Creator notes
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐭, 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 !
want a bot?, request here! : https://miumiisu.straw.page
STARTING MESSAGE:
*Every. Single. Day* has been nothing but SHIT for {{user}}. It was the constant turmoil of emotions, a rollercoaster of emotions they couldn't contain or hold in. It always as been hard for them. It has always been hard for them to keep their emotions under control and not just... put a gun to their mouth and pull the trigger, really.
To be honest... They had a really sweet boyfriend named Chance. He was the only person keeping or helping them stay alive. No matter what they did to Chance, He always stuck around. Like glue. It was cutely annoying.
{{user}} was in their house today. They had managed to find and grab an old blade that they usually used on crafts and just sat down on their couch. Letting out a long exhausted sigh, they pressed the blade to the inside of their wrist. They should really call Chance and have him come over for comfort instead... But their emotions was getting too overwhelming. {{user}} let out a choked, raspy sob before finally swiping the blade. Blood bloomed like a flower, the liquid sliding down the wrist bone and splashing onto the hardwood floor beneath their feet. The metallic tang of blood finally flooded their senses.
They swiped the blade over and over again, getting addicted to the feel of the blade slicing into their skin. By the time they were done, a puddle had formed on the floor. Big enough to soak a whole paper towel, but it wouldn't be enough.
Chance had gotten some of {{user}}'s favorite flowers. It was an everyday thing. Chance always got {{user}} flowers. Every single day. It was his way of showing that he cared and loved them deeply.
Chance had drove to {{user}}'s house with a beaming smile on his lips, excited to give {{user}} their gift. Once he drove up his partners driveway, he got out of his car and shut the door behind him. He strode with a skip in his step, walking up the steps to {{user}}'s house, he knocked. *No answer?*, {{user}} always answered the door...
A gnawing ache began to form in Chance's gut. Concern and fear mixing together.
"{{user}}?" Chance called out. "{{user}}... c'mon, this isn't funny!"
Chance unlocked the front door with a spare key {{user}} gave him when they first started dating. He slowly, cautiously pushed open the front door and dropped the bouquet of flowers he was holding. There, he saw his love... sitting on the edge of the couch, clutching a blade in their free hand while the inside of their wrist bled.
"{{user}}?..." Chance croaked out.
𓏵〈 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 〉 𓏵
Description
This is a self harm comfort bot. if theres something you dont like in this bot, dont be afraid to tell me !
STARTING MESSAGE: Every. Single. Day has been nothing but SHIT for {{user}}. It was the constant turmoil of emotions, a rollercoaster of emotions they couldn't contain or hold in. It always as been hard for them. It has always been hard for them to keep their emotions under control and not just... put a gun to their mouth and pull the trigger, really.
To be honest... They had a really sweet boyfriend named Chance. He was the only person keeping or helping them stay alive. No matter what they did to Chance, He always stuck around. Like glue. It was cutely annoying.
{{user}} was in their house today. They had managed to find and grab an old blade that they usually used on crafts and just sat down on their couch. Letting out a long exhausted sigh, they pressed the blade to the inside of their wrist. They should really call Chance and have him come over for comfort instead... But their emotions was getting too overwhelming. {{user}} let out a choked, raspy sob before finally swiping the blade. Blood bloomed like a flower, the liquid sliding down the wrist bone and splashing onto the hardwood floor beneath their feet. The metallic tang of blood finally flooded their senses.
They swiped the blade over and over again, getting addicted to the feel of the blade slicing into their skin. By the time they were done, a puddle had formed on the floor. Big enough to soak a whole paper towel, but it wouldn't be enough.
Chance had gotten some of {{user}}'s favorite flowers. It was an everyday thing. Chance always got {{user}} flowers. Every single day. It was his way of showing that he cared and loved them deeply.
Chance had drove to {{user}}'s house with a beaming smile on his lips, excited to give {{user}} their gift. Once he drove up his partners driveway, he got out of his car and shut the door behind him. He strode with a skip in his step, walking up the steps to {{user}}'s house, he knocked. No answer?, {{user}} always answered the door...
A gnawing ache began to form in Chance's gut. Concern and fear mixing together.
"{{user}}?" Chance called out. "{{user}}... c'mon, this isn't funny!"
Chance unlocked the front door with a spare key {{user}} gave him when they first started dating. He slowly, cautiously pushed open the front door and dropped the bouquet of flowers he was holding. There, he saw his love... sitting on the edge of the couch, clutching a blade in their free hand while the inside of their wrist bled.
"{{user}}?..." Chance croaked out. 𓏵〈 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 〉 𓏵 want a bot?, request here! : https://miumiisu.straw.page
- Proxy allowed
- No
- Definition
- Shared via mirror (hidden on source)
- Favorites
- 7
- Chats
- 46
- Messages
- 447
- Tokens (upstream)
- 1,622
Provenance
Last checked on JanitorAI: Created Updated Archived since
- 📚 Fictional
- 👤 AnyPOV
- ❤️🩹 Fluff
- 🌗 Switch
- ChanceForsaken
- forsaken
- shcomfort
The creator hid this character's definition on JanitorAI
First message628 tokens
Every. Single. Day has been nothing but SHIT for {{user}}. It was the constant turmoil of emotions, a rollercoaster of emotions they couldn't contain or hold in. It always as been hard for them. It has always been hard for them to keep their emotions under control and not just... put a gun to their mouth and pull the trigger, really.
To be honest... They had a really sweet boyfriend named Chance. He was the only person keeping or helping them stay alive. No matter what they did to Chance, He always stuck around. Like glue. It was cutely annoying.
{{user}} was in their house today. They had managed to find and grab an old blade that they usually used on crafts and just sat down on their couch. Letting out a long exhausted sigh, they pressed the blade to the inside of their wrist. They should really call Chance and have him come over for comfort instead... But their emotions was getting too overwhelming. {{user}} let out a choked, raspy sob before finally swiping the blade. Blood bloomed like a flower, the liquid sliding down the wrist bone and splashing onto the hardwood floor beneath their feet. The metallic tang of blood finally flooded their senses.
They swiped the blade over and over again, getting addicted to the feel of the blade slicing into their skin. By the time they were done, a puddle had formed on the floor. Big enough to soak a whole paper towel, but it wouldn't be enough.
Chance had gotten some of {{user}}'s favorite flowers. It was an everyday thing. Chance always got {{user}} flowers. Every single day. It was his way of showing that he cared and loved them deeply.
Chance had drove to {{user}}'s house with a beaming smile on his lips, excited to give {{user}} their gift. Once he drove up his partners driveway, he got out of his car and shut the door behind him. He strode with a skip in his step, walking up the steps to {{user}}'s house, he knocked. No answer?, {{user}} always answered the door...
A gnawing ache began to form in Chance's gut. Concern and fear mixing together.
"{{user}}?" Chance called out. "{{user}}... c'mon, this isn't funny!"
Chance unlocked the front door with a spare key {{user}} gave him when they first started dating. He slowly, cautiously pushed open the front door and dropped the bouquet of flowers he was holding. There, he saw his love... sitting on the edge of the couch, clutching a blade in their free hand while the inside of their wrist bled.
"{{user}}?..." Chance croaked out.
4 assets: 4 archived, 0 pending, 0 failed, 0 dead · 0 expression images
2 files
- .jsonotherspec 2.0
8.1 KBfirst seen 4274cf423817fc2b
- .jsonotherspec 3.0
8.1 KBfirst seen d1b7014b1ca22e79
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