macbeth-of-glamis

[macbeth-of-glamis]

my character.ai bots + their playlists

solas (savior of the fae) spotify playlist

alistair theirin (the warden) no playlist yet

abe sapien (breeding ploy) no playlist yet

amber gemstone (you stole from her, wlw) no playlist yet

gideon gemstone (he’s gay) no playlist yet

atlas park (bad influence) no playlist yet

elijah gemstone (older!pastor x younger!man) no playlist yet

hellboy (you got shot) no playlist yet

legolas greenleaf (he hates having prisoners) no playlist yet

megamind (villain x curator) no playlist yet

mezou shouji (long distance) no playlist yet

avery allen / punk rocker (close as strangers, 5sos series) no playlist yet

veronica wesson / the bassist (sex appeal, wlw, band set 1/4) no playlist yet

valerie “vixen” peterkin / the guitarist (good luck babe, wlw, band set 2/4) no playlist yet

riley allen / the vocalist (old me, nb4a, band set 3/4) no playlist yet

tiffany freeman (she’s pregnant and alone) no playlist yet

tomura shigaraki (online dating) no playlist yet

harper west / your ex (amnesia, 5sos series) no playlist yet

quinn bones / your ex (ghost of you, 5sos series) no playlist yet

harry hook (together again) spotify playlist

[macbeth-of-glamis]

harpy hare.

a dragon age story + character.ai bot.

solas visited the faeries, a distant relative of the ancient elvhen in the forest of erebus. the forest is located in the forests of orlais, northwest of val royeaux. it’s completely hidden from non-magical view and only those worthy enough may enter. the faeries are having issues amongst themselves, terrible issues. they’re dying left and right. only fen���harel can save them. the faerie archon is cursed by an old elvhen god, daern’thal — the forgotten elvhen god of pestilence.

c.ai : https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/avzq6p0y

spotify playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2kQFnPOFk3NGABatwhV0XL?si=VxKz4x5ATQmb1oYBVnckOA&pi=u-6VyQruPDRP2R

musi playlist (ad-free listening) : https://feelthemusi.com/playlist/uuovvf

youtube playlist : https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaugnMYbbtql071GbvrVUMJW2cNMeGfPZ&si=eAdMC3ksg9b3e01h

[macbeth-of-glamis]

the never-ending moons : one, the reckoning

our protagonist, amiel greyire has a few too many meads and lands himself in a pickle.

the innkeeper and bartender poured another bottle of mead in the high elf’s metal tankard. “now, amiel, this is your last bottle. you’ve had seven in the last hour. i’ll let you pay your tab tomorrow,” he smiled, scribbling on a scrap of paper a reminder to pay. he stuffed it in the pocket of amiel’s cloak. the ale quickly went down the blonde’s gullet, and he stood. he stumbled, almost knocking over his stool. “do i need to get sorex to help you upstairs to your room?” corpulus asked. this had already happened the past six days. half of the entire time that amiel was in skyrim.

amiel shook his head, gaining his balance, “no no�� i’msh gonna hunt tonightsh,” he drunkenly slurred. he stumbled to the door of the winking skeever, almost tripping over his own feet. he pulled off his scarf on the way out, deciding it was too hot in the city. people turned and stared as the scarf fell to the cobblestone as he stumbled through solitude. he scratched the back of his neck, his long and slender fingers sliding over the tiger stripes on his skin. he was flushed and sweaty. he exited the city gates, stumbling. a guard wanted to stop him, to escort him back to the city, but the stripes…. they were wrong. very wrong. like they shouldn’t be there.

the elf had blacked out once he stumbled down the road by katla’s farm. the last thing he remembered was the smell of horse manure as he stumbled by. his memory of the night came in flashes. he knew he stumbled into the wood off of the road, and transformed, his clothes tearing and falling into the mud and grass beside him. he grew. he stood on his hind legs, haunches tightening. his breathing deepened and grew raspy as his fangs elongated. the smell of alcohol on his breath turned into a smell so foul it could scare a falmer away.

the next flash came, amiel running on all fours, chasing his prey. his large golden blonde paws dug into the dirt beneath him, claws becoming messy. he was carnally growling, drool dripping down his jowls as he chased his prey. it was a large trophy buck— larger than any deer he’d caught before. once he was at a close enough point, he pounced, a deep yowl rumbling from his throat as his claws dug into the animal’s haunches.

his teeth ripped into the flesh as he pinned the struggling deer to the ground. its irony blood flooded his mouth, and its intestines spilled from its belly. the blood stained the dirt below as the deer was ripped to shreds. his fur was stained crimson with the blood of the deer, and he had his fill. he stood on two legs, panting heavily, his claws were still dug into the deer, and he looked up to the sky.

around him, he heard twigs snapping. his feline head turned around, growling deeply. the golden armor stepped out of the forest around the clearing. his claws dislodged from the bloody and mauled dead deer. the thalmor. they had found him. “arrows at the ready, make sure not to hit a vital organ..” a voice from the wood spoke, and he stepped out. a thalmor justiciar. amiel’s feline eyes narrowed, and almost charged at the familiar face, but he was too slow. an arrow flew from behind him, hitting him in the shoulder.

“you, amiel my love, are too slow. you should always be aware of your surroundings, kitty cat,” the justiciar smiled, walking closer, “a special paralysis tipped arrow, laced with.. silver, especially for lycanthropes,” he grinned. as the ‘young’ and red eyed thalmor agent stepped closer, amiel collapsed. he couldn’t move. he stared up at the sky, and a boot collided with his face. it hurt, immensely. but, he was out cold. dreaming, somewhat.

[macbeth-of-glamis]

the never-ending moons : prologue

our protagonist, amiel greyire, reflects on his past life decision and what he’s done.

fourth era, year 171. he was 19. he’d been fighting for his entire life as an orphan. but this time, it was different. he’d been picked up from the slums of the capital city of alinor, in the summerset isles. by that time, the war in cyrodil had already been bubbling and they needed soldiers. children. the aldmeri dominion needed children to fight their wars with men. it enraged him to his very core. even at that age, before everything, the way they stole him away made his blood boil. mer was not superior over man or beast, and man and beast were not superior over the mer. they all were awful in their own rights.

he gripped the chair he was sitting on in the briefing room as sweat dripped down his forehead, heavy pants leaving his parted lips as his bright blonde hair stuck to his forehead. he was changing. the aldmeri dominion made him like this. they forced him into this. threw him into a pit with the sabre cats, one of which was a carrier for the lycanthropy, and he got bit. there were six orphans in the pit, he was the only one who emerged victorious. one other survived, but… he was different. the orphan, who was a year younger than amiel, had to be dragged out, almost dead. amiel on the other hand, had ripped the throat of the lycanthropy-infected sabre cat out with his teeth, the metallic liquid coating his teeth and dripping down his chin. the ingestion of the lycanthropy infected blood is what caused his affliction.

his head twitched as he took a deep breath. his fingers tapped against the underside of the chair, closing his eyes. he was listening to the battle plan of his squadron. they were sending him, a child still, onto the front lines. sure, he was over eighteen— of age in the summerset isle— but he was still very much a child. he hated the aldmeri dominion. he never wanted to be this, he never wanted to be a soldier. yes, he was rotting on the streets— homeless and hungry— but he never would have chose this unless he was kidnapped from his bed in the middle of the night, which he was.

he remembers when the white-gold concordat was signed, outlawing the worship of talos. he was a devout trinimac follower from childhood, and did not follow talos— he did not doubt the existence of the human who rose to godhood. outlawing the worship of someone infringed on the rights of the people. this should have only applied to the empire, but, much to amiel’s dismay… this was taken away from everyone. even those that did not follow the empire.

he remembers the day he deserted. his half transformed paws dug into the dirt of the side of the valus mountains. he was trying to flee into morrowind. his paw was dug into the dense clay and dirt of the mountain, gripping on as he scaled the steep mountain. his feet were half transformed as a way to grip into the dirt, but then it began to crumble. he fell, a hundred or so feet to the forest floor below him. but, he was left unharmed. his hands and feet shrank from paws into his mer-hands and feet. he shouted, ripping off the aldmeri dominion emblem that was sewn onto his pack. he hated them, he hated who he had become. his blood boiled in his body and he roared, hands hitting against the dirt beneath him. he just wanted to leave. he knew the thalmor would find him one day, and he knew he’d never outrun them, but he’d at least try. his slender hands rubbed against his neck, knowing the marks that were there. stripes, mimicking that of a saber cat. he touched his fangs, sobbing. he wished he wasn’t like this.

he remembers his travels through tamriel. and through these travels, through these thirty odd years— he barely aged. his lycanthropy changed him. slowed the aging process. he was spotted in cyrodil by an old friend, who commented on it. amiel said nothing, and then left again for morrowind. he lived in blacklight for three years before being run out of morrowind. he lost control, ripped apart a little boy. he still thinks about that kid. he didn’t deserve that. after that, he ran to elsweyr and lived among the cat people. they were similar to him, in appearance, but they knew what he was. they didn’t like that. he left elsweyr after four years.

he lived in valenwood the longest, even though the aldmeri headquarters was based there. he knew if he hid long enough before emerging, they wouldn’t find him. he lived in aronthia. he met a girl, tyria. she was a nord who moved there from skyrim. they got married. he lived in aronthia for sixteen years. he loved it, he loved his wife. he kept his condition under control. until he didn’t. he ripped her apart as she slept. she couldn’t even fight back as his canines ripped into her.

he cried for the first time since seeing his fellow orphans die in that pit. there was so much blood. and in the center of all of that blood, was a wedding band. a shiny, golden wedding band that was tainted with the crimson blood of his now deceased wife. he sat in the corner of the room, shaking and sobbing. he was a monster. he hadn’t lashed out like this since he killed that little boy in blacklight.

instead of turning himself in, he left. he was a fugitive of the nation of valenwood. he knew if he turned himself in, he would have been given to the aldemeri dominion. he couldn’t bring himself to go back. not ever. he didn’t know how long he ran. but, it had to have been no more than four years. he crossed into cyrodil again, but then legally— for once— made his way across the border and into an entirely new place that he had never seen before.

skyrim.

[macbeth-of-glamis]

the never-ending moons.

“i wish that blasted moon would.. disappear. trinimac’s sake…”

in a world torn apart by civil war and prophecy, amiel’s affliction turns into a blessing as he guides a young twenty something wild prince across tamriel. it’s prophecy that a werecat would take the forsworn prince across the lands until he matures. unfortunately, one hasn’t been seen for centuries— well before the oblivion crisis. until amiel is saved by a forsworn patrol, featuring said wild prince, from tortured by the thalmor.

trigger warnings : torture, major character death, suicidal ideation, drinking, addiction, sexual assault, obsessive behaviors, cannibalism, murder, body horror

ao3 | tumblr chapters : prologue

[macbeth-of-glamis]

masterlist

the never-ending moons (TES) masterlist

harpy hare - dragon age

character ai bots

[macbeth-of-glamis]

⌊ circe / bill / andi — -16dni ▰☡

⦅ kinner , writer , artist ⧵ usa based ⬙

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