Sydney The Fallen - Tumblr Posts

More art I did of Sydney! These are from years ago, but I swear he's still my muse to this day! I wish I still drew like I used to 😭

heads up my PC being with Sydney (corrupt)

Initiate

Male (Pure) Sydney x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

TW: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, exhibitionism, chastity cage, oral (f. receiving)

An initiate who hasn't been seen in the temple in weeks, Sydney wonders what happened to you. Your visits to the church lessened and lessened, until one day you just stopped showing up. Your presence wasn't forgotten quickly, not just by him, but by all other members of the church. Whispers would flow through the walls, whispers of impurity, of falling into lust.

At school you were the pinnacle of kindness and popularity. Loved by all, and sweet even to those who aren't to you. He finds it hard to believe what the other initiates say. Yet you still never visited the temple.

Sydney knows it's wrong to follow you, he asked the goddess for forgiveness, but curiosity gets the better of him. What would keep someone formally so committed to the church away from it? And what it was, was a strange building. Only a few streets away from the shop his father had purchased, he watched you enter that unmarked place, the filthy metal grey door closing behind you. It was in an awful part of town, and sketchy as well. After hours went by, his worry for you grew.

Grasping at his cross, Sydney followed you inside. He was met with an awful scent, similar to the communion wine, but stronger, loud pounding music, and worst of all, a plethora of people, none of them looking as if they had good intentions. In the middle of the room was a stage, and on the stage was you. In a state of undress, you were only covering your modesty with a pair of underwear. So thin it could barely be called fabric, more like strings on your groin, not leaving much to the imagination.

He flushed beneath his thick glasses, wanting to say something, but also finding himself entranced with the crowd of people. Your dancing was mesmerizing, your body…Sydney gulped and gripped his holy pendant tighter. Your body was heavenly, even as sweat soaked between every crevice of it. Your plush thighs gripping the pole in front of you, your heel clad feet making you twirl, showing off all your assets.

The voice in his head that's telling him to leave is drowned out by the feeling in his shorts. For the first time in his life, his chastity cage holding his cock is uncomfortable, it's too tight, it's painful as his hardening length presses against the confines. He tries to leave, but he can't. Not when you're on the floor of the stage dancing, money cushioning the hard wood as more wads of cash are thrown at you.

The people around the stage are like ravenous animals, hands clawing for just a touch of your skin. Their lips spew such venomous words of what they want to do to you, objectifying your body in ways he's never heard before. Some are even…fondling themselves. It's a sight that makes him gasp in shock, turning his head away before forcing himself to look back. Sure enough it's true, as you dance lewdly across the floor, they're touching themselves. It's disgusting. But he doesn't feel himself growing softer in his pants.

You sit with your legs open, already towards the crowd with a mischievous smile. Your finger dips inside your thong, hooking around the fabric. Slowly, tantalizing, you pull it down your body, down your thighs, down your shins, and last your heels. You hold the thong up with your legs still spread, your pussy dripping as you toss it out into the crowd, where they practically tackle each other to take it.

Up on that stage where you sit naked, body bare for everyone to see, money being tossed at you left and right, you finally lock eyes with him. It's be hard not to notice him, clearly out of place in a grimy area such as this, and still wearing his neat school uniform. A look of shock forms on your face when you see him there, shock and shame, but it's gone before any of your patrons can notice. You're back to being a temptress, an erotic dancer of the night, you curl your finger at him, beckoning him closer. Like his body has no mind of his own, he steps to you.

You ease yourself closer to the edge of the stage, the height of it meaning he's face to face with your dripping core between your legs. He's never been so close to something like this before, not outside the church. It's glistening beneath the flashing lights and only getting wetter as his hazel eyes look upon it. The smell is intoxicating, sweet like honey, he wonders if your nectar tastes the same.

“C’mon, lick it,” your voice so sultry it's like a song, you gesture for him to come even closer, until he can feel the what of your cunt against his face, “Give them a show.”

He looks around at the room of peopy, all eyes on him. They're hungry. They're ravenous. They're waiting patiently. With shaking hands he reaches up to spread your folds, begging the goddess for forgiveness once again. His hesitant tongue slithers from his mouth and he traces a reluctant lick all the way from your hole to your slit. The taste is…delectable.

Sydney pulls away from a second, thinking about what he'd just done, but when he looks up and meets your eyes, your cheeks flushed as you pant, he can't find it in himself to care. He dives back into your cunt, lapping away at your folds messily. His tongue finds it's way inside you, his hand reaching up to rub at your clit. If you're putting on a performance, it's a good one, moaning and squirming against his ministrations.

He can hear the way the crowd cheers, hear their filthy words and disgusting comments. He can hear it all, but if sounds like nothing to him. Nothing matters to him. Not when you're tangling your fingers in his hair and dripping down his chin, coating his face in that delectable, honeyed wetness. His glasses grow foggy, but it doesn't matter. His fingers dig into your thighs as he sucks at your clit, making your hips buck off of the stage.

“Ahh…yes…yes Sydney, just like that,” you moan for him, body trembling beneath his touch.

He'll have to stay on his knees for hours to pray for salvation and hope for forgiveness, it's only fair that he does. His chest heaving he looks down at his shorts, they're damp to the touch. He steps in an alleyway to the side to check on himself, opening his pants he sees his caged cock, covered and smeared in a white fluid.

You cum for him beautifully, a sense of pride filling him as you yank your body away from his touch to spasm on the stage. Your twitching cunt dripping down on all the bills below you. The crowds burst into cheers as Sydney’s mind looses it's cloudiness, as realization hits him. You pick up your clothes to leave the stage, but he's already rushing out the door before you can even dress. Out the door and down the street, he pants while wiping his mouth, trying to collect himself and think of what he did.

how the LIs come

18+

pure!sydney buries his face into your chest, lapping at your nipple with a warm tongue. "you're beautiful," he breathes, eyes filled with adoration as he watches you roll your hips. you take him so well and yet, he is taken by you. when you place your hand around his throat, his eyes widen. "beloved," sydney gasps, clutching you as he fills you with the warmth of his worship.

"wonderful." corrupt!sydney's breath is warm against your ear as he rocks his hips into you. one of his hands is busy stroking you, coaxing breathy moans as you fuck yourself against him. your hand braces against the shelf. there are students milling around in the distance. "i can feel you clenching around me," he whispers, pushing himself in deeper. there's a note of fanaticism to his voice, an obsessiveness in his embrace that threatens to drive you over the edge. it takes all of your strength not to keen. thankfully, his fingers, so soft and smooth, slip into your mouth. "but we wouldn't want the others to know that, do we?"

"so fucking whiney," whitney curses, taking your hair in his fist as he fucks you against the desk. "you've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he sinks his teeth into your skin, rakes his nails across your hips as he comes. whitney is selfish, but his marks burn in a way you can't resist. he doesn't wait for you to adjust yourself and pulls up his trousers. you hear him fasten his belt. "better clean yourself up before the break's over."

kylar whines. he can't help it. all week, he's been saving himself for you, palming his groin whenever it got too unbearable, all because he wanted to fill you up once you were back in his arms. "you look so beautiful like this," he gasps against your neck, rutting into you with jerky, desperate thrusts. "you'll, hah, take everything that i can give you, right?"

there's a grumble that builds within eden's throat - part growl, part rolling of thunder as his hips meet yours. "you're mine," he says gruffly, his tongue licking a hot stripe along your neck. the hunter has you pinned. his massive body cages you in while he thrusts, cock twitching inside of you as he smashes his mouth against yours to swallow your moans. when he pulls away, he licks his teeth, admiring your sweat-slicked skin as his release leaks out of you. what a sight he is, your hunter. what a feast you are, his prey. "don't you ever forget that."

"we have to be quiet," robin muffles his moans by pressing his mouth against yours. he's got you in his lap, arms wrapped around your body as he thrusts. just a few minutes ago, he had been playing video games. now, his hands are occupied, sculpting your sides. your back. when you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull, he lets out a needy whine that you silence by taking his lips between your teeth.

ivory wraith hums, a sonorous thrum that vibrates the very marrow of your bones. when his pleasure crests, it is the surge of the current. the coiling of a great and powerful tide that washes over you, drowning you as he swells. "droplet," he sighs, pressing a cold kiss to your temple. the specter's embrace is gentle yet possessive, his caress carrying the promise of adoring you during this lifetime and a thousand more. "may we never part again."

Yandere! Whitney would definitely be a type that I haven't delved into before, but one that I would love!

Vrel said that Whitney and Sydney are both characters that have yandere potential. He said that Whitney would be the most violent as a yandere, but that Sydney would be the scariest, he refused to elaborate further.

SYDNEY BEING TALLER THAN ME IS WHATS GONNA PUSH ME OVER THE EGDE

I suddenly have ideas for a fic though

Casual reminder that most of the love interests have (semi) canon heights.

I don't know what the hell they're feeding Black Wolf but he is too damn big!

You see Sydney carrying laundry and cleaning supplies in and out of the quarters

(Friendzone corrupt Sydney & nun Ena)

𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐧𝐩𝐜𝐬 𝐱 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

cw: incest, smut, dub/noncon, reeally screwed-up dynamics. 18+ ONLY.

this is my first fic for this game - well, it’s more a series of blurbs. slight regency au included too - enjoy :)

𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐧.

there are many things that debutantes should not be doing on their entrance into society. laughing too loudly, flirting too brazenly, eating with the wrong fork. yet of all the many rules and regulations hedging you about, you’re pretty sure no one ever thought of ‘no fucking your father in the conservatory during a masked ball.’

still, here you are, skirts rucked up around your waist, the shoulders of your gown pulled down to reveal your breasts, bouncing feverishly on leighton’s cock. he grunts, pawing at your chest and twisting your swollen nipples until you let out a whine.

“i’m…ahh…please, father, please,” you whimper, hardly conscious of what you’re saying, only that you want more, now. “don’t stop, don’t stop please i’m—“

as if your words mean nothing, he slows down, gripping your hips to prevent you from trying to move yourself on him. a frustrated cry leaves your lips as you pout tearily down at his smirk.

“what do you want?”

it’s a question he asked you long ago, deep inside you in your soft bed. you had barely been able to answer for blushing, but here, now, all embarrassment has fled in the face of an overwhelming need.

“i want to cum,” you whimper out. “i want to cum, please father please…”

sometimes he makes you beg more, but tonight he’s in a good mood. he jerks his hips up sharply, driving into you once more. a few more thrusts and you cum around him with a muffled wail, biting into his waistcoat to prevent anyone hearing you. leighton cums almost immediately after, filling you with his seed.

outside, you can hear a round of applause as the dance finishes, but in the conservatory all is silent save for your soft pants.

“i suppose we had better rejoin the masses,” leighton says. he sounds almost regretful. of course, he’s never really satisfied with just one round. you already know that as soon as you’re shut away in your carriage for the night he’ll be on you once more.

it’s wrong, but you don’t care. instead, you let your father press a sloppy kiss to your mouth and walk back into the ballroom on his arm, smiling and greeting friends with his cum drying on your thighs.

𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 + 𝐬𝐲𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲.

“just like that, girls.”

from where you lie on the bed, your mother’s voice seems to come from very far away. you try to focus on her, but it’s difficult to do with your sister fucking you with her tongue. sydney’s licks are long and slow, curling around your swollen nub almost to the point of pain. you’ve already cum once, and the overstimulation is almost unbearable.

sirris watches you through narrowed eyes, seemingly unaware of the damp spot at the centre of her own lacy underthings. “hips up, dear. that’s it. your future husband won’t appreciate a dead doll in his bed. although—“ a wicked smile curls her lips—“i hear some men prefer that.”

sydney chuckles and the muffled sound sends vibrations through your overstrung body. you twitch and whimper, fisting the bedsheets restlessly as the coil in your stomach builds. you’re almost relieved when sirris decides to take off the rest of her clothes and join you. she kisses you lightly on the lips before straddling your face, her pussy leaking already.

the room is full of moans and sighs, the smell of sex mingling with that of sirris’ perfume. you lap at your mother’s cunt, dimly aware of your own building orgasm.

“that’s it, dear, just like that.” sirris sounds short of breath, her hips rocking more frantically against your face. “oh…oh! that’s it, again, again—ah!”

she convulses against you, her juices soaking your face. at the same time, sydney curls her fingers inside you along with her tongue and the pressure sends you over the edge once more. you thrash against the bed, body jerking and mind blank with pleasure.

in the aftermath, sydney curls up next to you, her head tucked against your breasts. sirris covers you both over with a blanket and kisses you on the forehead.

“my beautiful girls. you’re going to make someone very happy someday.”

you know she’s only trying to prepare you and sydney to be the best wives you can be, but to be honest, you can’t imagine a life better than this.

you fall asleep next to your sister, the remains of your combined arousal leaking onto the bedsheets.

𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧.

he only comes to you when he’s drunk.

there’s sweat pooling uncomfortably beneath your breasts, making your hair stick to the back of your neck, but you can’t think about that right now. not when your father seems determined to split you apart on his cock.

incoherent babbles slip past your lips, tears blurring your vision. he’s big, too big. when he’s sober your father is one of the kindest men you know, but when he’s drunk, nothing matters more to him than losing himself inside you.

“papa…” you sniffle. “stop, ‘s too much.” you can feel every ridge of him slipping inside you, an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure.

one big hand brushes your tears away, and he presses a kiss to the curve of your neck. “jus’ a little more,” his voice is slurred, accent stronger than ever. “a little more and it’ll feel good, alright?”

he doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead thrusting sudden and sharp, bottoming out inside you. you let out a high whine, bucking underneath him, but he pulls you up against him, lifting your small body up and down on his cock as you cling to his neck and sob. the friction proves to be too much; you cum quickly, twitching and whining, but doren is insatiable. he fucks you through one, two, three orgasms, until your mind is blank and your body limp.

“papa, cum. please.” you’re hazy-eyed, drooling, the words soft and slurred and you’re not sure if he even hears you. after a couple of thrusts however his body shudders and his cum spurts inside you, leaving you hot and full as your eyes roll back in your head, unconsciousness taking over. you don’t feel him pulling out of you or cleaning you up, changing your nightgown and tucking you back into bed on clean sheets.

you’re limping the next morning when you come down to breakfast and doren suggests you stay home for the day rather than going out to pay calls as you had initially planned. you agree happily, but you don’t talk about the night before. you never do.

𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫.

“so you see, madam, our income for this year so far…”

briar’s fingers curl inside you, rubbing against a sensitive spot, and you let out a loud moan, interrupting the red-faced businessman at the other end of the table and making him blush even harder.

“madam, is it really necessary for one of your…” he clears his throat. “…employees to be present at our meeting?”

briar chuckles low in the back of her throat. “she’s my daughter.” she grins wickedly at the man’s horrified expression, and then, just to take matters further, pulls you into a kiss. you wrap your arms around her, bare breasts rubbing against the velvet of her dress, letting her explore your mouth with her tongue as she fingers you.

after several seconds, briar pulls away, stroking your hair. “my sweetest girl. who do you belong to?”

“y-you, mama.” you whimper and buck your hips as she circles your clit.

“good girl,” she whispers against the shell of your ear, before turning back to the man. he’s still trying to look horrified, but there’s no denying the lust in his eyes.

you’re used to such sights. your mother had told you one of the most powerful weapons in the world was sex, and you’d learned that firsthand, dancing on stage in the brothel and eventually taking clients. no one knew you like briar, however. no one loved you like her.

“more, mama,” you whine, arching your back.

briar laughs. “greedy girl.” she flicks your little nub, enjoying your yelp. “what do you say?”

“more, please.” you watch the man out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his hand has disappeared beneath the table. a lazy smile curls your lips, growing wider as your mother fucks her fingers into you deeper.

“i’m—i’m…ah, please yes…please…mama, i’m ah—ahh!” you shake and writhe over her hand, not bothering to hold back your moans. briar fingers you through your orgasm, only stopping when you push at her hand with a little cry.

in the silence that follows, briar lifts her fingers to your mouth. you suck on them gently, tasting yourself. she then pushes you off her lap.

“on your knees, darling. i think our guest requires attention.”

“no, really i—“ his stammers die away as you crawl over, deft hands reaching for his belt. a little smile crosses your lips when you find it already undone.

the brothel secures another portion of stock that night, and briar celebrates by keeping your mouth and fingers busy on her until the wee hours of the morning. you don’t even bother to protest as she ekes another orgasm out of your overstimulated body, your cunt clenching weakly around the toy inside you.

your mother is your best client, after all.

𝐛𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲.

he’s angry with you. of course, you can’t ever remember a time when he wasn’t. you’re the bastard child who ruined his plans to move up in the world, but now he collects more than the meagre scraps of money you earn as a companion.

you’re bent face-first over the desk in his study, the hard edge ramming uncomfortably into your stomach with every sharp thrust. bailey’s grip on your hips is bruising, fingers digging into your soft skin. you don’t even want to know what will happen if someone walks in. not that anyone else in the workhouse cares. they all know of your twisted little arrangement and ignore it.

ignorance is survival.

you’ve been biting on your lip, trying to keep quiet, but at a particularly hard thrust you let out a small cry.

bailey’s hand tangles in your hair. “i said quiet, brat.”

“‘m sorry,” you whine out, unable to help yourself, “but papa, it hurts—“

he clamps a hand over your mouth, rutting into you harder. squeaks and whines escape you, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

“what, you would rather it were someone else?” he grunts. “the headmaster of that ridiculous school? your little workhouse friend, perhaps? or that so-called duke who’s been coming to see you every other weekend? you’re a nobody. a nothing. all they want are your holes, and you’re naive enough that you would grant it calling it ‘true love.’” his deep voice pitches into a mocking falsetto on the last phrase. “i know what you are. the exact same as your mother, and you’re going to get treated like her whether you like it or not. be grateful i’m not having others pay for it yet.”

the threat is enough to quiet you, even as the coarse words make your stomach roil. you awkwardly try to push back against his thrusts, willing the whole ordeal to be over soon.

after what seems like years, bailey groans and sinks his teeth into your neck, drawing blood even as he cums inside you. you slump against the desk, sweaty and tired and sore, your neglected clit throbbing. your father barely bothers to let you cum, and you’re too afraid to touch yourself.

“come here.”

before you can protest, he drags you up again, palming your mound roughly. a few swipes of his thick fingers is all it takes for you to crash over the edge, too exhausted to let out more than a breathy sigh.

you’re still recovering when he shoves you away. “get out of here. same time next week.”

it’s not a question. he knows you’ll never try to run, no matter how much you dread this time. it’s not even for the sake of your pathetic little friends. this is the only time bailey pays attention to you, and like a starved kitten you lap up every bruise and harsh fuck as if it were food.

you’re his daughter. for better or worse.

Dol Sydney brain rot (R18)

—————-

Nothing but a pin drop can be heard throughout the church. The hall is empty, dark open to any sin that may want to come in to corrupt the innocent seeking sanctuary. Two people kneel at the front of it all. The statue looked down on them both, with a judging glare. Heavy breaths and soft moans are shared between the two sinners. Quiet and gentle, they basked in each other’s comfort. Feeling each other's warmth knowing they will face a greater heat when the depths of hell come to claim them both. “Oh.. please god.” The boy with long strawberry blond hair whimpers out, his slender fingers find their home in the hand of his lover. The one who made him starved for love and lust. For a moment he wonders if his God will ever forgive him, but it’s dismissed as soon as he feels his beloved's hands running through his messy strains of hair. His breaths come out hot as he prays into the skin of the most beloved person in heaven. Hoping that this moment lasts forever.

𝓖𝓻𝓪𝓫 𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴, 𝓵𝓮𝓽'𝓼 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓵 𝓾𝓹 𝓫𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮

(Keep scrolling for the master list) 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆 ^^ 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝑰 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉…𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔? 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔? 𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

"ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ; ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ꜱʏʟʟᴀʙʟᴇ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅʟʏ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴɪᴏɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏᴡᴇʟꜱ ʙᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɴᴏᴜɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴏɴᴀɴᴛꜱ ꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟʟᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ"

𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏💜 [𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒔]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓯~

(updated on 13th Sep'24)

1) 𝑫𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒇 𝑳𝒆𝒘𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔

2) 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

3) 14 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖

4) 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

5) 𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒔

6) 𝑨𝒔𝒌𝒔/ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒚. 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚, 𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆~

Tag list-

#ashewrites📝 #mywords💜 #flâneur✨

#ashe’s mailbox📜 #tête à tête💜 #ashe’s journal🖌️

[ Side blog for reblogs- @flaneur002

All the follows will come from the main ]

theyre just squishables now

I was thinking abt dol characters and how I imagine them so I decided to start with Sydney 🤥 just a lil sketches for now

Finished the fallen version and . . . well, I let my delusions win 😇

Harassment at the temple

Practice with Jordan

and nipple clamp

I'm sorry for the unfunny joke, it's 2 in the morning and my brain can't process what i just draw ;;