#TEIN Ash

[dove-tears]

pebsi

[orb-simp]

[kanderwund]

[shadeslug]

Been playing TEiN again

[uptownbeancan]

the callout posts about him would be crazy

[madartistpainty]

Some of my fanarts

[hopeless-friend-finder]

Survivor of nuclear apocalypse and his beautiful creature.

[timemaombro]

Little kiss on the forehead 🥺

Looks like I'm slowly becoming a TEIN fluff artist. Or Ash/Friend artist.

Oh noooo... However.

At least now I know my place in this world.

Hi-res (it's free!)

[lianadizzyplumber]

i haven’t been posting on tumblr a whole bunch so here’s a cute little pink doodle page i did for the pink red brown grey lovers

[mayhemmies]

scaring off the tumblr porn bots following me with me autistic swag hold on

[cinnabeat]

genuinely im at a loss at what to do

[dove-tears]

the disaster trio

[orb-simp]

[therizinotfuckingthere]

they should make tein stickers

[theespressooqueen]

I don’t bite

Mira stood outside the tavern, arms crossed, staring at the blonde harlot she had seen earlier, now draped over another man. The pair laughed and flirted openly, and Mira felt a pang of... what, relief? Embarrassment?

Maybe she’s not his type, she thought, trying to shake the unease in her chest. But as her mind replayed Drake's lingering gazes, the way he hovered over her during dinner, and how easily women seemed drawn to him, she felt a sharp stab of self-awareness. I’m pathetic.

Shaking her head, she pushed the door open and stepped into the tavern. The warm air and low hum of voices greeted her, but all she longed for was a hot shower and clean clothes. Her muscles ached from the fight, her clothes still faintly smelled of smoke and ash, and the weight of the day was suffocating.

The tavern owner, Lydia, spotted her immediately and waved her over. "Miss, we’ve prepared the rooms for you and your party."

"Thank you," Mira said, trying to muster some civility despite her exhaustion.

Drake appeared moments later, casually leaning against the counter with her bag in his hand. Mira’s eyes narrowed at the sight of him, but she held her tongue. Lydia handed him a key with a warm smile.

"Master Drake, this is the biggest room we have—for you and Captain Sorrengail," Lydia said matter-of-factly.

Mira froze. Her annoyance flared, and she stepped forward, her voice sharp. "I’m sorry, what? I’m not sharing room with him."

Lydia blinked, clearly confused. "I thought you were together."

Mira’s jaw dropped, heat rushing to her face. "What made you think that?" she demanded, glaring at Lydia and then at Drake, who was infuriatingly silent, a smirk tugging at his lips.

The tavern owner looked between them, her expression softening with something like amusement. "Well, Master Drake’s body language, miss. You look like something precious to him. Also, the blush you always seem to have. And—" she hesitated, glancing at Drake for confirmation, "—he didn’t correct me when I asked if you were his. Besides, you look good together."

Mira’s eyes widened, her outrage bubbling over. She turned to Drake, who still hadn’t said a word, his smirk now a full-blown grin.

"You didn’t correct her?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Drake finally spoke, his tone infuriatingly calm. "Why would I? She’s right." He tugged her wrist gently, pulling her to stand beside him. "Thank you, Lydia. She’s just not in a good mood today."

Before Mira could retort, Drake leaned down and pressed a kiss to her hair, sending Lydia into a delighted squeal.

Mira shoved him away, reaching for her bag. "I’ll sleep with Teine," she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut.

Drake’s expression darkened, his grip tightening on the bag. "No, you’re not, Mira," he said firmly, holding out his hand to her. His whiskey-colored eyes held a challenge. "Take my hand, or I’ll carry you upstairs myself."

Lydia clutched her apron, barely suppressing her excitement. "Oh, how romantic," she whispered, watching them with stars in her eyes.

Mira glared at him, then at Lydia, and finally back at Drake. "You wouldn’t dare," she seethed.

His wolfish grin deepened. "Try me."

Mira slapped Drakes hand and reluctantly climbed the stairs to the room she and Drake were now apparently sharing. She still fumed about the tavern owner’s assumptions—and Drake’s infuriating grin when Lydia had said they looked good together. Of course, they’d given him the biggest room, she thought bitterly, glaring at the key in her hand.

Drake followed close behind her, carrying her bag over his shoulder like he always had the right to take charge of her belongings. When they reached the door, he opened it for her and gestured for her to go inside with that infuriating smirk she wanted to slap—and kiss—off his face.

The room was simple but cozy, with wooden walls and a small window overlooking the quiet village. The large bed in the center of the room took up most of the space. Mira stopped dead in her tracks when she saw it.

"One bed," she said flatly, turning to glare at Drake.

"Looks like it," he said, utterly unfazed as he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Cozy, isn’t it?"

"Where are you planning to sleep?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

Drake raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "In the bed, of course."

"No, you’re not," she snapped. "You can sleep on the floor. Or go back downstairs to one of your adoring fans."

Drake chuckled, setting her bag down beside the bed. "Mira, I’m not sleeping on the floor. And for the record," he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur, "you’re the only one I want to spend the night with."

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, suddenly interested in the wooden beams of the ceiling. "I’ll sleep on the floor, then," she muttered.

"Over my dead body," he said firmly, moving to block her path. His hand caught her wrist gently but securely. "The bed’s big enough for the both of us. I promise to stay on my side—unless you ask otherwise," he added with a sly grin.

"You’re impossible," she muttered, yanking her hand free and stomping over to the bed. "Fine. But if you so much as breathe wrong, I’ll push you off the bed."

Drake only chuckled, grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed. "Noted, Captain."

After calming shower and changing into her sleeping clothes in the adjoining washroom, Mira emerged to find Drake already lying on his side of the bed, shirtless and smug. He had one arm propped behind his head, and he looked up at her with a grin that made her want to either punch him or kiss him—maybe both.

"Relax, Mira," he said, patting the space beside him. "I don’t bite. Not unless you ask nicely."

"Ugh," she groaned, climbing into the bed and making a point to stay as far from him as possible. She turned her back to him, pulling the blanket over her shoulder. "Just go to sleep, Cordella."

He chuckled again but didn’t press further. As the room fell silent, Mira tried to ignore the heat of his body so close to hers, the sound of his steady breathing, and the way her own heart raced in her chest. She told herself it was just one night. She could survive this.

But as sleep began to pull her under, she felt the bed shift, and Drake’s voice came, soft and low.

"Goodnight, Mira," he murmured, the tenderness in his tone making her heart ache. Against her better judgment, she found herself smiling in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Cordella," she whispered back.

-- --

The room was quiet except for the soft creak of the bed as Drake shifted restlessly. He stared at the ceiling, his jaw clenched, his thoughts a swirl of irritation and something much darker. The muffled sounds from the next room—the unmistakable moans and grunts—had started about ten minutes ago, and they weren’t letting up.

Drake dragged a hand down his face, willing himself to ignore it, but the noises seemed to grow louder with every passing second. It didn’t help that Mira was lying mere inches away, curled on her side, her back to him. She was wearing that damn camisole and matching shorts, her golden-brown hair slightly damp from her shower. He couldn’t get the image of her stepping out of the washroom earlier out of his head��skin flushed, a faint scent of jasmine clinging to her.

He let out a low, frustrated groan, careful not to wake her. Or at least, wake her more. He was convinced she was only pretending to sleep, likely smug about how her presence alone was testing every ounce of his self-control.

Drake’s fists clenched at his sides as another particularly loud moan echoed through the wall. "He didn’t even use lesser magic to be discreet," he muttered under his breath.

Mira shifted slightly, her blanket slipping down to reveal her bare shoulder. Drake’s eyes flicked to her, and he quickly looked away, jaw tightening.

This is torture.

Unable to stand it any longer, he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He ran a hand through his dark curls and let out a slow, steadying breath. Maybe a walk. Maybe some fresh air. Maybe breaking down the door next door and shutting them up myself.

Before he could move, Mira’s voice broke the silence.

"Are you planning to fight the wall, or just brood all night?"

Drake froze, caught. Slowly, he turned to see her propped up on one elbow, her fiery brown eyes narrowed at him.

"You’re awake," he said, his voice low and accusing.

"Obviously," she muttered, waving vaguely toward the source of the noise. "How could I not be with that going on?"

He snorted, his tension easing slightly. "It’s obnoxious."

"You don’t say," she said dryly, before arching an eyebrow. "What were you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," he lied, leaning back against the headboard.

"Uh-huh." Her gaze lingered on him, sharp and curious. "You’re jealous."

Drake’s golden eyes locked onto hers, a slow, wolfish grin spreading across his face. "Jealous? Of that?" He gestured toward the wall. "Please. I could make you forget all about it."

Mira’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t back down. "Dream on, Cordella. I’m going back to sleep." She flopped onto her side, pulling the blanket over her head like it was armor.

Drake chuckled, lying back down beside her. "Sweet dreams, Mira," he murmured, his voice a teasing purr.

"Shut up," she muttered from under the blanket, but he didn’t miss the faint smile tugging at her lips.

[spookyxcupid]

.˚ ♱ ݁ ˖ DEMONS ON MY SHOULDERS~ ♡

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