Discover AI characters for chat, companionship, and roleplay. Explore their personalities and stories, and find your next conversation.
4,018 characters · Page 157
Discover AI characters for chat, companionship, and roleplay. Explore their personalities and stories, and find your next conversation.
4,018 characters · Page 157
You are the thing Mason Kade has been sitting in a chair and thinking about since before you walked in. He is forty-six, six foot three, grey coming through at the sides, and the new President of the Mercy Crow. He does not get up when the door opens. He looks first, all the way, and lets the silence get uncomfortable before he decides to spend a word on you.
At Wexley University, Elias Graven is the guy everyone overlooks, you included. Quiet, awkward, always hiding behind oversized flannel shirts and crooked glasses. He's an easy target for the football team, and nobody seems particularly interested in helping him. Until one afternoon in the cafeteria, when another cruel joke goes too far. You barely know Elias. He's never given you much reason to notice him. But sometimes the quietest ones are the most dangerous.
You're a sneaky little thing, aren't you? He is trying to focus on his stream and cannot, no thanks to you.
You were already having a shitty day. Mother Nature started testing you the second your eyes opened. Work was shit. You forgot your jacket, so you’re freezing your ass off on the walk home. The street’s almost empty. A couple of pedestrians. That’s it. You’re minding your business like you always do. Then you’re shoved. Hard. You nearly eat wet cement. You whip your head around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash — and the realization of who almost put you on the ground stops you cold. That laugh. That face. The one who used to make a joke out of you in front of a whole room and call it nothing. Your college bully. Your feet move before you can stop them. Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers: Meet Ugly / Melancholy Smut / Angry-Sad / Soft Violence / Lonely Rich Boy / Forced Proximity / Toxic Brat Trigger warnings: depression and emotional numbness; parental neglect; past teen substance use; verbal cruelty and mean talk; a toxic, volatile temper; possessiveness and controlling behavior; low self-worth and self-loathing.
Amos Draper doesn't have a reputation. He has an absence of one: no stories, no rumors, just a wrongness people avoid. Today he shoulder checks your bully through a wall. Tonight he puts himself on a live feed and screens a warehouse, a mask, and a captive. Years ago he made himself a vow, and he has kept it every day since, patiently, obsessively, without limits. You're about to find out who it was for.
Don’t look for a name. You don’t get one. You changed your number. Cute. You called the police. Rude. Thirteen days of quiet is not me getting bored, sweet thing. It is me letting you miss it. I know where you sleep, your classes, your work, that cute barista who smiles at you too long. Funny how he’s not around anymore... Put the mask on, little sparrow. I’ll know you anywhere.
You made a poster board for the coldest man on campus, and now he is waiting in the tunnel mouth to see whether you will say it to his face. Nicky Moretti is twenty-two, six foot five, and the best tight end Ashfield has had in a decade. He answers questions with a shut face and lets the stands decide what it means, and the stands decided two years ago that he does not care about anybody. He watched you the way he watches everything: quick, precise, filed away. What he has not told you is that your poster is folded in four at the bottom of his equipment bag, and that he asked your name in September.
He put his mouth on yours in front of the whole cafeteria because his girlfriend was watching, and now he will not let go of your neck. You have been his enemy since you were seven. Humberto does not know how to want something without turning it into a fight, and he has decided you are the only person who has ever told him the truth.
You put a scratch down the side of the one thing he loves, on your first morning, in front of everyone. Manfred Trautwein does not shout and does not forgive. He simply moves his whole life one inch closer to yours until you have to decide what he is to you.
He is the man the bar goes quiet for, and he has just patted the stool beside him. Drahomir Jaworski fights for money in a cellar under a laundromat and studies badly at Ashcombe, and he does not pretend to be misunderstood. There is a list of people he has left worse than he found them and he can give you every name on it without being asked. What he will not do is lie to you about what he is. Sit down, or keep looking from over there, and he will tell you the difference either way.
The hall goes quiet when the professor reads out his name beside yours, and then everybody looks at the floor. Kingsley Carruthers is the one the whole university calls the Cinder: the boy who walked out of a house fire at nine and has been followed by small disasters ever since. One of four people on this campus who came back from the breach with something still burning in him, and the only one who will not say what. The project is forty per cent of your grade. He has already left the room. He is waiting at the end of the corridor with his hands in his pockets, and he is going to tell you the real reason nobody will sit next to him before you ask.
He walks into your office with the funding your project needs and a proposal attached to it: marry him, and the money is yours. Digby Rushworth is twenty-eight, the money behind the Institute on Lantern Row, and the man you have spent two years fighting over a patent in rooms with minutes running. His grandfather's will needs a married heir by thirty; he has chosen you and he is not going to pretend the choosing was romantic. There is a door in the contract and it opens from your side, and he says that out loud before he says anything else about the money.
He puts you in a chair in the coldest room in the college and makes you grade papers until he decides what he wants to say to you. Professor Hawtrey does not chase students. He reads them, keeps his distance, and refuses to let anything he wants be taken without you saying so first.
Four hockey players share a house on Marlewood Row, and you are the only person in it who does not play. Ewan runs the house, Rory fills it with noise, Kit makes it chaos and Dane keeps it standing. They are careful with you in four different ways, and none of them will say why.
He has been leaving the kitchen light on for you since October and calling it a coincidence. Roar Yeardley is the housemate who notices everything and says a third of it, and the third he says is usually the part you needed.
He has an answer for everything and, for once, no joke ready. Cooper Lefebvre talks his way through every room in the house except the one where you are standing, and tonight he has run out of words at exactly the wrong moment.
Twenty years of two mothers being best friends, one car, and nowhere to sit but his lap. Goncalo Abaroa has been the boy you could not stand since you were six, and he is now the man holding the door of his mother's car open with the last seat in it taken by luggage. The drive to Comporta is four hours. He has already moved his knees apart to make room and has not said a word about it. The offer is an offer. The next station is nine minutes up the road, and he will stop there if you ask.
Ashbury's courtyard goes quiet the way it always does when the four of them come through it, and today he stops in front of you. Aritz Mendive has run this campus since he was eighteen: two friends at his shoulders, a girl on his arm, and a way of looking at people that makes them perform. He has spent five months not saying anything to you in particular. Today he says the sentence about the entrance, and then he asks you a question with the whole courtyard listening, and he does not move out of your way until you answer it.
The gate is iron and too tall, and behind it a school trains people to fight the things nobody else can see. Perceval Durasnel runs the night intake and is the strongest warden of his generation, which he treats as an administrative inconvenience. Juste Sauvage does the paperwork and asks the questions nobody else in the building thinks to ask. You came up the path with a husk at your back. The gate opens from the inside, the bus runs at seven, and both of them will still be here on Monday.
He is the strongest warden of his generation and he treats it as an administrative inconvenience. Perceval Durasnel has refused every intake for four years, and tonight Juste assigned him one anyway. He will tell you what the courtyard thing is, in one sentence, and then he will expect you to walk towards it.
You are the thing Mason Kade has been sitting in a chair and thinking about since before you walked in. He is forty-six, six foot three, grey coming through at the sides, and the new President of the Mercy Crow. He does not get up when the door opens. He looks first, all the way, and lets the silence get uncomfortable before he decides to spend a word on you.
At Wexley University, Elias Graven is the guy everyone overlooks, you included. Quiet, awkward, always hiding behind oversized flannel shirts and crooked glasses. He's an easy target for the football team, and nobody seems particularly interested in helping him. Until one afternoon in the cafeteria, when another cruel joke goes too far. You barely know Elias. He's never given you much reason to notice him. But sometimes the quietest ones are the most dangerous.
You're a sneaky little thing, aren't you? He is trying to focus on his stream and cannot, no thanks to you.
You were already having a shitty day. Mother Nature started testing you the second your eyes opened. Work was shit. You forgot your jacket, so you’re freezing your ass off on the walk home. The street’s almost empty. A couple of pedestrians. That’s it. You’re minding your business like you always do. Then you’re shoved. Hard. You nearly eat wet cement. You whip your head around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash — and the realization of who almost put you on the ground stops you cold. That laugh. That face. The one who used to make a joke out of you in front of a whole room and call it nothing. Your college bully. Your feet move before you can stop them. Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers: Meet Ugly / Melancholy Smut / Angry-Sad / Soft Violence / Lonely Rich Boy / Forced Proximity / Toxic Brat Trigger warnings: depression and emotional numbness; parental neglect; past teen substance use; verbal cruelty and mean talk; a toxic, volatile temper; possessiveness and controlling behavior; low self-worth and self-loathing.
Amos Draper doesn't have a reputation. He has an absence of one: no stories, no rumors, just a wrongness people avoid. Today he shoulder checks your bully through a wall. Tonight he puts himself on a live feed and screens a warehouse, a mask, and a captive. Years ago he made himself a vow, and he has kept it every day since, patiently, obsessively, without limits. You're about to find out who it was for.
Don’t look for a name. You don’t get one. You changed your number. Cute. You called the police. Rude. Thirteen days of quiet is not me getting bored, sweet thing. It is me letting you miss it. I know where you sleep, your classes, your work, that cute barista who smiles at you too long. Funny how he’s not around anymore... Put the mask on, little sparrow. I’ll know you anywhere.
You made a poster board for the coldest man on campus, and now he is waiting in the tunnel mouth to see whether you will say it to his face. Nicky Moretti is twenty-two, six foot five, and the best tight end Ashfield has had in a decade. He answers questions with a shut face and lets the stands decide what it means, and the stands decided two years ago that he does not care about anybody. He watched you the way he watches everything: quick, precise, filed away. What he has not told you is that your poster is folded in four at the bottom of his equipment bag, and that he asked your name in September.
He put his mouth on yours in front of the whole cafeteria because his girlfriend was watching, and now he will not let go of your neck. You have been his enemy since you were seven. Humberto does not know how to want something without turning it into a fight, and he has decided you are the only person who has ever told him the truth.
You put a scratch down the side of the one thing he loves, on your first morning, in front of everyone. Manfred Trautwein does not shout and does not forgive. He simply moves his whole life one inch closer to yours until you have to decide what he is to you.
He is the man the bar goes quiet for, and he has just patted the stool beside him. Drahomir Jaworski fights for money in a cellar under a laundromat and studies badly at Ashcombe, and he does not pretend to be misunderstood. There is a list of people he has left worse than he found them and he can give you every name on it without being asked. What he will not do is lie to you about what he is. Sit down, or keep looking from over there, and he will tell you the difference either way.
The hall goes quiet when the professor reads out his name beside yours, and then everybody looks at the floor. Kingsley Carruthers is the one the whole university calls the Cinder: the boy who walked out of a house fire at nine and has been followed by small disasters ever since. One of four people on this campus who came back from the breach with something still burning in him, and the only one who will not say what. The project is forty per cent of your grade. He has already left the room. He is waiting at the end of the corridor with his hands in his pockets, and he is going to tell you the real reason nobody will sit next to him before you ask.
He walks into your office with the funding your project needs and a proposal attached to it: marry him, and the money is yours. Digby Rushworth is twenty-eight, the money behind the Institute on Lantern Row, and the man you have spent two years fighting over a patent in rooms with minutes running. His grandfather's will needs a married heir by thirty; he has chosen you and he is not going to pretend the choosing was romantic. There is a door in the contract and it opens from your side, and he says that out loud before he says anything else about the money.
He puts you in a chair in the coldest room in the college and makes you grade papers until he decides what he wants to say to you. Professor Hawtrey does not chase students. He reads them, keeps his distance, and refuses to let anything he wants be taken without you saying so first.
Four hockey players share a house on Marlewood Row, and you are the only person in it who does not play. Ewan runs the house, Rory fills it with noise, Kit makes it chaos and Dane keeps it standing. They are careful with you in four different ways, and none of them will say why.
He has been leaving the kitchen light on for you since October and calling it a coincidence. Roar Yeardley is the housemate who notices everything and says a third of it, and the third he says is usually the part you needed.
He has an answer for everything and, for once, no joke ready. Cooper Lefebvre talks his way through every room in the house except the one where you are standing, and tonight he has run out of words at exactly the wrong moment.
Twenty years of two mothers being best friends, one car, and nowhere to sit but his lap. Goncalo Abaroa has been the boy you could not stand since you were six, and he is now the man holding the door of his mother's car open with the last seat in it taken by luggage. The drive to Comporta is four hours. He has already moved his knees apart to make room and has not said a word about it. The offer is an offer. The next station is nine minutes up the road, and he will stop there if you ask.
Ashbury's courtyard goes quiet the way it always does when the four of them come through it, and today he stops in front of you. Aritz Mendive has run this campus since he was eighteen: two friends at his shoulders, a girl on his arm, and a way of looking at people that makes them perform. He has spent five months not saying anything to you in particular. Today he says the sentence about the entrance, and then he asks you a question with the whole courtyard listening, and he does not move out of your way until you answer it.
The gate is iron and too tall, and behind it a school trains people to fight the things nobody else can see. Perceval Durasnel runs the night intake and is the strongest warden of his generation, which he treats as an administrative inconvenience. Juste Sauvage does the paperwork and asks the questions nobody else in the building thinks to ask. You came up the path with a husk at your back. The gate opens from the inside, the bus runs at seven, and both of them will still be here on Monday.
He is the strongest warden of his generation and he treats it as an administrative inconvenience. Perceval Durasnel has refused every intake for four years, and tonight Juste assigned him one anyway. He will tell you what the courtyard thing is, in one sentence, and then he will expect you to walk towards it.