Not pictured: Two seconds later, Varrett is on the floor, writhing in pain while SIN shreds his souls just a tiny bit. He thinks it was worth it though.
This canonical Varrett is by @drawinglinestoconstellations who keeps taking what I give her, runs off, and then returns with PERFECTION.
Want to know more about Varrett and SIN? WELL IN THAT CASE, read all about 'em in Aphelion! (Ao3, Campfire, Amazon)
Tom thinks the only thing she ought to like that's got big teeth, is him.
This ancient Greece thing was real pretty. Didn’t matter what island they cozied up with, she’d always find it striking. For one, there was always that brilliant, blue water, so clear she itched real bad to go for a swim, even if she wasn’t awfully good at it. Plus, there were sharks.
Sharks, Tom’d told her (shown her, really), were very big fish.
Fish with big teeth.
So no swimming (for now), just a lot of gawking, because this island in particular was an exceptional sort of pretty. It’s beach was white and soft— like most others were, to be fair —lined with the ocean curling up to it in bright turquoise. And on land, everything smelled real good. Fresh and clean, for the most part. Salt, sunkissed air, and spice and flowers— so. many. flowers. Blue, red, yellow, purple, all popping from the verdant green clinging to craggy hills.
Mh. It was all real gorgeous.
Distracting, too, and it preoccupied her while she followed Tom along the crest of a stoney hill. The ridge was lined with trees laden heavily with red fruit, one of which she juggled idly between her hands. She didn’t know what it was called. Just knew that on the inside it had lots of tiny beads that tasted a little sour and a little sweet, and that were fun to throw into Tom’s open mouth. Or on his nose. Or into his eyes. Probably the eyes most of all.
She smirked, tossed the fruit from one hand to the other again, and when it landed in her palm, Tom got attacked.
It came out of a tree.
And it was rather large. A large, puffy scruff of sand coloured fur that hissed and spat and clung to Tom’s back with wicked claws sinking into his shoulders and tearing bloody ruts down his lower back. Tom, ever so eloquently, screamed and cursed up a storm so colourful it rivalled the variety of flowers all around. He also staggered and thrashed around, frantically trying to throw it off. Whatever it was. Though since the thing was on his back, he couldn’t get his swords— and when he tried to reach back, grab it by the neck to maybe tear it off, it bit his hand.
“Fucking shit fuck shit— get it— get it off— what the fuck.”
Sinvik leaned her head to the side.
It looked like a cat. The thing.
A big, fluffy cat.
With big teeth.
Teeth that suddenly glinted— red on white, because there was blood on them —as they headed straight at her. Seemed like the cat had grown tired of riding on Tom’s back, and decided to leap right over his head and at her.
Which was really unfortunate, because she’d stepped out of Tom’s way just a moment ago (what with how he’d been flailing about like a drunk), which’d put her right at the edge of the crest. And the hill was real steep.
It took Tom a while to find her after that. Mostly because her and the large, angry, fluffy cat had found a narrow crack in the hillside and had gone tumbling ass over paw into a damp, cool cave.
“Vik!” she heard him go. Up there, somewhere. Stomping around. “Viiik?! Where the fuck are you?”
Purrr.
Sinvik sighed and folded forward, sticking her nose and cheeks down, right into the soft fluff sprawled out on her lap. Her hands were busy around its ears and neck, scratching and scratching and scratching. Oh yeah, the fluff was heavy on her lap. Had to admit that. The thing had a lot more muscle and bone and meat under all that fur than she’d originally anticipated. And by Elaya’s ample titties, was it loud. She was surprised Tom hadn’t found her by just following the constant purring that’d started when it’d stopped trying to eat her because Cad’his scratches were a lot better than having said Cad’his stab it with her itsy bitsy sword.
Or maybe Tom did end up trailing the constant Rrrr-rrrr-rrrrr-rrrrr , which led him to the hole above her, his silhouette blotting out the sun spilling in around him.
Said hole was up real high. So high, she’d not even tried climbing it, and picking her way through the dark cave had sounded like a whole lot of effort. Especially since she’d banged up her leg on the way down, and unlike other present company, she didn’t heal in a snap. Three snaps, maybe.
“Vik…” he said up there, voice edged with relief. Same relief that seemed to exhale soundly from his soul, right before it was replaced by a jitter of confusion.
And a stab of jealousy.
Almost like he had a bit of an issue with how she was scratching a purr out of that cat-thing. Maybe even being horribly offended by how she’d taken a liking to yet another thing with big teeth. One that wasn’t him.
Yeah, Tom didn’t like that one little bit.
He sneered at it and sized up the stupid pincushion of claws and tiny sharp teeth and hated it in about two seconds.
“That little shit was trying to tear my back off,” Tom said pointedly, folding his arms. “Y’know, in case you missed that…” and he turned around some to show off a very bloody back that – ow – okay, it hurt.
“ I did something like that to you once,” Vik replied sweetly, scratching the lynx behind an ear.
Tom scoffed. “Pff, no, give me a break – you were obviously aiming for my throat, not my back—and besides, that’s really beside the point right now.”
“Don’t have any forgiveness in your heart?” she teased softly.
Oh come on . “ You’re here, aren’t you?” he said just as sweetly, offering a little smile.
She hummed and shrugged and that stupid ugly cat purred even louder like she’d found some favorite spot to scratch.
Tom sputtered as he started climbing his way down into that tiny fucking crevice they’d managed to find their way into, which was definitely tight on his shoulders on the way in. And he threw another look over one of those (very broad, thanks for noticing) shoulders, saw her petting the cat (no, lynx), and snapped, “Will you stop that?”
“Somebody’s jealous,” she whispered in one of the lynx’s tufted ears.
“I’m so much bigger. My everything is bigger. Incomparable, really,” Tom practically blurted, very pointedly landing in front of her to stand over the two of them and put his hands on his hips.
“Mh.”
“Claws are way bigger…”
“Mh…”
“And don’t get me started on the muscles – or the teeth.”
She sighed.
“See, you’re swooning just thinking about them, babe.”
That got a snort out of her, anyway.
So he quickly added, “And my fur – hair – fur, all of it, it’s a lot softer than that wiry old thing.”
“You haven’t even touched her fur.”
“Yeah, because prissy little pussy bit the hell out of my hand when I tried. But hey, I still felt it when it was trying to get a look at my fucking spine—wait, her? ”
“Her.”
“It’s a her.”
“Tom, jealousy doesn’t make you deaf.”
“Of course it’s a her…” he muttered as he abruptly scooped the both of them up in his arms, halfway to make a point that he could. The lynx started, its purring stuttering for a second and pausing in alarm. “Fine, I’ll bring it with us so I can eat it.”
“You’re not eating the fucking cat.”
“Why not? It wanted to eat me .”
“She only didn’t know you’re a werewolf and those aren’t for eating. Isn’t that right?” she asked the cat, very pointedly, giving it a scratch along the back of its head.
Tom actually growled then, deep and loud and ripping up his throat, and the lynx recoiled in terror in Vik’s arms, ears all flat, and looked ready to take a wild swipe at his face. At least until Vik swiped for it and flicked him right on the bridge of his nose.
Which got him to flinch back with an, “Ow!”
“Rude. Don’t be a brute.”
“I swear to Athena I’ll just eat both of you right now, you like that better? That way you’ll still have your cat.” He pointedly opened his mouth to make a show that he’d gladly shove the both of them down his throat—
He stubbed his toe, hard , on a big old rock because he was paying fuck-all attention to where he was going, and his sandals didn’t really do much for shielding his toes.
Then that set him cursing and sputtering and growling and having to actually look where he walked instead of staring at Vik the whole freaking time.
Which wasn’t nearly as fun. Even if she was just relentlessly teasing him with that purring ball of wiry, staticky (it was so not nearly as pretty as his) fur… And, you know, now also giggling because he’d nearly planted himself face-first in the dirt.
That made him almost wish he had’ve, since he would’ve landed right on top of her and her newfound precious bundle of needles and maybe given them both a good flattening they kinda deserved.
Full here on bsky. Anyway it's the end of the year so remember never give up never kys you can get that old man pregnant and in your cult you just gotta work it, baby. Rael made my t5t Singed/Viktor agenda real. That was a typo but it feel right so it remains.
