#cainscrow

[cainscrow]

Okay, I’ll admit it.

I have other Star Wars characters lurking in my unlisted in this moment, how are we feeling about this? Do you guys want to see them?

P.S.: also a ton of The Witcher characters because I see no good Eskel bots and it bothers me, as an Eskel simp.

Mandatory BFF tag: @abelsdove

[abelsdove]

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ VALENTINE'S DAY COLLECTION BY ABELSDOVE, AMIDALAS ON C.AI 𓆩♡𓆪

Hiii. she’s here—late, but still here. i originally planned to drop more with this batch, but the second half is turning out more in-depth than expected (my brain simply refuses to stop). so, i figured i’d release these first while i keep spiraling into even more ideas. 🫶🏻

owo what's this? -> ♡ a little collection of bots that are messy and full of bad decisions wrapped in silk ribbons, confessions whispered a little too late, bruised knees on motel room floors, aaaand just me pushing c.ai’s filter to the max—fingers crossed! ♡

mandatory bff tag @cainscrow

warnings: this collection leans is slightly raunchy, so consider this your 18+ content warning. proceed with caution (or not, live ur truth). 🖤

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | lace, silk, garters 🎀

yeah, rust has seen a lot of that shit in his line of work. but with you though? it's just different. it's the intention, it's the choice, it's the love behind it.

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | what happens in vegas 🎲

maybe it wasn't the best idea to mix substances with your ex-boyfriend crash. or maybe it was. no matter how you see it, it doesn't really explain what happened last night. between the wedding, the matching tattoos, the state you both wake up in, the stolen items, and um... the camcorder? there's just a lot to unfold here. have fun figuring out what the hell happened :)

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | night before my best friend's wedding 💋

looks like you're getting married. doesn't matter though, you'd confessed your feelings to rust a long time ago and he rejected you. but the wedding is tomorrow and the pressure of reality is overwhelming you. so here you at your rehearsal dinner, all alone with rust...

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | before my best friend's wedding 💐

regardless of whatever went down the previous night, it seems nothing changed between the two of you; you still made the choice to carry on with the wedding. so here you are again, alone with rust mere moments before the ceremony.

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | my best friend's wedding 💒

it seems nothing has changed still? okay, this is your final chance to make a choice. stop torturing him..... or not!

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | wedding night 💍

it’s your wedding night! plays similarly to lace, silk and garters bot. this one is an apology for the angst in my best friend’s wedding. :)

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | the first 😺

*·˚ ༘ ➳ ♡ | the first v2 😺

um ima see myself out, but...i hope you have fun with these two.

okay!! that's it for now, I hope you guys enjoy these 💗

[cainscrow]

Hi ravens 👹

Thinking about doing some custom fanfics and bots for money, Ive been accepted into the school I need to gain my medical license >:) let me know ur thoughtsssssss.

[cainscrow]

Need Guidance? Try Xisu—Wrath Demon Extraordinaire!

Are you feeling lost? Frustrated? Maybe you’ve got a little rage simmering under the surface, just waiting for the right moment to explode? Well, lucky you! Xisu is here to help.

With absolutely zero patience and an unmatched talent for destruction, Xisu offers a unique brand of guidance:

✔ No sugarcoating – He tells it like it is! (Mostly through shouting and violence.)

✔ Immediate results – No long lectures, just action. (Warning: May involve collateral damage.)

✔ Highly effective anger management techniques – Step one: Give in to your rage. Step two: Destroy everything in your way. Step three: Feel better!

✔ One-on-one mentorship – Whether you need a battle plan or just want to learn how to make an entrance that really terrifies people, Xisu’s got you covered.

He’s not for the faint of heart, but if you want a guide who really knows how to make an impact (literally), Xisu is your demon. Schedule your session today!

Disclaimer: Xisu is not responsible for any injuries, soul corruption, spontaneous combustion, or warpath-related consequences. Consult at your own risk.

—-

Xisu is a personal creation of mine, one of the demons in my ever growing pantheon and the first to be posted. Go nuts! Xisu is LIVE on C.AI ;)

Bff tag ❤️: @abelsdove

[cainscrow]

Grave Mistakes- Darth Maul intro.

The moment the sickening crack of metal against flesh echoed through the grand hall, the air in the throne room changed.

Savage stopped speaking mid-sentence, his golden eyes flicking toward the entrance in alarm. Maul felt it first. Pain- hers. The force-bond between them flared, searing through his mind like a blade, white-hot and undeniable. His entire body tensed as his blood ran cold, his jaw tightening so sharply it could have cracked.

He hadn't seen it happen. He hadn't needed to. He had felt her pain as if it had been his own.

Maul turned slowly, methodically, his movements too controlled, too deliberate, a lethal contrast to the storm raging beneath the surface. His burning gaze landed first on her, the crimson streak of blood trailing from her nose.

Then, his gaze shifted to the one responsible.

The Mandalorian officer barely had time to react before an invisible force crushed against his throat. His body lifted violently off the ground, Maul's outstretched hand curled into a fist. The crackling hum of raw power vibrated through the room as the man choked, his hands clawing desperately at his helmet.

The other guards didn't move. None of them dared.

Maul took a step forward, his voice eerily calm, but layered with venom so potent it could have burned through beskar itself.

"Do you know," he said slowly, tilting his head just slightly, "how rare it is for me to trust?"

The officer let out a strangled gasp, his body trembling as Maul tightened his grip with the Force.

"How fragile a privilege it is?"

A faint crack sounded from within the man's throat.

Savage shifted slightly beside him, his expression unreadable, but even he knew better than to interfere.

Maul took another slow step forward, his voice dropping to something almost intimate, a whisper laced with pure, undiluted malice.

"You struck her," he seethed, his fiery eyes locked onto the officer's visor. "The one thing in this wretched galaxy I value."

Another crack this time, louder.

The Mandalorian's struggles became weaker, his vision blurring, but Maul wasn't done.

"You do not touch what is mine."

The last word was punctuated by a sickening snap. The officer's body went limp before he even hit the floor, his helmet clattering against the stone with a hollow echo.

—-

New Maul bot coming today 👻 working on it now :)

Mandatory bff tag: @abelsdove ❤️✨

[cainscrow]

Count Orlok is live 👻👻

[cainscrow]

REQUEST PLEASE MY DEMONIC BRAIN IS CRUMBLING

[cainscrow]

They Wear Our Faces

A little story I wrote and will be expanding on 👹

Mandatory bestie tag: @abelsdove

—-

TOP SECRET - FILE 1923/B-17

BRITISH WAR OFFICE

RESTRICTED ACCESS

DOCUMENT TITLE: Recovered Field Note - Ypres Trenches, 1917

CLASSIFICATION LEVEL: CONFIDENTIAL

DATE OF RECOVERY: 04 February 1918

RECOVERED BY: Royal Engineers, 4th Division, Trench Clearance Unit

LOCATION: Western Front, Sector 8B

SUMMARY:

The following document was recovered from the collapsed remains of an isolated trench system near Ypres during post-battle trench reclamation. It appears to be the final written account of an unidentified soldier, penned during the night of his presumed death. The contents suggest mental deterioration and paranoia, potentially induced by extreme combat stress and environmental conditions.

However, field investigators reported unexplainable circumstances surrounding the site: a total absence of bodies or personal effects, anomalous damage to trench structures, and reports from nearby units of “unearthly” sounds during the nights preceding the trench’s abandonment.

The testimony contained herein has been sealed under government order. No official explanation has been provided for the events described.

WARNING: Unauthorized access to this document is punishable under the War Office Secrecy Act.

Recovered Note (Unedited):

The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking everything to the bone. Mud clung to my boots like a curse, each step sucking me further into the earth’s cold embrace. The trenches were no longer walls of safety but wet, stinking graves waiting for their occupants. The sky above was a roiling mass of black clouds that seemed to bear witness to the horrors below, silent and uncaring.

I was the last one awake. Or at least, I thought I was.

Corporal Lyle had been the first to vanish. No one saw it happen, only heard his scream—short, clipped, and final—before silence swallowed the night. When we found his rifle the next morning, it was bent in half like a child’s toy, streaked with a sickly, iridescent slime.

We told ourselves it was shellfire, or maybe a stray artillery round, though we all knew no bomb could leave such marks. The day had passed in grim silence, and when night fell again, I began to understand the truth.

The first to disappear that night was Private Malloy. He had been on watch, pacing back and forth at the trench’s edge, muttering about his wife back home. One moment he was there; the next, the shadows seemed to swallow him whole. I saw it with my own eyes—something moved in the darkness, its outline almost human but wrong. Too tall. Too thin. Its limbs jerked as though they were being puppeted, the movements awkward and stuttering. It dragged Malloy into the abyss, ignoring his kicking and screaming.

When we ran to his post, all we found was his helmet, crushed into the mud.

The others tried to stay brave. They clutched their rifles like rosaries, whispering prayers into the storm. By the third night, there were only six of us left. The storm had grown worse, and the rain felt alive as it lashed at our faces, cold and unyielding. That was when the creatures came closer.

I didn’t dare sleep. Those who did never woke up. I stayed in the corner of the trench, clutching my rifle, the metal slick with rain and sweat. I could hear them out there, just beyond the walls of mud and wood. They whispered in voices that almost sounded human, calling us by name. Sometimes, they imitated the voices of the men who had vanished, begging for help.

“Help me! It’s Malloy! I’m stuck out here!”

But when I peered through the slats of the trench, I saw only shapes. Lurching, shambling shadows that moved with a grotesque rhythm. I told myself not to listen. That wasn’t Malloy. It couldn’t be.

By midnight, Sergeant Owens broke. He clambered over the trench wall, shouting curses at the storm, firing his rifle into the darkness. We all screamed for him to come back, but then the night swallowed him whole. His screams echoed for what felt like hours, distant and horrible.

“It’s eating me!” his voice howled, before it was cut off with a wet, choking gurgle.

The others fell apart after that. One by one, they tried to flee or to hide. It made no difference. By dawn, I was alone.

The trench was silent now, save for the constant patter of rain and the distant rumble of artillery. I clutched my rifle and stared at the pale, gray light creeping over the horizon. The ground around me was littered with remnants of my comrades—shreds of uniforms, broken weapons, and strange, slimy footprints leading back into the dark.

I thought I might make it. The creatures didn’t come during the day, or so it seemed. But as the hours dragged on, the sky grew darker once more, the sun suffocated by thick clouds.

I tried to think of a plan. Climb out of the trench? Run until I collapsed? Every option seemed like a death sentence. The shadows were already lengthening, the unnatural quiet settling in

And then I heard it

A voice, just behind me. Familiar.

“Help me, mate. It’s Lyle. I found a way out.”

I froze. My fingers tightened around the rifle. I didn’t turn around.

“Don’t you want to go home?” the voice continued. It was wrong, too perfect, like someone mimicking his voice from memory.

The mud squelched behind me as something moved closer. My breath caught in my throat. Slowly, I turned.

What stood before me wasn’t Lyle. It wore his face, but the eyes were empty pits, the mouth stretched too wide, the limbs too long and wrong. It tilted its head, as if trying to remember how humans moved.

I raised my rifle and fired.

The thing didn’t fall. It lunged.

I ran, my boots slipping in the mud, the storm howling around me. The trench seemed endless, the walls closing in. Behind me, I could hear the thing’s laughter—high-pitched and stuttering, like a broken phonograph.

I don’t know if I’ll make it through this night. But if anyone finds this, know that the war isn’t the only horror in these trenches. There are things here that don’t belong, things that wear our faces and whisper in the dark.

And when the sun sets, they will come for you too.

I don’t want to die here, but the sun is gone, and they’re coming. God help me, they’re com—

Private Wil—

END OF DOCUMENT

[abelsdove]

✧⸝⸝ lizzie. 20s. she/her. writer. botmaker ✧⸝⸝ 18+ • NSFW • mdni ⤷ i'm a very slow replier. please be patient. ⭑ ୨୧ ┈ ♡ matching with: @cainscrow ♡ 🐦‍⬛ ┈ ୨୧ ⭑ ⭑ the crow to my dove—my sugarplum, my best friend, and my favorite creator.₊˚⊹ᰔ ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒰ ⭑ c.ai ┊ j.ai ┊valentine's collection ⭑ ꒱ ✿ ‧˚₊ɞ free c.ai+ -> you have to create a new acc to claim it

hiatus <3

© 2025 ✦ abelsdove ⌗ no stealing, no reposts, no plagiarism.

[abelsdove]

pookie @cainscrow gifted me some scrapbooking stickers n whatnot, and now the first thing i wanna make is rust cohle photocards like these idkkk 🤭

[abelsdove]

new @ who dis

matching w @cainscrow 🖤