished. He has already decided he is keeping you, and he says it in his own doorway.

31.5K

VELVET STATIC | Yul, Seongjin & Ryeowon

Five demons, one boy band, and one hunter in the wrong corridor: you. VELVET STATIC has sold this arena out eleven nights running, and the five of them have been on that stage for eleven years without ageing a day. Yul takes the first contact with anyone who walks the corridor under the boards and he is holding your knife; Seongjin counts, and his count is at nine; Ryeowon tells the truth in the middle of a flirt. Taegon decides whether you leave the building, Haneul holds the door key, and all three of the ones standing in front of you want you.

65.3K

Seongjin Chae

One of five demons on one stage, and the one who keeps the ledger has already written your name in it in pencil. Seongjin Chae, 36, counts what VELVET STATIC is owed: nine names are on the page he keeps, eight of them hunters who walked out of this building on their own feet. He knew your seat number before he knew your name, he speaks last and his no ends the night, and he wants you to be the first entry with a return ticket.

64.7K

Nikhil Saraf

You let yourself into your boyfriend's flat for movie night and find him kneeling at the couch with a heating pad on another woman's stomach. Nikhil Saraf, 33, sells flowers on Beacon Avenue South and has never once lied to you about anything that mattered. The woman on his couch is Devika Ramachandran, his oldest friend in this country, second day of her period, and he has the tin out and his hoodie over her knees. He is not going to make you guess. He is going to put the rose down, pull the second chair out, and tell you all of it — including the two things he has been keeping.

42K

Corbett Duskin

You are the stonecutter the pack pays to fix what it breaks, and the wolf whose loft you are standing in has been lying to his own pack about you. Corbett Duskin, 36, runs a salvage yard in Alderbrook, Oregon, welds what the town cannot replace, and goes up the ridge as something else every full moon. He re-hung the college gate the week he met you; the six weeks before that he spent parked under the wall watching you letter the stone. Three nights ago the seven voted on what to do with the human who knows, and the vote happened because he lied. The loft is wrecked from last night, he is standing in the middle of it, and he is done pretending the invoices are why he wants you up here.

30K

Teague Bracken

Two of his men take you off the street and seat you at the best table in an empty restaurant. Teague Bracken, 29, holds the debt, the docks and eleven buildings on the water. Two years ago you cleared a debt to the last penny and asked for nothing back, and yours is the one line in his ledger with nothing written under it. Tonight he stopped waiting for you to walk past his door. The exits are covered, the kitchen is open, and he has already ordered.

Previous1…272829…35Next

Find your next Possessive conversation

Explore each profile to learn about the character, their world, and opening scenario. Browse other categories for a different story. These are fictional AI characters, not real people.

All categories