#mashe

[jlandersen01]

My sister and I were eating cream puffs to watch Mashle

[altairtalisman]

For the 2400th post, I've decided to draw the Hourly Twelve's last moments as humans prior to becoming chronovens

Personally, I saw the clock as fitting due to the chronovens' time-related abilities, and it's such a coincidence that there's exactly 12 of them

The clock-like themed art is based on @djts-arts's art which can be found here

Below the cut contains two still images of the Hourly Twelve's last moments as well as their thoughts

[eelmachine]

I love to do paper mashy

[morikodrakas]

[fritzby]

Some of my drawings

[asphaltehurlant]

[thetactilepope]

If you're still doing requests, Markus/Ashe and patching up a wound :)

Oh dang this took a while, sorry Anon

If there was one thing Ashe hated about Markus, it was his tendency to leap first, look later - usually while screaming.

Rather than focus on the fact that they - that she - had nearly lost him today, she turned all of her attention to the task of stitching his wounds closed.

Two wide gashes across his side were the ‘souvenirs’ from this particular brush with death.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” He asked softly, breath hitching as she tugged the needle through once more.

Dammit, how did he always know?

“No, ’m not.” She replied, the half-truth bitter on her tongue, “Just upset.”

“Ah. OK.”

“There, all done with the stitches.” She sighed, forcing the words through clenched teeth as she began the process of wrapping him in bandages. 

Thankfully, Markus wasn’t budging from his spot, and she couldn’t help but let her gaze drift across his torso, and thought, not for the first time, that he didn’t look like someone who should have as many scars as he did.

But there they were, off-colour lines across his pale skin: starbursts, slashes, and crisscrossing lines.

“No, you’re definitely mad at me.” He said, squirming as the poultice made contact with his skin, “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

She tied off the bandages, glad that he was still sitting so she could look him straight in the eyes, “You really wanna know?”

He met her gaze, resolute, “Yes. I do.”

“You almost… I almost lost you, Markus.” She began, hands clenching into fists, “Like, not ‘Oh, you got hurt pretty bad, and I was scared’, but…”

She broke off with a exasperated huff, turning away; part of her still hated it when people saw her cry.

“What the hell were you thinking, using the Utter Dark Blast while you were so injured?” the question was tinged with desperation, as she uncurled one hand and raised it to swipe at the tears.

“Ashe, I…”

“I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want you to justify it! Because I know. Gods, I know that it was the only way, but…”

She heard him hop down from the table and walk towards her, before his arms wrapped around her waist. He pulled her close, resting his chin on her head.

Finally, Ashe let herself relax, leaning back against his chest, placing her hands over his own.

“Is it really so wrong that I want you to stay alive, with me?”She whispered, terrified of the answer, “Can’t I be selfish with just this one thing?”

He hummed a few bars of a melody under his breath, the first one she had helped him write.

“Of course you can. It’s not very selfish, but you absolutely can be.”