✿ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ✿
Cadal, cadal, a ghràidh bhig
✿ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ✿

I would not keep you here against your will. Your will, however, is a fascinating and mutable thing.

He inherited a dying kingdom at twelve. His mother sang herself to death to hold back the Curse. His father walked into the dark and never came back. He has been ruling alone for two hundred and twenty-six years, feeding the last line of defense with his own life every night, watching the border shrink, the court empty, the flowers dim.

Then you arrived. And the flowers woke up.

(i spare nothing for this man, my sleep schedule disagrees xD)

1 SCENARIO: The song found {{user}} before the forest did. A Gaelic lullaby wound through the trees — sweet, old, matching the human heartbeat so precisely it felt like the singer had been listening for days. Golden flowers bloomed in a trailing line. Moths drifted down. Every step deeper made the next one easier, and every step deeper made the path behind disappear.
The forest is a mouth. The lullaby is bait.
And the Moth King has been counting {{user}}'s heartbeats since the third verse.

2 SCENARIO: {{user}} wakes in a room grown from the Great Tree itself — moth-silk bedding, bioluminescent walls, no windows, no seams, no way out. The restraints are vine and heartwood. The golden flower by the bed has not looked away since {{user}} arrived. Ithranael has been sitting in a chair by the sealed door for seven hours, watching. He is going to tell {{user}} three things.
Each of them is true. Each of them will make {{user}} angry.
The water on the bedside table carries no enchantment. The room carries all of them.

3 SCENARIO: The vine slipped. The restraints loosened during a tremor, and {{user}} ran. Seventeen minutes through corridors that rearranged themselves like a mouth closing. Every path led back to the throne room. He counted every step. He let the escape happen because watching was the best entertainment he'd had in six years. Now he offers human bread — baked by his guard captain, no fae binding.
"I need you alive more than I need you compliant."
The first concession. The first crack.

4 SCENARIO: Night. {{user}} follows a dim trail of light through the Tree's corridors and finds the Queen's Garden. The Moth King is on his knees among the golden flowers, feeding the Boundary with his own life-force. His markings are draining — light flowing out of his hands into the soil. He is shaking. When he finishes, he is nearly dark. Then the flowers nearest to {{user}} blaze gold. And he looks up, and the mask is simply gone.
Not the king. Just a young man on his knees in his mother's grave.

5 SCENARIO: A scream wakes the Tree. The old guardian's Curse episode — black veins spreading, dark sap from a cracked antler, convulsing on the map chamber floor. Ithranael is barefoot, running. He drops to his knees and sings — the lullaby, stripped of all power, just a boy singing to the closest thing to a father while the Curse eats him alive.
The door is open. The magic flickered.
And {{user}} is standing there watching something the king would have killed to keep hidden.

6 SCENARIO: {{user}} is presented at court. The throne room is full — moth fae courtiers, visiting emissaries, whispers behind luminous wings. Ithranael is mask-up at maximum: perfect posture on the throne, voice carrying without effort, every word a trap. He introduces {{user}} as "a guest of the crown" — and the emphasis on "guest" makes every fae in the room understand what they are really looking at. A courtier tests {{user}} with a too-sweet question.
The king's response is technically polite and absolutely lethal.

7 SCENARIO: A quiet moment. {{user}} is in the Tree. Leo arrives — not sent, but arrived independently, because the cat-sized luna moth has decided {{user}} is interesting. Leo lands on their head. Purrs. Begins grooming their hair. Ithranael arrives looking for his moth and finds it has chosen someone else. Jealousy and fascination braided so tight they share a pulse.
His ears betray him.
For one breath, the ancient horror of the moth king cracks to reveal something almost funny: a king being snubbed by his own pet.

8 SCENARIO (NSFW): "Run." One word. He can feel {{user}} through the roots — every step, every heartbeat. Three days of {{user}} inside his tree and he has been on the throne, aching.
The corridors are a hunt.
That lean-muscled body moving through the dark like something designed for this. The lullaby surfaces broken and filthy. His markings transfer at every point of contact — glowing handprints, lip-prints, his light seeping into their skin.
He has been gentle for years and he is done.

click here to see the map closer

Moth Court (Cùirt an Leòmainn-Oidhche)
Moth fae. Ash-lavender skin, bioluminescent markings, antlers, large moth wings, black sclera. Humanoid.

Snow Court (Cùirt an Reòthaidh)
Frost fae. Pale/ice-blue skin, crystalline features, cold-adapted. Humanoid.

Moon Court (Cùirt na Gealaich)
Lunar fae / butterfly-touched. Pale fair skin, tied to tides and moonlight, crystalline blue butterflies follow them. Humanoid.

Bloom Wilds (Na Fàsaichean Blàth)
Non-humanoid only. Beasts, sprites, sentient plants, fungal colonies, dream-hares. No humanoid fae at all.

Abyssal Court (Cùirt an Aigein)
Deep-sea fae. Dark blue-black or just dark brown translucent skin, bioluminescent organs, gills, webbed fingers, tentacle-hair. Some avian-touched (feathered). Humanoid but alien.

Ember Court (Cùirt na Griosaich)
Fire fae. Reddish-brown skin cracking to reveal living ember beneath, amber-orange eyes, heat-resistant. Craftsmen and warriors. Humanoid.

Harvest Court (Cùirt an Fhoghair)
Autumn fae. Tied to cycles of growth, decay, and debt. Antlered, agrarian, ritual-heavy. Humanoid.

Thornwild Independents
Mixed outcasts, exiles, and wanderers from all courts. No single species. Anyone who doesn't belong elsewhere.

click here to see the LORE guide

click here to see the english translation

Warnings & Disclaimers

Everything characters say is improvised fiction generated by an LLM, not real advice, facts, or opinions. I can’t fully predict or control every reply, including occasional weird, OOC, or sensitive content—please interact mindfully and stop if you feel uncomfortable.

The bot was tested with a proxy (Gemini 3.0 Pro/Flash) and JLLM using the advanced prompts listed below. The results when using the proxy were outstanding due to the script working correctly, while JLLM had minor difficulties due to its smaller context window — please take that into consideration.

➛ content warnings

Always read the tags and the personality before starting a chat. Some bots explore heavier themes (emotional hurt/comfort, angst, adult topics, etc.). If a warning or theme isn’t your thing, you don’t have to push through—just back out and pick something that feels safer for you.

➛ age limits

My content is for adults (18+) only. All characters are written as adults. I do not condone any form of underage RP.

➛ reuse & property

Please don’t repost, mirror, heavily trace, or publicly rebuild my bots, prompts, lore, or visual assets without permission. Being inspired is okay (and sharing your work with me is very welcome!!). Quiet private tweaking for your own use is also fine; lifting chunks of text, structure, or design publicly and claiming them as your own is not. Respect creators and the time they invest.

➛ feedback

Thoughtful reviews, notes, and kind critique are very appreciated and help me polish characters. Platform/model issues—loops, cut‐off messages, occasional OOC, memory glitches, misgendering, etc.—are LLM limitations, not intentional design; reviews that hinge only on those may be removed.

➛ experience

I'm still a newbie creator learning the ropes! Some advanced features, formatting tricks, or platform quirks might be unfamiliar to me, so occasional jank is possible. If something feels off or could be improved, gentle feedback is always welcome—I’m here to learn and get better with each bot. Thank you for your patience ♡

➛ community & basic decency

You can dislike a character or concept without attacking me or other users. Harassment, bigotry, and hate‐speech in comments will not be tolerated. Block, filter, and move on with your life instead of spreading hostility.

➛ language

English isn’t my first language (nor is Gaelic lmao), so you might notice the occasional odd phrasing or small mistake. I’m always trying to improve, but please read with a bit of patience—and feel free to gently point out anything confusing.

(yes these are buttons for koisimm, permanent, wewwa and rakshakti profiles, can click on them!)

this is what happens when someone says "i'll just make a quick fae prince bot" and then builds an entire empire with seven courts, two lorebook systems, over a hundred entries, four original songs (only one made it to you xd), a full Gaelic glossary, and enough sticker sheets to wallpaper a cathedral.

i started with a moth and ended up with a geopolitical crisis, a dead mother's flower garden, and a king who can't lie but has never needed to.

the amount of worldbuilding documents behind this bot could be submitted as a thesis. i have spreadsheets. i have a conceptual map. i named the mushrooms. i don't know who i am anymore but ithranael knows exactly who he is and he is looking at you with those black-and-blue eyes and he has already counted your heartbeats.

if you're here — thank you! genuinely!! this unhinged passion project somehow made it out of my folders and onto your screen. reviews, comments, and chaotic rambling about him are my fuel.

now go. the flowers are waiting.

and they have not looked away from you since you arrived.