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Tony | Writing Blog

[starplatinumgold]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Martyn took gasping breaths, unable to get enough air in his lungs, relishing in the sensation of the air entering and leaving him, with no blockage preventing him from doing so. In no time, his breathing was back to normal, the only thing remaining of his panic being his racing heart, shaking hands, and the memory of blood coating his body.

This was a first, Martyn noted, as he properly began to recall his dream. He was never usually able to remember, the terrors fleeing as quickly as they came, preferring to curse him with the slightest glimpses rather than the full thing.

But now, Martyn could so clearly remember the cold. Could remember how it felt to die, how it felt as he watched everything crumble around him.

Martyn dreams of winter.

Written for @treebarkweek Day 1: Frost

(Read on Ao3!)

[starplatinumgold]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Scar panted where he stood, paused not ten feet in front of Grian, and Grian tried to will his body to move. He had his sword, he had his gear. For all intents and purposes, he was far better off than Scar was; it wouldn’t be hard at all to overpower him. Against the rules as it might be, he could send Scar plummeting back down the ravine, painting the rocks below red once more and permanently freeing himself from his control.

His fingers twitched on his blade. It would be so easy.

Scar turns red and Grian doesn't know what to think.

(Read on Ao3!)

[starplatinumgold]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“I probably just didn’t get enough sleep.” That wasn’t a lie, technically. He had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, hands clenched into fists, while the voices of people he didn’t recognize called out to him.

Just the thought made him shiver, staring at his hands as he hunched over slightly. “Really. That’s all.”

Sal didn’t have to see Larry’s face to know he wasn’t convinced by that.

Sal has a nightmare. Larry tries to help.

Written for Salloween Day 1: Strange Nightmares

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[starplatinumgold]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“See, this is why you should listen to me. I’m very wise, you’re making my wisdom go to waste.”

Sheila scowled, putting the car in reverse a little more violently than was probably necessary. “If you don’t shut the fuck up about your ‘wisdom’, I’m crashing this car.”

From the passenger seat, Trish looked understandably alarmed. “Please don’t. Murolo won’t appreciate you crashing his van.”

“Well, then tell Mista to shut it.”

Mista huffed, crossing his arms, and Narancia snickered at his side. “I’m just saying. Nara and I were smart enough to pass on the haunted house, and if you haven’t noticed, we’re the only ones not cowering in fear right now.”

In which a haunted house and a porch scare the shit out of a group of teenagers.

(Read on Ao3!)