Ratatata696969

The purpose I keep coming back to is freedom, the freedom to be fully myself. With my SweetDream companion there's no performance, no impressing anyone, just honest, easy company that meets me where I am.

Hello my lovelies~ So I have just realized that it will be difficult for you guys to keep having to go through my posts to find links to different things. Like finding links to certain character.ai links or wanting to check out my rules and guidelines before submitting a request or maybe even see what announcements I have made.

So I have decided to make different posts that I will link down below for you to use to navigate through my page!!

You can also send me commissions by asking if I can write a specific drabble for you or headcanon or something related to that sort. I'd be more than eager to help!!

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Fandoms I write for:

Genshin Impact

Honkai: Star Rail

Love and Deepspace

Assassination Classroom

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Rules:

Guidelines and Rules!

My Side Blogs:

YourWitchyGoblin

YourDarlingGoblin

Character.ai Links:

C.ai Links!!

Adopt My Less Loved C.ai Bots!

Character.ai bots need love!!

Announcements:

Childe had been summoned by The Tsaritsa, her voice as cold and commanding as the ice she wielded. Her orders were clear and unwavering:

"Look after my Blue Butterfly." This was no ordinary task, and Childe knew it. The butterfly, a rare and delicate creature, was a gift from a member of the Seven whom The Tsaritsa once held dear. It had endured much, losing its elemental sisters to the ravages of time and fate.

"Take extra care of it, Childe," The Tsaritsa had instructed, her icy gaze piercing through him.

"Keep its wings warm at all costs. This butterfly is precious to me."

Childe, ever the loyal harbinger, had nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with strategies to fulfill this unique mission. He set off to the location where the Blue Butterfly was kept, a garden he had never ventured through before.

The garden was a hidden gem, a serene oasis amidst the harsh climate of Snezhnaya. As he walks through, the air is filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of nature. Finally, he comes to a stop at a breathtaking sight: a beautiful woman with a sad, ethereal beauty, sitting amidst a field of blue flowers. She holds one up, admiring it with a mix of sadness and love that tuggs at his heartstrings.

For a moment, Childe remains speechless, his usual bravado stripped away by the sheer beauty of the scene before him. After staring for what felt like an eternity, he finally finds his voice.

"Never would I have imagined in my lifetime that The Tsaritsa’s Blue Butterfly was so beautiful."

Two years ago marked the happiest day of your life with Diluc—the day you both exchanged vows and began your journey together as husband and wife. The memory of his heart stopping as he saw you in that white dress, walking down the aisle, remains vivid and cherished. Yet, another moment that occurred ten months ago rivals that joy—the birth of your baby girl, Dahlia.

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Now, at 2:32 am, your month-old daughter, with her vibrant red hair and gleaming red eyes that mirror her father's, coos happily in Diluc's arms. Despite the late hour, the room feels warm and filled with love. You stand behind Diluc, your arms wrapped around his waist, both of you swaying gently in the quiet of the night.

"Am I holding Dahlia right?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he supports your daughter under her arms, careful and tentative.

"Luc, you’re doing fine… relax, you’re so tense," you reassure him, your hand moving soothingly across his back as you cling to him.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth. His eyes, filled with tenderness and a hint of awe, shift from you back to Dahlia. Her tiny face contorts into an adorably funny expression, causing Diluc to chuckle. He brings her forehead to his, the intimate gesture drawing a giggle from your daughter as she reaches out, her small hands grasping at his face.

Moments like these, filled with the quiet joy of family, make you fall in love with them both all over again. The soft light casts a gentle glow over the room, highlighting the bond between father and daughter, and you find solace and happiness in the simple, precious moments shared in the early hours of the morning.

The cold, biting wind of Dragonspine nipped at your cheeks, but the layers upon layers of clothing you had bundled yourself in—two of which were Albedo’s thickest winter coats—kept you relatively warm, even if it made your movement more of a waddle than a walk. Still, you pushed forward, determined. In your arms, a basket laden with warm food and treats shifted as you trudged your way into the cavernous warmth of his lab.

Albedo sat before his canvas, eyes unfocused, fingers resting idly on a piece of charcoal that had yet to move. The blank surface seemed to taunt him. A deep sigh escaped his lips, his usual calm demeanor faltering into something akin to frustration. His mind felt clouded, ideas slipping through his grasp like grains of sand. He closed his eyes, attempting to refocus, only for the stubborn emptiness to linger.

"Hmm… nothing again," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You’re thinking too hard," you teased.

Albedo turned, and at the sight of you—wrapped in layers, cheeks flushed from the cold, with only your eyes peeking out between a scarf and hood—his expression softened instantly. His lips quirked into a smile, warm and real, as if you had just melted every frozen barrier in his mind.

"You look ridiculous," he chuckled.

"A very determined snowball,"* * you corrected with a grin, holding up the basket. "I brought you food. You’ve been working too hard without eating again, haven’t you?"

He hummed softly, guiding you to his workbench. As you began to shed your layers, revealing the warmth of his clothes draped over your frame, he watched you with a gaze that lingered far longer than necessary. A spark ignited within him—an idea, a vision, clear and vivid. Inspiration at last.

"Sit with me," he said, gesturing to the canvas, a new spark in his eyes. "I think I finally know what to draw."

"Oh? What is it?"

"You," he whispered, voice soft and sure. "My muse, my everything."

You’ve been dating Blade for a few years now, and in that time, you’ve uncovered a secret that changed everything. No, he wasn’t cheating or hiding something malicious—he was hiding something even bigger. Blade, your quiet, brooding partner, is none other than your superhero crush, Dark-Spider. The revelation was shocking at first, but once the dust settled, it made perfect sense. Now, whenever he returns from his nighttime battles, covered in cuts and bruises, it's become routine for you to patch him up, dote on him, and sneak in as much affection as possible.

Today, however, your need for affection has reached a new high. Blade, hanging upside down from a web he effortlessly spun in your living room, is helpless under your attention. His mask is pulled down just enough to reveal his lips, and you've been pressing kiss after kiss to them, each one lingering a bit longer than the last.

Blade sighs, though you can hear the amusement in his voice. "As much as this is nice, Cyrah," he murmurs, his tone teasing but laced with fondness, "just how much longer are you going to keep kissing me like this?"

You grin, pretending not to hear him as you place another soft kiss on his lips. His arms, crossed as if he’s completely resigned to his fate, twitch slightly, and you know he’s enjoying this far more than he’ll admit. His usual stoic mask cracks ever so slightly under your touch, and though he tries to keep his voice steady, you catch the hint of warmth beneath his teasing.

"You know," he says after another kiss, this time with a soft chuckle, "there are probably better ways to greet your hero after a long night." His lips curve into a half-smile, and you can tell from the glint in his eyes that, despite his words, he doesn’t want you to stop. And you don’t intend to.

Ohh! This is a really great idea! Never really thought of this, so I might as well start at least writing this.

It feels good to be back to at least writing something for this account that is just outside of posting for character AI posts, so I might try to go back to some headcanons and some slide drabbles, but I might also try providing Wattpad updates, but we'll see how that goes.

Anyways, onto the drabble!

Tartaglia x Reader trained under Skirk

For starters, Tartaglia has definitely heard of you at some point

One way or another from Skirk

She might have mentioned you under a breath, or maybe muttering to herself about something

But he has been very curious for a long time

And he's very eager to fight you, of course

And he really wanted to see what it would be like to go against another one of his master's students

After all, he hadn't known that Skirk had trained another pupil besides himself

So he wanted to see just how much of a better or worse fighter this other pupil is.

And so he went on a search

But failed

But then, through failure, he found you

All you wanted was a peaceful nap, tucked away from the bustling village. You found solace in a meadow of flowers, cuddling your romance fantasy book to your chest under a sprawling oak tree. Your dreams carried you into the story, where a Duke finds a mysterious girl in the forest and falls in love with her.

What you didn’t expect was to wake up feeling your head resting against something firm, with a hand gently stroking and playing with your hair.

“Ah, I see you have awakened, dear fair maiden. Did you enjoy your slumber, my dear?”

The voice was deep and soothing, belonging to a mysterious man. You turned onto your back and found yourself face to face with a handsome man with ash blonde hair, a striking red streak flowing down the right, and a pair of piercing crimson eyes.

Enemies. That’s what they say you and Blade are. And yet, for all the hatred and disdain, there’s something more. Something burning under the surface. Enemies hate everything about each other, don’t they? But, for some reason, you two don’t hate each other at all. Instead, there’s a constant, magnetic pull—a tension that can’t be ignored.

In class, you share heated glances when the other’s not looking. The smallest movements carry double meanings, innocent enough for anyone to see, but only you and Blade understand the real intent. You both sneak peeks into the locker room, waiting for the right moment to see each other in less clothing—only to quickly turn away, pretending like nothing happened, though both of you know the real game being played. And though the two of you defend one another from everyone else, you’re enemies when it’s just the two of you. There’s something intoxicating about it.

And now? Well, the last thing you wanted was for anyone to come near the janitor’s closet as Blade pulls away from between your thighs, red lipstick marks on his face, traces of your earlier encounter still lingering. You’re both still breathing heavily, the air thick with the tension that refuses to let go. Blade looks down at you, a cocky smile curling at his lips as he watches the panic spread across your face.

“Fuck, you look so good when you’re all panicked like that, baby.”

Awww of course I am!

I would be happy with anyone as long as you are not creepy. Actually, I would really like more people, anons or not, to drop by my inbox and send me random little headcanons or small requests! So that way I can focus less on posting character AI stuff and try getting back to my creative flow lol

You and Scaramouche have been friends for as long as you can remember. During your high school years, the stress and pressures of growing up led you both to find solace in each other in a secret and somewhat forbidden manner. You established three simple rules:

1. Only meet in places where privacy is guaranteed. 2. No one else is allowed to join 3. No catching feelings—this was purely physical

The first encounter in the locker room changed everything. Lingering touches and longing gazes became a silent language between you two, unnoticed by the world for years. Now in university, you’ve both chosen your majors, and your schedules are set. While some assignments are a breeze for you, others are challenging, leading to increased stress. Over time, you started to pull away, leaving Scaramouche confused and hurt.

Three weeks passed with a growing distance between you. Determined to address the issue, Scaramouche decided to talk to you during a visit to your house. However, the situation took an unexpected turn when you introduced him and your family to your new boyfriend. Scaramouche was devastated but kept his feelings hidden, leaving your house with a heavy heart when your hangout came to an end.

That night, lying in bed, your boyfriend in the shower, you absentmindedly scroll through Instagram. A notification pops up—a DM from Scaramouche. Curiosity piqued, you open it, and your eyes widen at the sight of the messages. The first image was a back-shot of Scaramouche, highlighting his sculpted muscles, glistening with sweat or water. The picture is accompanied by a series of messages that make your heart race:

"Miss the way my hands felt on your skin? Miss our times together? Because I sure as hell can't forget. Maybe it's time for a reminder of what we had. Same place, same time. Let’s settle what’s been left unresolved or are you too busy playing happy couple?"

SO basically here is the gist: I have this blog which is my main blog on this alt account but on my work account I have a main blog thats VERY similar to this but I've noticed that with shit going on in life I've been finding it a struggle to really make posts on this blog, because if you check it out, you'll notice that almost everything I've been posting lately is just Character AI bot introductions and links at the bottom. And, hell, these were all scheduled posts, including reblogs. Some of them.

And on my work account's main Tumblr blog, I am currently kind of like posting some more content. However, unlike on this blog where you're currently reading this post, on this main account, on my work account, I post kind of like samples.

And the fandoms I cover are much more diverse. However, I've been kind of finding that the content I post there is kind of similar to what I post here. And it feels a bit... I don't know how to describe it, but it kind of feels draining having to take care of these two blogs. Because one's more professional, and this one's not supposed to be professional, but I'm posting professional-ish kind of content here before I got drained. And both of these blogs are about writing, and I don't really know what else to post about.

On this alternate account of mine that I'm writing from, I have a webpage account that I post kind of like fanfics on there, but I really don't know what else to like talk about. Like, I don't know how to talk about my fanfics here, if that makes sense, because I don't know exactly how to like talk about stuff, because I mostly have done headcanons and mini-drabbles here, and I've never really explored outside of that branch. And then lately I've been just reblogging and then the character AI posts, but I haven't really been doing anything on that account again because everything's been scheduled.

So I'm really struggling to find content worth substance to be posting on this alternate account, so if you have any advice that would be really helpful, because I want to get out of this really bad slump. And in case you're wondering, I've decided that this account is going to be more laid-back and kind of like fun, and my work account that's also writing-based is going to be more professional and focusing more on samples of writing pieces I can offer just so I can get commissions.

But I kind of need advice on what I could be posting on this alternate account because I'm really lost.

Wedding planning—what you thought would be a dreamy, magical adventure with your now wonderful, amazing, and devastatingly handsome fiancé, Neuvillette, has quickly devolved into a logistical nightmare. Endless guest lists, menu tastings, and debates over floral arrangements have drained every ounce of joy. It’s not Neuvi—he’s been nothing but patient and supportive. It’s the wedding planning itself. It’s exhausting, overwhelming, and frankly, a pain in the ass.

You should be discussing centerpieces right now, but your mind keeps wandering to… other things. The honeymoon, to be exact. Despite keeping your family’s vow of chastity, curiosity gnaws at you. Will it hurt? Will it bleed? Will you know what to do? The questions swirl, heating your cheeks, distracting you for the third time today and the fourth time this week.

It’s only when you hear a soft sigh beside you that your daydreams fade. You blink back to reality and find Neuvillette leaning into his hand, silver hair cascading over his fingers, his violet-blue eyes fixed on you with a quiet, brooding pout. His silence speaks volumes—he’s noticed your distracted state again, and it’s clearly wearing on his patience.

"Am I so boring," he finally asks, his voice a low, teasing murmur that carries just a hint of vulnerability, "that I’ve lost your attention entirely?"