#tumblr ask fic

[theirwolfbicanthrope]

"Promise me just one thing..." - Varek/Sonja (Skinwalkers)

(canonical character deaths mentioned, mild canon typical body horror; read on ao3)

Grenier’s companion is dead. The young Humanist male - practically still a kid - is dead. Their guardian is dead. Even the girl - Varek’s own fucking niece - is dead. 

But the bodies Sonja wanted to see are nowhere to be found. Tracks leading off make it obvious that this whole plan - one she didn’t like to begin with - was a failure. Just like she’d known, deep in her gut, it would be. It would be too neat, too easy, too perfect.

“Looks like you’ll have to get your hands dirty,” she snarls, body twitching as the blood moon rises higher. The change will be on her soon.

Varek comes up beside her, his own gaze staring into the distance where hers is fixed. Some kind of mill or warehouse. Something old and abandoned. Lots of shadows and little light, perfect place for hiding and evading predators. He sighs - but with the change so near it sounds more like a low growl.

“We’ll get it done, Sonja. I’ll get this done.”

Bones begin to snap and crack inside her. The shift is here. The final night before everything is saved forever - or forever lost. Sonja looks to her lover as her body begins to twist and contort with a familiar euphoric pain. “Promise me one thing, Caleb.”

He flinches at the malice in her guttural tone when she spits out his name. He won’t look at her. Whether out of guilt or pride, it doesn’t matter. He’s a bastard for it all the same. An echoing crack sounds out and forces his head back as his fangs grow and protrude further from his gums, forcing his mouth open. “What?” he snaps before he’s rendered unable to speak.

“Don’t hesitate.”

A roar is her answer as the change takes over them both, Zo right behind. The three of them - four, it should be four - fall to the ground as their bodies shudder and writhe and embrace the shift, revel in the beast that takes over, fills them out, builds them up. 

There is a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that says this is the last time.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Tom Hiddleston as himself: "Oh come on love, it will be fun! I promise. You trust me, don't you?" "Of course I trust you Tom, I'm just nervous."

“Of course I trust you Tom, I’m just nervous.”

He bent and touched his forehead to yours. The gesture was so sweet and intimate and so him, your heart sqeezed. “A red carpet walk can be rather intimidating, love, but I won’t leave your side, I swear it.”

In the end, you pour yourself into the gown Tom was sent by one of London’s top designers (there were more than a few perks of dating someone famous), and walk the red carpet with him. Climbing out of the car to the flashbang bulbs of the cameramen is a new experience and one you’re unsure you want to repeat, but, true to his word, Tom holds your hand for the whole half hour you’re both outside. You try not to fangirl over other actors here for the awards, but do end up gazing a bit too long at Amy Adams, who sends you a sweet smile.

Once you and Tom are safely inside the building, he pulls you into a hug. “You did famously, darling.”

You smile, kiss him. “Thanks. Now how about a strong drink...?”

Tagging: @vodka-and-some-sass @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @polireader @amarisyousei @jessiejunebug @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @xxloki81xx @arch-venus25 @nonsensicalobsessions