Guess what! Today’s my birthday, but you guys get the present. 🥳
The beginning of chapter 6 is now available to my KoFi subscribers! There’s even a surprise cameo in it! 🤭 The preview is 17k words; I have another 10k written but not coded, as they’re scenes that happen later in the chapter.
My goal is to have chapter 6 ready for early access first week of May, with a public release goal of end of May. Fingers crossed! 🤞🏻
If you’re a current member, thank you so much for your support! ❤️ I updated the existing beta site—just use your usual access key. If you’d like to read the preview, subscribe to my KoFi here. You must be a Choral member to receive early access.
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Chapter 6 Preview
*Spoilers for those who have yet to read the previous chapters!*
Click here to start reading "What Lingers Still Burns"
Chapter 6 to be posted on Sunday, June 28th.
The sight before him refuses to make sense.
As the seconds pass, his world narrows to the figures before him, and every step that led to this moment flashes through his mind. It is difficult to say exactly where things went so wrong, but somewhere along the way, his decisions brought an Upper Moon straight to his family home.
He can do nothing but watch as death incarnate rests his fingertips against his brother’s forehead.
Staring up through his long lashes, Akaza studies Kyojuro silently. His face is a mask of calm neutrality, though his golden eyes betray the depth of his attention.
After a while of neither moving nor speaking, Akaza returns his gaze to the boy before him. His fingers travel from Senjuro’s forehead into his hair, absently twirling a single red lock between them.
“He looks like you,” the demon whispers, his voice still too loud against Kyojuro’s ears. “Your brother?”
“Get away from him.” The command leaves Kyojuro’s mouth before he is even aware of speaking. He barely recognizes the sound of his own voice, stripped raw by an anger he has never felt before.
“Why? Are you afraid I’m going to kill him?”
His hand tightens around the bowl, his knuckles turning white as the wooden spoon rattles softly against the lacquered rim.
“He has nothing to do with this.”
Blue fingers continue to comb through his brother’s hair as the demon offers no response.
How could this happen? How could a demon as powerful as an Upper Moon slip past both him and his father? That simply cannot be possible. Yet here they are. Kyojuro extends his senses throughout the house, filling Senjuro’s room from corner to corner, only to come back with nothing. His eyes have not once left Upper Moon Three since entering the room, yet the demon’s aura is eerily absent.
There is no bloodlust. No malicious intent. No crushing presence threatening to suffocate him.
hi, it’s me again, here with another small preview of my upcoming byler big bang fic:
on the same frequency
-.-. .... .- .--. - . .-. / -....
December 28, 1985
“So what about Plan B?” Lucas asks, first to break the stretch of silence after they finish eating. “Obviously I don’t wanna resort to it anymore than you guys do, but Plan A feels pretty solid now…” then he looks directly at Mike, “and you did say you wanted to be one hundred percent prepared for it just in case.”
All it took was the mere mention of Plan B for Mike to start fidgeting. “Yeah, I know what I said,” he grumbles, getting up off the floor.
“So then how’re we gonna set the trap? Like how do we get him to take the bait?”
“I don’t know.” And at this point, Mike was pacing.
Lucas and Dustin glance at each other, shrugging. It didn’t seem like either of them had any new suggestions to offer, or maybe they were waiting for Mike to throw out the first suggestion. Except Mike just kept pacing back and forth saying nothing, which was making Will even more nervous than he already was.
December 29, 1985
“Shit—sorry,” Mike whispers into his ear as he loosens his arms around him and leans away a bit, but doesn’t fully let go. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says. And then they rest their foreheads against each other, making Will’s heart race.
“It just seemed so real and I—”
“Mike!” Dustin yells from above, causing Mike to flinch and take a step back from him. “Your mom’s making chocolate chip pancakes! Get up here!”
“We’ll be right there!” Mike shouts back.
It was impossible not to feel a little disappointed when Mike flinched away from him again. But he swallows it down, forcing a smile instead and says, “Pancakes sound good.”
🎶 a song from chapter six 🎶
rating: mature
tags: alternate universe, not canon compliant, major character death, grief/mourning, ptsd, blood and injury, supernatural elements, time shenanigans, butterfly effect, thriller, angst with a happy ending
Was thinking about TOHOTS in the car today 🥰 wanted to drop by and share some love for the world you’ve created there!
This was sent so very long ago, and I’m so so sorry for that — but guess what world I was looking back on last night?
Technically, TOHOTS is still very much on hiatus as I get my life together a little, but because of that — and because I love it still so very much — I thought I’d share a rather large and unedited snippet from Chapter 6.
Anyway, thank you always for your kindness and support, @kay-elle-cee . Please take this as a token of my gratitude.
December 1975
“Where’d you even find this place anyway, Mare?” asked Lily.
She, Mary and Marlene were tightly tucked — feet pressed against the wall, knees near faces — into a small nook by the Transfiguration office, each with a neatly rolled cigarette in their hand. It was past 1 o’clock in the morning
“Potter,” replied Mary on an exhale. “I caught him coming here after Potions the other day.”
“I thought Potter didn’t smoke?” said Marlene. She was fiddling nervously with the Zippo lighter the girls had just used.
“Probs goes for a bit of a chug between classes,” answered Mary, making a lewd gesture towards Lily. She had in recent months developed on a strange sort of whim the belief that James Potter fancied her.
Lily answered in kind by raising her middle finger. Mary blew her a kiss.
“Shit. Someone’s coming,” muttered Marlene, just moments after Lily had heard the footsteps herself.
The girls put their fags out on the wall and watched in silence as McGonagall entered their frame of vision. A tall boy with his head drooping down to his shoulders followed behind her. It took Lily a moment to realise it was Sirius Black.
“You will wait here,” ordered McGonagall with a snap of venom rare even for her.
Sirius simply looked up and stared at her, his grey eyes sharp and cold.
The three girls shared a look.
“I need to organise your punishment,” she continued. “You heard the headmaster. We will do our best to deal with this discreetly but it will be a year of detentions at least.”
Sirius nodded, but his jaw was still tight, his expression like ice.
“Do not move from this spot.”
McGonagall turned on her heel and stormed into the office, leaving Sirius behind to slump against the adjacent wall.
“What do you think he did?” whispered Mary.
“Dark magic?” suggested Marlene. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen McGonagall that angry.”
“Naw,” replied Mary, moving forward slightly to get a closer look. She had always been the bravest of the three. “The Gryffindor boys don’t practice dark magic.”
Lily couldn’t help but think that comment was more than just a little pointed, so she bit her tongue, turning to face Sirius once more.
She wanted to believe Mary — and she would, just days later, when the first of the attacks occurred — but right then all she could think about was just just how terrifying Sirius looked.
Leant against that wall, he was somehow rigidly still — like a bloodhound that had sniffed out its prey — his features straight and emotionless, his eyes as wicked as the prisoners of The Prophet’s pages.
But then something caught his attention — the lingering smell of cigarette smoke, most likely — and he raised his head, inhaling deeply through his tall, aristocratic nose.
And he laughed.
It was a deep, echoing, dark bark of a laugh.
Whatever he’d done, Lily thought to herself, he certainly didn’t seem to feel guilty about it.
***
December 1980
“I have business to attend to this morning, Lily,” said Dumbledore as he and Lily reached the entryway where James was standing. “But I will return in a few hours to let you know the exact details of your new role.”
“Thank you, sir,” Lily replied, though the old man had already made it halfway back to the barn.
“Right,” said James, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Shall we get started?”
“Not before she’s had breakfast,” came another voice from behind the door, and out popped Emmeline’s head following it.
Before Lily could explain she had already eaten, the older woman had firmly guided her to the kitchen where she found Nicolas sitting next to a large pile of pastries. He had a mirror in his hand that he was staring at intently.
“Lily!” he exclaimed looking up at her with a bright smile. He had healed a lot since she had last seen him, yet some of the scars were still stubbornly scabbed across his wizened face. “Wonderful to see you here, my dear! Please help me finish some of these off. Emmeline here likes to feed the five thousand.”
Emmeline laughed, but nonetheless, brought another teeming pile of pastries to the kitchen island. James picked up a croissant off the top, smirking knowingly at the whole scenario.
“Well, I want you both to feel at home,” said Emmeline, settling a plate down in front of Lily.
“Emmie, darling,” came — to Lily’s astonishment — a voice from the mirror, “I’ve told you, he has a grapefruit at home and that’s it.”
Nearly a decade in the Wizarding world, and it was still surprising Lily — it wasn’t every day that Perenelle Flamel’s voice came out of a household object after all.
James seemed to have picked up on this shock though, as he smiled gently and added:
“This is a little invention of Sirius’. We thought it would be a good way for Nic and Perry to stay in touch.”
“Ah,” she replied, uncertain of his informality. Even she was hesitant to call the Flamels by their nicknames, and she had known them for nearly three years.
“You know Perry,” said Nicolas. “Always so keen to be back with her hydrangeas.”
“Je te l'ai dit plein de fois, c'est pas la saison des hydrangea!” replied an irritated Perenelle.
James and Lily chuckled.
“You’ve got to be nicer to Herbologists, Nicolas,” said James, taking the seat next to Lily and another pastry she didn’t recognise. “They could kill us all with just a few seeds.”
“That’s the sort of common sense I need in a husband,” said Perenelle, though turning her head Lily could see that the handsome face of the 600-year-old woman was bright and smiling in the small mirror.
“Now, Lily,” interrupted Emmeline from the cupboard. “As you’ll be spending quite some time with us, you must choose your own mug.”
Emmeline levitated about 30 mugs at Lily’s eye height. She couldn’t help but notice about half of them had a lion emblem on them in some manner or another.
“There’s a lot of Gryffindor here,” Lily remarked, giggling just slightly and taking one that had just a subtle Gryffindor crest on the base. James grinned widely as she did so.
“Mmm,” grimaced Emmeline, transporting the rest of the mugs back with an elegant swish. “Fleamont — may he rest in peace — was a wonderful man, but, Merlin, his enthusiasm for Gryffindor was a touch… much.”
James laughed — a warm, welcoming, gentle hug of a laugh — tipping his chair back with his head.
“Much is subjective, Em, don’t you think?”
“Hmmm.”
“What house were you in Emmeline?” enquired Lily. Nicolas and Perenelle had picked up a quiet conversation in French next to her.
Emmeline raised her eyebrow, a daring look.
“Slytherin, dear.”
Lily blinked. Of all the Slytherins she knew, Emmeline certainly didn’t seem like one of them.
“Oh,” was all she could reply.
James laughed again, though this time Lily didn’t find it quite so welcoming.
“Oh?” continued Emmeline, her eyebrow still raised. “Didn’t expect that? And they told me you have a Slytherin best friend, dear. I thought maybe you’d be a little different.”
“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with Slytherin,” Lily added quickly, feeling the flush rise in her cheeks.
“Well…” remarked James with a chuckle, and Emmeline simply rolled her eyes at him.
“I’m just teasing, sweetheart. Though I do wish some people,” Emmeline gave a pointed look at James, “would be a little nicer about the rival school houses. I’m hoping you might be able to help there.”
“Me? Why?” replied Lily, taking a pastry for want of something to do with her hands.
“I hear you were quite a force to be reckoned with back in the day. Standing up for all that needed it, regardless of their house, and even if they were Slytherin. Quite an anomaly unfortunately, even in my day…”
James nodded along encouragingly, and it made Lily feel quite sick.
It was true. Lily had done that. She had taken pride in doing that, in fact, for years during her schooldays. She had been blessed with a confidence that many teenagers lacked, and well, it was horrible to just sit there and watch people be teased, people be bullied, Gryffindor or not. What else was she supposed to do? It wasn’t just Sev and Mary who dealt with the cruelty of bullies.
But somewhere along the line that had all stopped. She had stopped.
She wondered when she had stopped.
“I hear this one was one of the worst offenders,” added Emmeline with the sort of sternness of a mother or beloved teacher.
Lily nodded, uncomfortable with where this was going.
Because that was true too, wasn’t it? She wondered also when James had stopped being so cruel.
Had he?
The silence of the English speakers in the room hung stagnant for just a moment before James spoke.
“She really used to rip into me, Em,” He tried to smile at Lily, but she looked away with a dash. “But I deserved it.”
Something about this comment awoke a sprinkle of untapped bravery.
“Well, yes, you did,” said Lily, and not only Emmeline, but Nicolas and Perenelle laughed at the comment. As did James, who caught her eye on the pause, though she could not read what he was trying to say.
“Ok. Fair.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I deserve that. But how about we start that tour before my head swells up so big that I can’t fit through the doorways?”
It was Lily’s turn to smile now. That had been one of her most commonly used insults for him in fourth year.
****
Linfred Farm was even more beautiful (and magical) than Lily had realised.
There were more than a dozen rooms on the property, each one decorated in the sort of cosy Englishness that she was sure had only ever truly existed in mind rather than manner: William Morris prints, paintings of rolling hills, piles and piles of mismatched toys and books and other signs of a comfortable life in the country. It was the sort of place that James could show her around with pride — and indeed he did.
She mostly just listened intently — only adding the small, insignificant comment here and there — still unsure of how their relationship was now defined after the events of the previous month.
“Emmeline has set up your room in the nursery again,” he told her, stopping by the yellow-filled child’s room where she’d stayed before. “But please feel free to change. There’s a number of rooms available.”
“Oh no. It’s fine, thank you. Here will do quite well.”
How strangely formal they were being. If only Mary could see her now…
“Right, well, eerrr. That’s it.” He pulled a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I suppose I should get you back to Nicolas. He usually enjoys some television at this time of morning.”
She had watched an episode of Play Your Cards Right with Nicolas last time she was there, but the idea of the very old man tucked up before a television set was still a strange idea to her.
“I never had Nicolas down for such a telly fan,” she remarked.
“You’re not?” enquired James. He beckoned for her to go down the stairs before him.
“Oh, um, I guess not. I don’t own one.”
She didn’t imagine it would go down well with Severus if they did. Not that she blamed him. Muggle items were a contentious point for very understandable reasons.
Still, her mother had loved her films so much when she was a child.
“I love it!” said James, with the enthusiasm of a small infant. “Well, I love cinema. Dorcas has really got me into it. Those moving pictures — what a feat of transfiguration. Of course, it’s not transfiguration but— well, it’s fantastic, isn’t it?“
“You’ve been to the pictures?”
Lily had a hard time seeing a pure blood like James Potter in such a Muggle place.
“Well— no. But I would like to some day.”
It was almost endearing the way he spoke so passionately of something that Lily had known her whole life. She wondered if it explained her mother’s similar affection for the art form.
“My favourites are,” he opened the door to the kitchen for her, “Mädchen in Uniform” (Lily blinked) “and… The Sound of Music.”
“How are you watching these without going to the cinema?” she asked. British terrestrial television would take a few decades to get to that level just yet.
“Magic,” he winked, and she tried her hardest not to blush, turning instead to Nicolas who was still sitting in the centre of the kitchen.
“Finished?” he enquired, moving very slowly — and with an obvious amount of pain — to get to his feet. “Let’s start your work then, shall we young lady?”
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In Relics 3 Chapter 6, you and your old pal Dominique have to air-drop onto the Japanese island of Hokkaido, in a race against time to intercept the handover of the final Archive from the Japanese authorities who currently possess it to their Nazi allies. Luckily, Uncle Sam is on your side, and they ain’t sending you into this deadly mission alone. Here are the companions you will be taking along with you on this suicide run:
Sergeant Joel Kaminski: A loud, angry, violent bully from the US Marines, who really doesn’t like not getting his way. Expect him to cause you all kinds of problems en route!
Private First Class Seb Calloway: Kaminski’s laid-back compadre, a man who loves, in his own words, “a beer at the end of the day, a good hand of poker and accommodatin' ladies with big ole titties.” He seems unruffled by anything. But are there hidden depths behind his easygoing exterior?
First Lieutenant Callum O’Brien: A jumpy, anxious pilot whose nerves have been shredded by one too many dangerous bombing runs, he’s the guy responsible for getting you safely to your drop-zone.
Second Lieutenant Clay Hendricks: The co-pilot. This is his first flight out of pilot training, and he’s riddled with doubts about his abilities.
Lieutenant Jalen Johnson: The navigator. An Ivy League college student who volunteered, hoping that his expertise in Japanese language and culture might be useful, but who instead got sent to pilot training. He didn’t take to flying, so he washed out and retrained as a navigator instead. [Winner of the Million Word Tumblr name a character competition!]
Corporal Harry Docherty: The top turret gunner on the bomber that will fly you into Japan. An experienced fighter, and a loud, proud Boston Irishman.
Beautiful moodboard created by @crownofstardustandbone @therollingstonys thank you so much! 💖
********
Steve smiled, leaning in for one final kiss before escaping into the hallway, where he nearly ran smack into Peter as he came barrelling out of his room, a small, flat disc in his hand.
“Oh, sorry, Papa!” Peter said, barely breaking stride. “Uncle Sam said we’ve still got twenty minutes till the food’s ready, so Pietro and I are gonna go play frisbee golf.”
“As long as you wash your hands when you come back inside!” Steve called after him, earning a breathless, “Uh huh!” in return.
Chuckling, Steve rounded the corner into the massive kitchen, immediately stepping back as Natasha emerged from the depths of one of the ovens, a steaming pumpkin pie in her mitted hands.
“Oh, now that smells amazing,” Steve said as Natasha set the pie down on a cooling rack, right next to another identical pie.
“You’d better believe it,” Natasha said, winking as Wanda set a third pie down onto the rack. “I had to kick your kid out of here a few minutes ago, though. He kept begging to sample everything, all while eating an entire party-sized bag of Doritos.”
“Yeah,” Sam piped up from the opposite end of the counter. “Damn sneaky kid! I caught him trying to swipe one of these drumsticks right off the platter!”
“He actually did make off with one of the rolls,” said Wanda, pointing to the large baking sheet next to the pies. “But at least he asked me if he could have it first.”
“It was the eyes, right?” Natasha asked. “Those irresistible puppy dog eyes?”
“Yes,” Wanda said with a sigh. “And now I think Pietro’s starting to learn them too.”
“Yep. That’s my милая ошибка,” Natasha said, tossing Steve a smirk. “Good thing your kid is cute, Rogers.”
“Well, I’d personally take Peter’s enthusiastic appetite as a compliment,” said Steve. “Now, where do you need me?”
Sam jerked his head to the two huge pots of potatoes cooling on the stove. “Soon as those are mashed and the gravy’s done simmering, we should be ready.”
“Sounds great.” Picking up the hand mixer, Steve got to work, mashing the perfectly boiled and seasoned potatoes while his teammates bantered back and forth behind him. By the time he was done and everything had been brought out to the table, set perfectly by Bucky and Bruce, Steve’s cheeks were sore from smiling.
And then, as he took his seat at that table, flanked by his husband and son as he looked out onto the rest of his amazing teammates, Steve raised his bottle of his favourite Irish beer, waiting while they all took hold of their own various beverages.
“At the risk of being a bit too sentimental for this crowd, or delaying the inevitable chow-down that I’m about to witness,” Steve began. “I just wanted to let all of you know how grateful I am for each and every one of you. Our jobs are hard, and I know that I ask a lot of you every time we go out into the field. But I also know that there’s no way this team would be the same without any of you. Thanks to your hard work and dedication, we are a well-oiled machine, ready to take on whatever the world throws at us next.” He shot a quick glance at Tony, smiling at him over his coffee mug. “To the Avengers, our team. And, like the many enemies that we’ve vanquished, may we leave this dinner table crying for mercy by the time we're done here.”
“All right!” exclaimed Sam as he clinked his beer bottle first against Bucky’s, then against Peter’s can of Dr Pepper. “Now, do we finally have permission to eat, Captain? ‘Cause if I have to sit here and listen to these guys’ growling stomachs for too much longer, I’m gonna—”
“Okay, I’m just gonna pull rank here and go with yes,” James said from his seat next to Bruce. “Seeing as how Spider Boy and Flash Boy over there are just about ready to vibrate out of their seats.”
********
A bit of fluff before we get to the nitty-gritty 😉
The full chapter will post on Monday, October 5th 😊
Fifty Year’s Worth - Chapter 6 (new addition - preview)
To all you wonderful people still following this story. I have just posted Chapter 6 on AO3 and I’m really excited (and nervous) about it.
My special thanks to my beta and banner maker @sunsetsrmydreams . We got there in the end my friend.
This chapter is the second (and last) new addition to the original story I wrote for MoreStories2SaveLives - Summer 2018 Collection. I hope you will enjoy reading it.
(I’ll post the rest of the already completed chapters over the next two weeks).
Here’s a little preview;
Tomorrow will be a bright new day and the start of my future, learning all I can from my father in his bakery. Hopefully my career choice will be good enough for Katniss to want to spend the rest of her life with me.
This would be beyond anything I could ever wished and prayed for and I don’t hesitate to share these thoughts with Finnick, but he is quick to bring me back to reality, reminding me to slow things down.
“Take it easy there Peeta. You need to go slow with this girl. From what I can glean, Katniss has been through some rough times. Sure, she’s your soulmate, but the thought of romance, marriage, kids, may be too much for her right now. I’d hate to see you get your hopes up if all she wants from you is nothing more than friendship.”
I know Finnick means well and is trying to protect me from getting my heart crushed, but he needn’t worry.
“I remember everything you taught me Finnick, and I promise to take things slow with Katniss. If friendship is all she wants from me then I will be happy to be her best friend.”
Finnick places his hands on my shoulders and there’s a look of sincerity in his sea-green eyes. “You are like a brother to me, but you need to be prepared for disappointment. There’s always a possibility your girl could reject you…it could happen Peeta.”
