#oc mārīte tag

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this weeks oc art dump! yay. plus a wip that im procrastinating on

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idk how this happened but im not mad about it

"Why are you awake?"

"Mm?" Sylvester hums, looking up at the man, eyes tired and hair unkempt. The clock reads close to 4 in the morning.

"You heard me. What are you doing up?" Butcher asks again, sitting down next to Sylvester on the couch.

"Pre-flight jitters?" He asks, pulling the man into his lap, who slowly relaxes, as Butcher's scarred hands knead at Sylvester's shoulders ever-so gently, wanting him to relax.

"I.. think so."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"What if I'm making a mistake?"

"Elaborate." Butcher pries, hands still on the older man's body.

"What if.. I ruin their lives? They'll be alone. Absolutely alone."

"Oh c'mon, give Mary and Sam a little more credit. She's tough as nails and the boy trusts you like a dog. Besides, you three will be alone together. The kids trust and adore you, dollface. They'll be fine. "

"...And if they're not...?" He asks after a brief silence, before expanding "what if.. What if none of us are alright?"

"Then you remember my damn number and call me. I'll get your sorry asses back in my arms the moment shit goes south, y'hear?"

"Yeah... I hear."

"Good kitty. C'mon, back to sleep with you now. You gotta get some sleep. Eye bags ain't cute on that muzzle of yours." Butcher states simply, pulling a blanket over the both of them, still on the couch.

"I'll be right here, kit. Just get some rest." He coos, pressing a soft kiss into the other's hair, still holding him. He savors the feeling of Sylvester's face nestling in the crook of his neck. He stops his impromptu massage when the short man's breathing evens out, smiling sadly at the thought that he leaves tomorrow, but pushes the thought away.

"Dream of me, dollface." He murmurs, staring up at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the packed suitcases.

"... Please."

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in that moment, all sylvester could do, was stare. the bag of groceries slipped from his grasp unceremoniously, landing on the asphalt with a thud.

it felt like his mind was lagging behind. forcing him to watch his body move in slow-motion, yet also at light speed. there was a brief moment of silence between the three, mārīte already clinging to sylvester's leg, staring at the stranger too. she's about to pipe up, when he regains his composure, the awkward moment, as well as his shock, fading away.

he shakes his hand, being oddly gentle, despite the obvious difference in stature, just silently hoping the man doesn't notice how cold and clammy his is. and he lets go sooner than either party would have liked to, but its clear his nerves are getting to him

"... fate took her damn time.. im... i'm sylvester.. this here is mary.. my apologies i.. figured you don't exist, to put it bluntly" the man laughs nervously, clearly intimidated... but a quick glance at his own wrist, confirmed what the man said. its pointing right at the stranger.

but despite the unusual situation, the tiny girl's eyes sparkle, as she gets yet another onslaught of questions that demand to be answered.. just what her father didnt want to hear, his expression hardening just by seeing that little glint.

"does this mean i have two dads? why is your name stone? will you live with us-"

luckily, a firm stare is all it took for her to quiet down, as sylvester addressed his.. soulmate..? once more, now a bit more composed, as he reaches down to grasp his grocery bag, the other one patting the head of his (their...) daughter.

"my apologies... children love questions... it's.. its lovely to meet you... sir. unfortunately.. i dont have much time"

however, in their hasty return to their apartment, sylvester at least had the clarity to slip the man one of his business cards.

aesthetically, nothing special. just a few buzzwords on it, his face, but most imporantly, a number.

by the time stone snaps out of it and glances up, the pair are already down the block, stepping into the stairwell of an apartment space

crying in the club cuz i have no idea how to continue onto. That. cuz i have no idea how stone would behave in that soulmate situation aAAA,,,

/lh

Don't worry, my brain is working now, thank God. But I'm afraid I might not do Sylvester's dialogue justice, so I just... I'll do a little and then we'll bounce off each other.

Stone stared down at the silver-haired man who was his soulmate, if the compass was to be true.

Maybe it was malfunctioning, it wouldn't surprise him if he was the first person person to have a malfunctioning compass tattoo. He was so unlucky in life with everything else, why should he believe a soulmate was in the cards for him?

But the man in front of him... Stone could feel it in his bones it was true, though his usual paranoia waged war with his heart and gut. He wanted so badly for it to be true that this man was his soulmate. And that made him braver than usual, bringing back his yearning to have someone beside him.

Stone realized he was taking too long to respond, so he cleared his throat. "It seems... It seems my compass tattoo is directing towards you," he said, cursing himself internally as his voice was cold as usual. He could not shake his usual cold and stoic demeanor, not even in the face of his soulmate.

He looked down at the man's daughter, noticing her bright eyes on him. He would've tried to smile, if he knew how to. His attempt probably would scare her, he told himself. It was a shame, he felt the stirring of fatherhood towards her despite not even knowing her yet.

"I'm... Call me, Stone," he added, sticking his large hand out for the man to shake. Even now, he couldn't tell this stranger, his soulmate, his name. "It seems fate has brought us together, at last."

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struggled to come up with ideas so... woe oc art be upon thee!! shes cute in clown outfits so it works out :•)

day 2's prompt: pride

@clownartmonth

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pspsps @izak-gov and @rain112-darling come get yalls soup

[colour pallete link here]

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live laugh love mārīte!! 🐞❤️

testing out the colour variety i can get with a singular ink

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additionally, Līva isnt even a cat hybrid herself. the reason Mārīte is a maine coon hybrid, is because the man she cheated on Sylvester with had maine coon genetics in his lineage, even though he himself looked fully human.

Such is also the reason Līva despises Mārīte to the point of declawing and filing her fangs: she didnt know about the rest of his family and was expecting a 100% human child.

blinking at you

what breed of cat do you associate with sylvester?

(i can never remember if you’ve already said, WHOOPS.)

sylvester's russian blue shorthair while mārīte is a mainecoon :) those are the actual breeds of them and why they look so different from each other !!

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girlfriends :)

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getting around to drawing traditionally. heres mārīte in acrylic markers and ballpoint pen, and katie in alcohol markers, loose india ink + gel pens >:3

individual pages (with slight colour correction)

and progress shots!! >:3

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cool cat club members enjoying a nice break from work (only 1 of them is a paid employee)

@the-whispers-of-death i hope i did Laila and Monster justice. i did not know what i was doing with them

and @asexualbuthorny woe my silly doodles be upon thee

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reuploading this, but now with a timelapse because i thought it'd be fun

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i love katie and mārīte interacting <3 WOOP WOOP !!!!

wc: 2.3k

"Uh... A-are you sure this... was a good idea?" Katie asked, getting off the bus stop, following after her girlfriend.

Mary turned to her and walked backwards, a big smile on her face: "Absolutely!"

"... Alright..."

The pair of them waited for the bus to close the doors and drive onward, so they could cross the, currently empty, highway.

There was nothing but a thick, dense forest surrounding them, with a few dirt paths going inside here and there.

"Are you sure this is... the right stop?" Katie asked, adjusting her oval glasses nervously, "Seems kinda... In the middle of nowhere. N-not that it's a bad thing, I mean!"

"Oh, yeah, it's fine, Kat! I get off here every time I gotta take the bus home. Come on! Follow me," Mary spoke with confidence, and grasped the taller girls' hand in her own.

"It's a little bit of a walk though, and the road's all gravel. I could call my aunt to pick us up?" She suggested, but was waved off.

"No, no. I can walk. It's just... Been a minute since I've been in the woods. They're kinda scary, if you think about it," she admitted, fiddling with her bag straps, a little habit she picked up when stressed.

Squeezing her hand, Mary laughed: "Nonsense! I'll protect you!"

The smile sent Katie's way was almost blinding, and she couldn't help but look away, flustered.

"Yeah... Thank you," the girl uttered quietly, smiling, a bit warm in the face.

The walk is not long. Katie takes a moment to take in the nature she so often is disconnected from, her own home sterile and clean. But now her sneakers are covered in mud, and she can smell the subtle scent of pinewood.

Her eyes drift to the hand that Mary is still holding, swinging it back and forth playfully. It'd be a lie if she said she wasn't nervous to meet her family, but Mary had already met her own mother. It's only fair she returns the favor, no matter now bad she wanted to bail out last minute.

The thoughts got wiped the second the shorter of the two started humming. It was a little tune, purely mindless, but it did wonders to soothe her. Even if the artsier of the two teens did not notice it.

They walked, walked, and walked some more, until the forest began to clear. Katie briefly glanced at her watch. It's been a little over four kilometers already, most of that spent in comfortable silence. Briefly she considered what it must be like to make that trek at night, in the dark, alone and with increased animal activity, but waved that thought away.

But then the road shifted from mud and gravel into asphalt, and the trees slowly cleared, revealing a grassy clearing, with two homes near each other. The weather was warm and sunny, and the horses on the property were grazing.

The curly haired girl spoke up: "Oh, we're almost there! Auntie upgraded the road here recently, he said it was getting on his nerves. We just gotta get past his house now, its this one right here," she said, pointing to the one closest to them.

"Hm... The road looks new, at least. Must've been a pain though?"

"Ugh, totally! I had to wear ear plugs the whole time!" Mary huffed, causing Katie to smile.

"At least now you can skate here. Don't need to drive to the city."

"True! Oh, it is so nice. Hey, you should come join m-"

"Girls?" A voice called out to them, causing Mary to perk up, and wave enthusiastically to the man who, by the looks of it, was just finishing up his outside chores, covered in who-knows what

"Oh, hi auntie!" Mary grinned, and ran to hug him tightly, despite last seeing him just a few days prior, and showing a clear disregard for her own clothing.

"Hey, hey, Mary you're gonna-! Oh never mind..." he laughed, gently petting her head, still trying to not get her shirt or skirt stained. He briefly glanced back up at Katie and gave her a little wave and friendly smile.

The two had briefly met before, when he had gone to fetch her from the bus park after she, unfortunately, missed the last one and couldn't get home. Katie had waited with her the entire time, both of them hiding from the rain under the shoddily made bus stop shelter.

The "M+K" they had engraved into the rotting wooden bench was still there. A Polaroid photo of the bench, as well as a handful of other photos of the two being soaked to the bone lived comfortably within Mary's scrapbook. Of course, Ashok insisted on driving Katie home as well, not keen on letting a lone teenage girl wander the streets during the dark.

Returning to the present, Mary finally pulled back, and the man couldn't help but ask: "Where are you two off to?"

"Oh! Katie's coming over for dinner!" Mary informed, and the nervous girl behind her nodded, her own smile wavering.

"Ah, I see. I remember your father telling me something about it," he nodded, but had to hide his fearful thoughts over how his friend was ranting and raving about it to him the night prior. It was a bit much, even for Ashok, and the clear distaste for even the idea of his daughter dating managed to sour his mood for a damn day. Which in turn left him needing to talk it out with him to try and give her a chance.

He keeps it to himself how Vikram almost cancelled the meeting, damn nearly putting a 'ban' on both the girls and his son on dating, and just keeps it light with the two.

"How about the three of us go there together, hm? Just give me a second to wash my hands and-"

"Oh no, no, we're good, auntie! We gotta get going now though," Mary cut him off unintentionally, and grasped Katie's hand, making their way down the road.

Cursing to himself, Ashok just figured he'll show up a minute or two after them, hoping it may soften the blow on Vikram if his friend was there besides him. Still though, it was clear the girl's mind was set in her way of doing things, so he just went back inside to wash the grime off him, and to change out of his work clothes.

As they neared closer and closer to the home Mary and her family lived in, the more nervous her girlfriend got. Her shoulders were tensed up and her free fist balled tightly. Mary's attention to it was brought only when she jumped slightly from her tail caressing her leg.

"... You alright?" she asked, stopping in the middle of the road, focusing only on Katie.

"Not really..?"

"What's wrong?"

"What if they don't like me?"

"Then I'll cry at them until they change their mind! You're not going anywhere alone. If dad doesn't like you, then we can both sleep on my auntie's couch!" she said playfully, gently nudging an elbow into her side, but her eyes spoke nothing but the truth. They're a package deal now. If Kat is kicked out, then by proxy, so it Mary.

"Hah... Alright..." It was glaringly obvious her nerves had not been soothed, but it was too late to back out now.

With a quick peck to her cheek, Mary resumed the walking, humming to herself once more, while her girlfriend struggled to keep up, her hands freezing now.

For Katie, minutes feel like hours, and the smallest of steps feel kilometer's long and difficult to achieve. The remainder of the walk is short, the house coming in closer and closer with every dreadful step, anxiety only soothed by the hand holding her own, and her girlfriend's thumb rubbing soothing circles on the upper palm.

Eventually they reach the little fence at the entrance of the property, and Mary unlocks it. It creaks open loudly, causing the girl with the glasses to cringe slightly. They pass an old, battered jeep, a motorcycle and a closed garage. Both of them miss the shadowed figure behind the curtains move as they did, having undoubtedly heard their approach.

The flower pots scattered around are neat and clean, with the flowerbeds also being free of weeds. Katie briefly remembered her girlfriend mentioning that her dad liked gardening, but which one of the two was it?

Mary lead her by the hand to the door, and began unlocking it, only for it to be pulled open by her father. The man Katie had been terrified to meet this entire journey here.

He ushered his daughter inside, giving her a once-over. For a second, it seemed like he will plain and simple slam the door in Katie's face, if that quiet glare was anything to go by.

Luckily for her, Mary was quite difficult to contain when buzzing with excitement, so before he could go trough with that little spontaneous plan of his, she stepped back outside next to her girlfriend, grasping her hand. Much to Vikram's rather obvious dismay, as Katie got a stray glare sent her way.

"Oh-! One sec, I forgot about introductions!"

Oh here we fucking go, Vikram cursed mentally, but did not want to ruin the evening already, letting his daughter get on with it.

"Dad, this is Katie, or Kat. Katie, This is my dad!"

How she spoke so cheerfully was beyond Katie's grasp, as she, with all the courage in her body, smiled up at him and held a hand out to shake.

"It's, uhm, nice t-to meet you... sir."

A second of eye contact passes. Then five. And then Katie can't keep it up and drops her gaze back to Mary, and the giant man takes this chance to go deeper inside the home.

Gulping, she lowers her hand, just following the beckoning of Mary to enter. It feels like Kat has found herself in the middle of a lion's den, fearful eyes still on Vikram's back.

"Ah, Katherine, there you are!"

The girl nearly jumps out of her skin when a warm voice greets her. It's just Mary's other father, the one who suggested the dinner in the first place.

"A-Ah-! Oh, Mister Sylvester, I d-did not expect you!"

"Gah, don't call me that, just Sylvester is fine," he huffed, lightly, playfully, poking at her shoes with the end of his cane, "Good to see that you two made it here safe. Though I really could've driven you both back..."

"Nonsense! Dad, I wanted to walk a little."

"If you insist. Anyways. Take your shoes off, Laila just mopped."

"Oh, she's home...? I thought she was out with... Y'know."

"No, no. Plans got cancelled from what I heard. She's in the kitchen," Sylvester pointed to the left of the hall, where she could be heard talking to her father faintly. Mary went down the hall after slipping off her shoes, offering to help.

Truly, Katie was surrounded by familiar faces. Both of the siblings she had seen around Mary countless times in public, and her father had even helped fix her grandmother's old jukebox, by dialing in for a friend who apparently knew his stuff.

The only stranger was the other, more mysterious and terrifying man. Her adoptive father.

Getting a reassuring pat on the back, she looked back at Sylvester's light eyes: "He'll be a grumpy bastard, but don't let him screw you over. Vik's all bark and no bite these days. I'd know."

He got a nod from the anxiety riddled girl, and then guided her to the dining room, sitting down in the chair, propping his cane against the table. "I'll be here. Get yourself comfortable, kid."

When she sat down, there was a series of knocks at the door, followed by running footsteps. Sylvester's ears twitched as he listened in, much to Katherine's intrigue.

"Ashok's here."

She just nodded, and began fiddling with the hem of her shirt, before once more getting greeted by the friendly neighbor, who leaned against the door frame.

"Decided to come in the end?" Syl inquired

"Just to keep an eye out."

"Hmph. You're making it sound like babysitting."

"Isn't it?" Ashok retorted, smile on his lips.

"Damn right it is," Sylvester chuckled, his laugh airy, and his nose twitched subtly, "Oh, food's here."

On cue, The three people who were previously in the kitchen carrying in dishware and the bowls containing everything. Seemed like today was one of the rare days where Samuel, or Sammy, as Mary called him, decided to join them.

The boy just nodded at Katie, tight-lipped smile on his face, as he gets his portion first, so he can also leave first. Secretly she wished she could do the same.

Katie figures the rhythm and routine of the chat helped time pass, but more importantly, let her ignore (or at least pretend to ignore) the death glare going trough her skull.

Instead, she ate quietly, answering whatever questions Ashok threw her way, and tried to think of her owns. She let Mary lead most of it, with her following into her footsteps. It was almost like a formula. A joke here, interrupted by silence, and then an innocent question or comment aimed at whoever is brave enough to answer.

Speaking of food ready to be eaten... Katie quickly excused herself from the table, and went to collect the bag she had left by the doorstep, by her shoes.

She picked it up, and pulled out the paper bag, and brought it back.

"Uhm, b-by the way... I baked bread! W-well, my gran did most of it, but I helped! It's, uh, sourdough," she stuttered out, pulling the loaf out of the crinkling bag.

She was lucky she missed the absolutely disgusted look on Vikram's face. Ashok's own warning glare made him drop the frown, and forced himself to be neutral and uncaring looking.

Internally, he wanted to stand up and throw the lovingly baked creation straight into the trash.

Unfortunately for him, his own husband has already turned to admiring the specimen, praising the girl: "Oh my! This looks absolutely mouthwatering! Vik, could you be a dear and get me the bread knife and cutting board?"

Swallowing down the fears, he complied with the bakers' request, and returned moments after.

Once the meals have been eaten, Vikram was the only one who had not touched the slice, which Katie took as rejection. That was not far from truth.

She avoided Vikram's gaze like it would kill her. In all fairness, it most likely could.

Though by the end of it, she seemed to have made at least a smidge of progress. The gut-churning glare had softened. Or was she just in need of new glasses? She didn't know.

All she cared for was the very few and very far-in-between times she got single word responses from him.

She gets to walk out of the home alive at the end of the day, as Ashok offers to drive her home, as to not need to walk in the dark to the bus stop once more, and naturally, Mary tagged along.

The words he told Sylvester were unsurprising, but still annoying to hear.

"She can do better than that girl."

"Oh quiet you," his husband grumbled. "Give her a chance."

"...We'll see."

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is it 10am? YES. did i sleep today? NO. did i just draw for 2 hours anyways instead of sleeping? YES.

but dare i present: vikram the terrible and his daugher mary

based on the painting "ivan the terrible and his son ivan" and inspired by my dearly beloved mutual @the-whispers-of-death who popped the fuck OFF [in this post] and infected me with the brain worms that didnt go away until i finished this

and a little speedpaint. as a treat.

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feel like its been a while. so. oc dump time

featuring some from the design phase. cuz i think its fun

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My brain is thinking about the Serial Killer AU again.

And so this is me humbly requesting for some Mārīte angst after Sammy and Sylvester are killed and her spiral into killing their murder. Please and thank you.

didnt feel like writing the actual murder

wc: 786

The teenager screamed as she jumped upright in bed, covered in cold sweat, breathing heavily, the adrenaline of a nightmare still lingering, as she shook, tears streaming down her face.

Looking at her hands and wiping her eyes quickly, she looked around.

Her room.

She was in her room.

Quickly glancing to the side, she saw the clock read a little past three in the morning. The loud groan escaped her was almost inhuman.

Were she in a more stable mindset, she'd worry about waking her father up, but not like it's possible with how he slept like a log.

But now? Her thoughts were on one thing.

The smell.

The awful, metallic fucking smell.

No, not smell, stench.

The stench of her dad's blood. Of her brother's blood.

Oh, how she felt sick to her stomach, almost throwing up then and there on her sheets, but she forced it down, focusing on the worst offender of them all.

The disgusting, rancid smell of their murderer.

She focused on how it lingered in the air on the crime scene. How it reeked of alcohol - the cheap kind at that.

Mary just knew for a fact that some lowlife drunk had the gall to kill her closest family. She just knew that the authorities brushed her off. Ignored her claims of being able to track him down, being simply brushed off as hysteric and told to go home.

She'll make the officers eat their words. That was a promise she made to herself, as she stood up from the bed, turning on a nightlight, reaching for her backpack, as she begun throwing stuff in.

She'll do it tonight, she decided. A month of the same nightmares every night had dulled her. The constant vision of her concerns and knowledge getting brushed off. She'll show them what happens when she's underestimated.

The little box under her bed finally came in helpful. It stashed a few knives, a can of pepper spray, a novelty lighter and a small revolver, loaded, among other things.

She took the gun almost lovingly, it having belonged to her father. The girl was glad she managed to snag it before the rest of his and her brother's items were purged from the home.

Oh, how sweet it would be to kill her father's murderer using his own old, well loved weapon. She was almost salivating at the opportunity that life seemed to present to her. With gentle hands unfit for the scenario, she placed the gun and ammunition into her bag, before snagging her brother's lighter from the box as well. She might as well make him proud in the process too.

For a moment, she was glad that her mother once disfigured her, because were she still in the possession of her claws, of her canines, she'd be sure she wouldn't be able to hold back, and rip the motherfucker's throat apart with her bare teeth and claw his still-beating heart out of his chest.

She smiled at the image. For the first time in her life, she found herself craving spilled blood, instead of avoiding and hiding from it.

She craved the taste, imagining it being almost as sweet as the revenge she is bound to get for her late father and brother.

Ah, her brother. She could still see him. Hear him. Samuel, ever the morbid one, was egging her on. Telling her to do it. To go. Saying how badly he wanted to see the sight of her absolutely unhinged, merciless. He begged oh-so sweetly for her to avenge him, telling tales of how happy it'd make him. How he wants to see the smoke from a distance, and the sweet melody of screaming from a dying man in a burning home. How only she can make it happen

She almost preened at the "attention".

It felt as if the teenager was in the room with her still. And Mary chalked it up to him actually being there. That the demented lines she was hearing were not her own fantasies, but the instead the dying wishes of a boy she loved. Or, better yet, still loves.

Taking one last look at the room, she zipped the bag and shut off the lights, entering the hallway.

Pulling on her shoes and coat took barely any time, and she was out the door within a minute.

Though, in her haste, it seems as if she neglected to remember how early her dad tended to wake up. She didn't see his lingering figure in the windows as she left, before he decided that this was surely to be bad news, and followed her. Almost like a hunter following his bloodhound to their prey.

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art dump. for the soul