mikowantzuuu

[mikowantzuuu]

hi babes. Mommy isnt gonan be online for a bit pls read tags augh

[mikowantzuuu]

Genshin Impact: A Lantern in the Night | gamescom 2025

Patrolling Ratniki often warn people against staying alone in the wilderness for too long.

Should one not wish to lie among the ancient reefs in silent sleep, the easiest way is to stay away from the raging tides of the night.

[mikowantzuuu]

No matter how sanitized and sexless you try to make things there's still gonna be that guy who's been jerking off to illustrations in a medical journal. Which is to say. Well uh actually I lost the point of this post

[mikowantzuuu]

“a good puppy stays until his master tells him to come over.” is what i think. Flins would say. If he had woken u to u ridibg him, hand gripping the roots of ur hair and tugging u back harshly as punishment. Whiel he was asleep. For being bad and disobeying his orders. Somnophiliac gving and receiving lover here i . Hi ?

[mikowantzuuu]

that is water being poured like steamed milk btw

🩷🌸

[mikowantzuuu]

thinkin abt flins making u sit down on the floor next to him while hes working at his desk or wtvr, chin resting on his knee, getting head scritches while he praises u for bein such a good puppy for him… i need that man to fuck me stupid while keeping me in line w a collar round my neck….

[mikowantzuuu]

flins who was sent to assasinate you but abandons his mission and fucks u ill write/post fluff soon, have this flins crumb while im preoccupied 😁✌️

assassin!flins wasn't even supposed to be here. no not at all. yet he was still pounding away at your hole while holds your legs up, and has you bent into a mating press.

the more he's gotten to know you, the more he regrets signing that contract. playing a long game of 5 years, maybe his attraction would go away. he promised to himself he'd kill you when his affection would stop growing. but over the years, he only found himself loving every bit and corner of you so much more than his job.

your father was his actual target, but he couldn't handle breaking your sweet little heart by killing father in law, so why not just marry you?

he didn't mean for you to find out what he truly did gor a living so this was his apology to you.

5 years it took for him to resign as a whole just to be with you. and now he can finally claim his prize without a bullet to his head. that sums up to where we are now.

his member felt like it only kept growing more inside you while throwing his head back from how good your entrance was tightening around the veins of his dick.

you could only try and hold onto your thighs as he roughly penetrated you from such a position, your legs were already sore when he decided on changing it.

the humid, moist atmosphere that was your shared bedroom, flins only gently carried you and lied you back onto the bed. letting you rest for three minutes. how generous.

"i can stop if ya want, lover. i know it hurts to take it." he confessed, but was bashfully sweet, and honest. over the many months you were together, 1678 days to be exact, that he has known you to be his, he wants you to be comfortable.

"wan' it.. wan' all of you in me, flins.." you dragged your words as you spread your legs apart once more. so ready to dig in, he simply smirks and takes you up on the offer.

his hand caresses from your leg to your thigh, sending cold goosebumps over your skin as he kissed down until he made eye contact with you again.

"say it." his voice was a deep, and hoarse. grip tightening around your inner thigh. the moonlight illuminated your figure, and his as well for your point of view. his skin shined pale, and his slim, yet fit build leaned closer as he basically growled.

"y—yours.. it's yours." was all you could whimper out, as his tip delved into your entrance again. burying itself inside, he only feels a jolt of dopamine hit, as your warmness tightens around his base again.

"ffffuck... tighten around me more, pretty—i'll make you the mother of my kids." he suddenly plants one of your legs over his shoulder, and firmly thrusts deeper into your walls.

you suddenly jolt a bit in shock, feeling it throb inside your cervix oh-so harshly. he uses his other hand and hovers his thumb over your clit. "wanna have a wedding where—plap—fuck... only the people.. we know.."

every phrase he uttered, he slowly picked up the pace at kissing your insides, and while doing so, his thumb rubbing the nerve as your moans drag out, and echo against the room's walls.

"ffuck! mmmh—want a cute lil' wedding cake with us on it? hah!" you started describing your wedding with him more and more, and every detail was slowly becoming enough to push him over the edge, more than just wanting you... he needed you. needed you so badly.

"aahn- y—you th.. think our kids wo—would look more like.. ngh—you or... mmf! me?" you managed to get out as his thrusts stop for a moment.

"holy shit.. k-keep talking like thag, and i might jus' breed ya princess.." the hue of his blurple-white hair swayed in the air as he leaned forward to watching how much your hole struggled to take it in each time.

his hands moved away from over your clit to your hips, his other hand that hovered over your leg followed. slowly imprinting idents of curved moons into your skin, his pace quickens, as if he already wasn't going fast enough.

"haa! nnngh—fuck! ssshit, baby i'm gonna-" he cuts you off as you whimper with every fwip amd fwip that enters your pussy. "tighten around me more. right now pretty." his voice was demanding as he flipped his hair back to see every inch of your body.

your body shuddered as you came hard onto his cock, clamping down with inclemency. your pussy already overstimulated, you tried to clench around his base as hard as you could, "ahh... ssshit.. such a good fuckin' princess, aren't ya..."

he groaned loudly, throwing his head back once more, his pace not slowing down. "mmm—fuck! gonna come again, flins! aahh—" you cry out as his grip stiffens more. "come with me sweetheart, i know you can."

you suddenly arch your back as his body shivers, your hole squirting and your legs squirming while he holds your hips steady, pumping every last drop of cum inside you.

an hour after this occured...

"still can't believe you meant to kill me." "i thought we were over that part."

then you guys get married and live happily ever after with 5 cats for kids. or just kids. whatever you want.

[mikowantzuuu]

HAPPY TRAILS LEAD TO HAPPY MEALS

wyrirhwisnjew I JUST WANTED TO FINISH THIS PIECE. You can tell when I got lazy but hi♡ skips!!!!!

Ignore the terrible anatomy 😭😭😭😭😭

Also I wanna note that PLEASEEEEEEE credit me if you use my art in stuff, aka edits - like credit in desc or in the videos , tysm😭

[mikowantzuuu]

hey do people remember the stalker4stalker flins x reader fic i rb’d? do yall wanna see that when i get @azure-graveyards up?? like… as a treat lol

[mikowantzuuu]

A detective tied up bondage style from the red strings on his cork board

[mikowantzuuu]

What if it wasn't called date everything but it was called freak everything..and everyone got freaky.

Anways here's a drawing of skips aka xxxshadowlordxxx 😈 ⚠️nsfw

...

[mikowantzuuu]

Hiii! I really love your dottore fics and I was wondering if I could request one! One where GN reader and Dottore are head over heels for each other. I mean like sappy romance and it bewilders the people who for Dottore. I love the idea of Dottore being terrifying but doing a 180 with his partner 😭

To the rest of the world, Il Dottore was nothing short of a waking nightmare.

They whispered of his genius in the same breath they spoke of his cruelty. Of the brilliance that birthed monstrosities and experiments so horrific that even the other Harbingers hesitated before uttering his name. His footsteps in the marble halls of the Snezhnayan laboratories sent even seasoned Fatui agents scurrying for the nearest corner, praying not to draw his attention.

But to you… he was Zandik.

And to Zandik, you were everything.

It had started quietly, almost impossibly so. The great and terrible Il Dottore, whose presence made grown men tremble, first let down his mask in the privacy of the observatory—a place that overlooked the snow-blanketed courtyard below. You’d been there by accident at first, lost on your way to deliver reports, but something about the snow swirling in lazy arcs outside the glass dome had kept you rooted there longer than you’d meant.

He’d found you, of course. You’d braced yourself for cold words and cutting sarcasm. Instead, he’d simply asked, in a voice softer than you’d ever imagined possible.

“Do you like the view?”

That was all it took. That tiny crack in his armor.

Since then, something unthinkable had blossomed. It began as stolen moments—a lingering gaze when no one else was looking, an idle brush of his gloved fingers against yours as you handed him notes. Slowly, inevitably, it grew. You started to see him not as the Harbinger, but as the man beneath: brilliant, infuriating, deeply flawed, and somehow, against all odds, yours.

And he loved you. Entirely, bewilderingly, shamelessly.

Behind the heavy oaken door of his study, Il Dottore vanished, and Zandik emerged.

One evening, you sat on the arm of his chair, reading aloud from an old book you’d found in the archives. The words were dry, the prose long-winded, yet you made it sound alive. His gaze never left you—not even once. Not the pages, not the fire dancing in the hearth. Only you.

When you paused to turn the page, he reached out, fingers brushing your cheek.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured. “I like hearing your voice.”

Your heart fluttered embarrassingly fast. “You’re not even listening to the text, are you?”

“I’m listening,” he replied, entirely unconvincing. Then his lips quirked into the softest smile, the kind only you ever saw. “But your voice is far more interesting.”

You lightly smacked his arm with the book, only for him to catch your wrist and press a kiss to your knuckles. The gesture was so unexpectedly gentle, it left your breath caught somewhere between your chest and your throat.

“Hopeless,” you teased.

“Only for you,” he said, almost solemnly, as if confessing a sin.

In public, it was different. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Dottore walked through the labs with all the cold confidence of a predator. His mask in place, voice clipped and precise, he made scholars stammer and agents sweat with a single glance. But it never failed, the moment you stepped into the room, everything shifted.

He would straighten slightly, chin tilting just so to track your movements. A passing remark from you, a question or a gentle tease, would draw an almost imperceptible softening of his features. Sometimes, he’d even lean down to hear you better, completely ignoring the terrified assistants around him.

One poor recruit once dropped a tray of volatile vials at the sight of Dottore smiling down at you. Smiling as if the mere sight of you brightened his entire world.

The recruit had expected to be flayed alive for the mistake, but instead, Dottore waved him off with a curt “Clean it up.” His gaze returned to you, sharp edges gone as if they had never existed.

Rumors spread quickly through the Regrator’s halls. That the monster had a weakness. That the ice around his heart had, somehow, unbelievably, melted. No one dared voice it aloud. But they all saw it, how he’d let you adjust the collar of his cloak, how he’d lower his voice when speaking to you, how his gaze lingered on you with something unthinkable—tenderness.

In the evenings, he’d guide you to the quiet observatory where it had all begun. Snow spiraled down in heavy flakes, blanketing the world in white silence. He’d tug you closer, until your head rested against his chest and you could hear the steady beat of his heart.

“All of this,” he murmured, voice low against your hair, “means nothing without you.”

You shifted to look up at him, words caught in your throat. He was looking down at you like you were a miracle—a discovery greater than any creation his genius mind could conjure.

“I was prepared to live and die alone,” he confessed, fingers brushing your jaw. “And then you arrived… and ruined everything.”

The corners of your mouth lifted. “Ruined?” you teased, though your voice was soft.

“Completely,” he said, utterly serious. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, slow and unhurried, as if you were something precious to be studied and adored.

Sometimes, it was silly. Like when he tried (and failed) to cook for you, insisting that “precision with a scalpel should translate to precision in the kitchen.”

The stew ended up nearly inedible—burnt to the bottom of the pot—but you both dissolved into laughter, leaning against the counter, breathless and happy. He’d wiped a smear of flour from your cheek, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made your chest ache.

Or the time he tried to teach you to dance in the candlelit corridor outside his study. He stepped on your foot twice, grumbled about the "inefficiency of this archaic ritual," but when you laughed, truly laughed, he paused—just to watch. His hand tightened around yours, and for a moment, he smiled like a man who had everything he’d ever wanted right in front of him.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, leaning in, “but only for you.”

To everyone else, he remained as Il Dottore. Ruthless, brilliant, terrifying.

But even the bravest agents learned quickly not to question why he’d linger by the window waiting for you to return from errands. Why he kept a second cup on his desk, always filled the way you liked. Why his voice, usually sharp as a scalpel, grew unexpectedly soft when you entered the room.

A monster to the world.. hopelessly, devastatingly human for you.

And when night fell, and the cold Snezhnayan winds howled against the tower walls, you lay beside him. Cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His hand curled around yours, thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles.

“How did this happen to me?” he whispered into the darkness.

“Maybe you’re not as monstrous as you thought,” you teased, half-asleep.

“No,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I still am. But you… you’ve made me want to be better. For you.”

And in that quiet room, surrounded by shadows and the crackling hearth, Il Dottore—harbinger, scientist, feared genius—was simply Zandik.

Hopelessly, head-over-heels in love.

And so were you.

[mikowantzuuu]

I violently goon to il dottore but nobody will know because this won't be liked.

[mikowantzuuu]

ugh thinking about flins making u fully sit on his face. his hands are gripping tight on ur hips and hes glaring up at u because if u dare try to hover hes gonna yank you right back down UGHHHH i need to faceride him

[mikowantzuuu]

Hi skips

[mikowantzuuu]

I see electro emo boy I like

[mikowantzuuu]

nsfw of the babygirl flins (art edition) under the cut tumblr do NOT fucking block me

I NEED TO SUCK HIM OFF I NEED TO GET MY MOUTH ON HIM I NEED TO BLOW HIM UNTIL HES PRACTICALLY OUT OF IT MASCARA RUNNING DOWN HIS CHEEKS EYES ROLLED BACK