Harry Potter Au Where James Is Still Alive, But Lily Still Sacrificed Herself.

What about a stalker Clark au? Like, I've already read a lot of stalker Bruce and now I want something a bit different (? I think it would be interesting (maybe I'll write more about this later).

The handful of times that Viktor was allowed over the Piltover-Zaun boarder was limited to the amount of meetings Silco was allowed to infringe on. And, because Viktor flashed the sad eyes that made Vander’s resolve fall faster than the rain did every morning, they stayed for two days every trip. Enough time for Viktor to recuperate, and for Silco to overanalyze the words of Piltover’s leaders.

Viktor had a little desire to sit and watch grown ups debate. He had experienced enough of that for a lifetime. So, when Silco left him alone in their Piltie funded hotel apartment, he would slip out and walk around the nearby streets. With his journal under one arm, his crutch under the other, and a pencil clenched between his teeth.

Unfortunately, he was quickly interrupted each time.

“Vik!” The loud, obnoxious voice of the boy with the big eyes.

Viktor paused, fingers just barely touching the wood and lead between his crooked teeth. He turned his head just enough to catch the short bundle of dark blues and browns barreling down the paved sidewalk. Right towards him.

Jayce had knocked them both into the street on Viktor’s third trip into Piltover, and had nearly killed them both in a carriage accident. And, after a plethora of apologies Viktor hadn’t taken seriously, the boy had taken one nosey glance at Viktor’s neat scrawl open in a puddle, and had decidedly begun stalking Viktor from then on.

It was almost impressive; how quickly Jayce seemed to sense his presence in the city.

“Vik!” his name was called out once more, even closer than before. And, refocusing, Viktor realized that Jayce was already linking their arms.

The top of his head barely reached Viktor’s shoulder. Short dark hair had grown into a plouf that fell into light hazel eyes. He was fuller than Viktor was, healthy and fed heartily. But, even with the hunch and the cane, he towered over his unwanted companion. Jayce seemed to have no problem with it, happily dragging Viktor in a different direction.

He dug his heals in, digging his cane even further down on the frayed boot around Jayce’s foot. He chose to ignore the yelp received.

“What did we talk about last time?”

Jayce perked up like a flower under light, “We talked about science and magic, and you agreed to be my partner.”

Viktor squinted, “And….”

Jayce didn’t take the hint, talking gibberish in a language he couldn’t quite comprehend. It was pretty. Even if he found Jayce’s undeterred excitement as mildly irritating as he did interesting. So, rather than put in more useless effort into making his garden gnome of a friend put some value into personal space, he relented with a heavy sigh. He wondered if Jayce knew what he was doing, because he only seemed to grin wider.

Viktor stopped them again, thin arm wrapping around one of the steel bars on a nearby fence. He hugged it tighter when Jayce pouted and attempted to pull him along like a mule would a plow. Viktor sneered mischievously.

He used the element of surprise to drag Jayce back the way they’d come, “Come, Jayce. If you behave, perhaps I will order your tea for you.” He didn’t miss the way babyish cheeks tinted red. “Then you will not spill it all over the ground.”

Petulantly, Jayce stomped along at Viktor’s side, “It’s not by fault the food stands are so tall!”

Viktor hid his laugh behind the pencil between his teeth.

*

“Viktor!” Powder nearly knocked him over on her way through the door. She was out of breath, and he almost panicked that something bad hand happens, if it weren’t for the terribly malevolent smirk she possessed. She composed herself just barely, clearing her throat. “You have a visitor on the way.”

He fought the urge to hit her shin with his cane as his beating heart began to quicken up again.

“Who?”

She shrugged, feigning a comic amount of disinterest in her meander over to the stools around Vander’s bar. Nevertheless, he immediately caught sight of who, at the same moment the door opened again and nearly knocked him in the side of the head.

“Vik!” Muscular arms had locked themselves around his middle. Very muscular arms. Very, very large hands that took up most of the slender expanse of Viktor’s torso.

Jayce was broad. His eyes were a little darker than he remember, but his smile was still big and charming with the little gap between his teeth. But, most of all, he was so goddamn tall. Viktor had to look up at him, and he began to count in his mind just how long it had been since they’d last seen each other. Unsurprisingly, Jayce seemed to still be capable of reading his mind.

He stepped back enough to look Viktor in the eye, but not enough to fully drag his hands off of Viktor’s body.

“I know you said to never follow you past the boarder,” he laughed nervously under Viktor’s scrutiny. “But, it’s been three years, Vik! I missed you too much, and I thought you might be less mad if I had help.” At Viktor’s quirked eyebrow, Jayce overly energized gaze flickered briefly towards his blue-haired sister. He forcefully ignored the feeling of eyes on the back of his head.

“I sent letters,” he lamely replied. Guilt filled in the gaps between the frightening amount of relief that flooded his senses at the presence of his favorite person. Between working for Silco and Vander and tutoring four teenagers, time had been swept out from under him. Jayce laughed, not buying the words anymore than Viktor himself did.

“As if that would satiate me,” Jayce laughed, pressing their cheeks together. Viktor sighed, relenting to the touch that also seemed to have not decreased with age.

He made a defiant guffaw in response, “You always were very demanding.”

Jayce laughed, and it was both a sound that caused Viktor’s heart to flutter, and made his cheeks burn. It startled him intensely. Especially when warms hands tightened around him.

“I might surprise you yet.”

The gasp he let out was a telltale sign that he understood. He gawked up at Jayce’s face, star struck at the way Jayce bent over him just slightly to speak privately. Although, it was still beyond improper of them to be so inexplicably close in broad daylight.

He ran his thumb under the gentle shadows underneath Jayce’s eye, admiring the softness of his skin.

“Would you like a drink?”

Jayce’s cheeks turned violet, “My treat.”

thank you @stellophile <3

asks are open!

new thoughts for this post

i really want to do an alternating chapter fic.

i’ve already started said fic here.

and it starts with james escaping with harry, and kickstarting an au where harry grows up with his father while voldemort survives halloween night.

BUT

imagine if the even numbered chapters were an au where lily survives. she doesn’t flee upstairs, she RUNS. she takes her son and she doesn’t look back. she thinks james is behind her, but eventually realizes that it was peter chasing her.

and, basically, at the end, the au’s connect in some way. in as close to a happy ending as possible (😬). i don’t want to spoil everything i have planned so far. but i’m so excited lolol.

just— two alternative universes where both parents are single handedly trying to raise their son in a failed world. trying to stay alive when every corner they turn could be the end.

i love them :,) tragically

James knotted the rope as tight as he could. The fraying fibers cut into Peter’s shoulders like twine making a hay bale bulge, but he couldn’t help the urge to check that Harry was still asleep upstairs.

His eye twitched the longer it was trained on Peter’s pale, sweaty face. And his fists clenched tightly around the wands in each hand. He didn’t miss the way grey eyes flickered down to ebony wood. He was scared, James realized with a bit of a start. He was shaking in the chair like a cornered animal.

His sandy hair was choppy, like someone had taken shears to it as a punishment. His face was breaking out, splotches of red like hives throughout his skin. His teeth were yellowing, and his nails were caked in dirt and overgrown.

He began to cry, and James’ curiosity quickly changed to fury.

“What are you weeping about?” he demanded, watching his volume. Peter wailed, only stopping when he bowed his head at James’ pointed wand at his nose.

“I’m sorry!” he stammered through each syllable.

James thought of Snape and Regulus answering vaguely whenever he asked about Peter. Saying he was serving Voldemort from one manor to the next. Staying hidden for the sake of keeping Sirius locked away. He briefly wondered if they’d held back more information to spare him the feeing he had in that moment.

Lily’s face appeared in front of him, the walls of their old home like blurry shadows behind her. He didn’t hear anything when her mouth moved, but he recognized the terror in her eyes. The tears that had fallen as she’d said goodbye.

“How could you do it?” he asked, hollow to Peter’s wide, fretful eyes.

“He made me,” Peter pleaded. The fingers of his left hand wriggled. “He made me vow to serve him until my death.” He shivered, as if the memory he’d conjured up made him weary. James felt like he was back in front of the television. “An unbreakable vow.”

James felt his heart break. It caught him off guard, and he sought to figure how it could have splintered even more. Instead, he stuffed a cloth napkin in Peter’s flapping mouth.

“I hadn’t asked you to do so much,” he waved his wand and watched as thin strings of silvery magic wrapped around Peter like cords of wire. He looked his betrayer in the eye, “Funny how you’ve made everything worse for yourself just on your own.”

He heard light taps above them, signaling his son’s rise.

the “fic” mentioned in the tags

has anyone written a merlin au where arthur finds out balinor is merlin’s father, and that’s how he learns of merlin’s magic?

and i mean only arthur knows. merlin and balinor don’t have a clue.

like balinor starts to get through to arthur, telling him how he can still fix the mistakes that have been made. to do so he shares that he had to leave the love of his life in order to protect her and their son. he had to shield them from the dangers that the anti-magic propaganda had created for him. on the run from hunters who either felt entitled to use his power, or set him ablaze in cold blood.

he describes a town much like the one merlin brought him to once. the woman he speaks of falling in love with someone so similar to merlin’s mother that he sees it.

he notices how merlin and balinor laugh the same, ponder with furrowed brows the same, and how they prefer to eat with their hands instead of utensils.

he connects the dots with a flurry of nightmares. he realizes that merlin has magic in his blood and he’s terrified of what might happen if the truth gets out.

and when balinor dies, he yells in horror. not just because an innocent man was dead, but because it doomed merlin unfathomably. the one man he wouldn’t be able to hold back his own tears for.

and he couldn’t stand to break merlin’s heart with the news. so, when he eventually learns of merlin’s magic, he understands a little more what it takes to make someone lie for love.

cause if they have, let me know 🙏

edit: it seems i may write it myself lol

LINK IS HERE

tags for those of you that wanted a fic:

@missconchshell @lalluviadeanoche @assorted-fans @caraspud @neil-jortson @woefulstar @backseat-serenade-me @stitch-me-not @bicanthropus @evedaser @koffeinkaos @thetallwinchester @thebookgremlin00 @geronimooo @sweet-thoughtsof-insanity @smolavidreader @achaoticreaderslife @wolfeyedwitch @lazuliheightslep @justaz @sammythetoaster @pino-san13 @kidnappedbythefey @pastelcheckereddreams @arthursbubblebutt @merthurotica @captain-ozone @lizarin @i-have-passed-through-fire

there are so many of you!!! if i missed anyone, i’m sorry 😭

has anyone written a merlin au where arthur finds out balinor is merlin’s father, and that’s how he learns of merlin’s magic?

and i mean only arthur knows. merlin and balinor don’t have a clue.

like balinor starts to get through to arthur, telling him how he can still fix the mistakes that have been made. to do so he shares that he had to leave the love of his life in order to protect her and their son. he had to shield them from the dangers that the anti-magic propaganda had created for him. on the run from hunters who either felt entitled to use his power, or set him ablaze in cold blood.

he describes a town much like the one merlin brought him to once. the woman he speaks of falling in love with someone so similar to merlin’s mother that he sees it.

he notices how merlin and balinor laugh the same, ponder with furrowed brows the same, and how they prefer to eat with their hands instead of utensils.

he connects the dots with a flurry of nightmares. he realizes that merlin has magic in his blood and he’s terrified of what might happen if the truth gets out.

and when balinor dies, he yells in horror. not just because an innocent man was dead, but because it doomed merlin unfathomably. the one man he wouldn’t be able to hold back his own tears for.

and he couldn’t stand to break merlin’s heart with the news. so, when he eventually learns of merlin’s magic, he understands a little more what it takes to make someone lie for love.

cause if they have, let me know 🙏

edit: it seems i may write it myself lol

now that i’ve acclimated back into my fandoms, i’ve officially dusted off my discord as well!! (lol)

by which i mean i made an entirely new one.

if anyone has any fun little servers to recommend, or if anyone is interested enough in my stuff to talk about what atrocities i’ve already created, add me or let me know please!! i’ve decided to give being social a try 😔 instead of lurking in the shadows and dropping random seeds.

either way, here’s my discord >:) if you see this and you’re waiting for me to update one of my fics, i swear i’m not procrastinating 😀

i’ll be playing update roulette

link to chapter one

jayvik au where jayce keeps getting sent back in time to fix what happens to viktor instead of killing him. (mage viktor met kid jayce, why couldn’t jayce just go back?? (and maybe i CAN think of a couple reasons why not, but i’m ignoring them))

so over and over again (similarly to ekko preventing jinx from pulling that pin) jayce is brought back to the day of the explosion in the councilors room.

it gets worse before it gets better. either jayce dies in the explosion because mel couldn’t get to him, or viktor gets upset with him because he abruptly cancels the meeting to bring peace to zaun and viktor just ends up growing more distant from him, or viktor dies anyway because he was getting sicker by the day before the explosion killed him, or viktor gets addicted to shimmer and bad things happen between that and the hexcore all over again (this specific outcome nearly makes jayce go insane, because he had been SO close before it all went to shit), or (most common) NOTHING he says will make viktor stop from leaving after using the hexcore to save him.

he. just. keeps. walking. out.

jayce can’t figure out why, but keeps trying. it’s incredibly debilitating watching your soulmate die dozens of times. but he keeps going, getting more and more desperate each time he wakes up to a new dying viktor.

it might be easier to have been brought back farther. before viktor’s collapse, before sky dies, before viktor was already fused with arcane and shimmer. before he’d made the mistake of choosing fame over his purpose. basically, before viktor started to realize that he was all alone. but who said changing fate was supposed to be easy?

what it comes down to is an au where jayce has to trial and error his way into getting the life back to viktor’s very destroyed soul in…like…three days. and he has to learn that he c— sorry i can’t say what the lesson would be! because that would be spoiling it!! you silly goose!!!

it’s basically a love story :D

bonus: (meljayvik bonus: because we know i love mel too much not to include her) she senses something going on through her empath powers. and at some point she’s unintentionally being dragged into it. power of teamwork to save their doomed dying partner!

part 2 of my moses!viktor au - part 1 here

Ideas for a title: "Bitter Water Made Sweet" or "She Named Him Viktor" Which are just a couple of my favorite lines from Exodus (I have a lot though, so these probably won't be the only contenders) Thoughts and opinions are appreciated. I think I’ve officially leaned into meljayvik (as seen quite obviously in this segment), and I’m quite content about it.

Mel’s hands were soft and warm. The caverns of her palms lined up with his own, and her nails dug into the back of his hand every time his right knee faltered and caused him to sway away from her.

They watched each other through the corners of their eyes, catching themselves at similar times and fastening their gazes onto the lanterns and murals along the passing streets instead. Viktor had pretended to find a particular window very interesting, not noticing the woman behind it sensually waving her crooked fingers at him until Mel was pulling him along a little more hurriedly. He slowed them down when she had gotten a little too overzealous, and his cane had begun to drag behind more than it assisted his mobility. She made a slight huff out of her nose, but politely and gracefully stepped to his own slow pace.

He eyed her again, admiring the way her hair curved around her back, the shiny tendrils like a veil as the strands billowed behind her by the breeze. Her eyes shun green again under the warm glow of the lanterns, and her lips were red instead of the black they had seemed by the stream. He felt has jaw slacken as he admired the color that had returned to her aura.

“It is impolite to ogle, Viktor.”

“I am not ogling,” he ripped his line of sight away, instead pointing a glare at half-erased hopscotch markings in the path coming up beside them. What was left of the yellow chalk was almost orange, saturated from the runoff water dripping from the gutters above it. She did not respond to his petty reply, so he changed the subject. "Where are we going again?" She hadn't told him in the first place, but he felt the urge to pretend that he had a say in their exhibition. He caught the corners of her plump lips twitch up before she bore a more neutral expression. He squinted as his eyes lingered on the changes.

"We had not thought it wise to spring this onto you all at once." She did not give him any assurance before pulling him down a side street.

He dug the heel of his good leg into the cobbled road, causing them to halt. "In case you did not notice, I seem to have missed the memo on bringing my minecart for you to push me around in!" His sarcasm filled the air between them as he heaved a deep breath and she finally looked at him with the clarity of a dirty coin run through fresh water. He glared at her wide, dolesome eyes, sighing when her grip loosened and her fingers linked with his own in a more intimate, comforting manner.

"I'm sorry, Viktor," she drew closer to him, her hip inches from brushing against his own. Her shawl was extremely soft when his wrist rubbed against it. It was warm, even with the strong wind blowing against them. While being so close, he realized that she was unnaturally warm, like a personified flame. Small, but fervent enough to make you extract your hand immediately in fear of being scorched.

She paced herself better as she led him along in the direction of a lonesome bar.

It was one of the only dwellings that still had its lights on so late at night. Late enough for the mine and street vendor workers to get off of a shift and still pretend that they had a life. It was bigger than The Last Drop, but it was not better. On the outside, the grout between crooked and graffitied bricks was cracked like a double-paned window, there were shattered lanterns on either side of the door, and the sign was held at a crooked angle by a single chain on the right side. The name was indistinguishable from the grime covering it. Viktor considered falling down like a sack of potatoes into the mud and excrement from animals pulling carriages, if only to prevent their future murders. Less by the inhabitants of such a building, and more so by the indescribable alcohol sold.

Inside was not much better. While Vander kept his bar swept and lit, this one was littered with coal dust and heavy shadows. Each tiny table had a dying, flickering candle. While it could have set a romantic mood, the muscled women in the corner throwing punches, the bartender sending a empty bottle flying at a singing man attempting to climb the counter, and the five or six knives that laid on tables of card players, caused all image of such to die.

Mel did not flinch when more than one pair of eyes landed on them, but she did step in front of him as she continued to the darkest corner. Her grip tightened, nearly strangling his hand's circulation. She tossed warning glances with her chin up, and Viktor watched her with amazement as she made the atmosphere return to normal. No one said a word to them.

"How did you do that?" he asked as they sat down. He very briefly felt embarrassed when she made it a point to help him sit comfortably in the booth, not letting go of him until he was surely planted.

"Do what?" she asked, beguile. As she flowed into the seat opposite of him, her smirk returned. She sat straight as an arrow, but he could tell that it was out of habit and not in a tense manner. She seemed relaxed, never more on edge as she had been when daring the other patrons to interrupt her. Even Vander had to do more than look at his clientage to get them to knock it off. And he'd witnessed Vander punch someone through a window on more than one occasion. Which made him wonder….

"Can you move things with your..." he searched for a word to describe what he had caught her doing just barely an hour beforehand. He made vague swishing motions with his fingers, attempting to mimic what she had done with the golden sparks. She giggled into her closed fingers, eyes flickering to something on Viktor's left. He smiled marginally, following her gaze. He had expected to find a funny painting on the wall, or possibly a crude remark etched into the fake leather of the seat. Instead, he was flailing in an attempt to escape as he met a new set of eyes.

His scream was cut abruptly and effectively off by a salt sweaty hand over his mouth. He made a muffled sound of affronted anger, twisting roughly to at least get a better look at the stranger. The man had dark hair, slightly tousled from what had once been a neat slick back. His skin was beautifully healthy tan, but he had silvery scars along his hands and arms as a result of some type of physical labor. He didn't have a beard, but he was not clean shaven either. Finally, Viktor seethed at ale-colored eyes, wrenching his jaw out of the offenders hold and biting down on the flesh of his thenar eminence.

"Fuck!" The heat around the back of his neck and cheeks was gone, a string of saliva breaking once the man's hand was clutched to his broad chest. Viktor grunted and wiped away the moisture across his lips, all while keeping an unrelenting glower on him. The man laughed after a moment, his cheeks blowing up like a balloon and his eyebrows lifting in shock. His head flung backwards as his boisterous rumbles carried across the room. Viktor slowly turned to gawk at Mel, who was almost as amused as the other.

Viktor felt a furious, revengeful urge to hit them both in the head with his cane. But when Mel lifted a brow, he kept his fingers back from reaching for the stick at his side.

A hand in his peripheral vision made him begrudgingly look over. And his annoyance abruptly dropped, his mouth parting just slightly when the man tilted his head in a much sweeter acknowledgement. He hummed at Viktor's lack of requite, none of his pleasantry dropping as he took Viktor's free hand in his own. He had large hands, which was what he took note of immediately. It wrapped his own like a gift, a span of callouses digging into delicate bones.

"I'm Jayce."

He blinked, "Vik-"

"-Viktor." The way Jayce said his name felt like how the sun warmed your skin on a breezy day. He said nothing back. "I know who you are." Jayce didn't let his hand go. He noticed that their hands had only held each other's in a frozen grasp, and the thought made Viktor look back at Mel.

She smiled at him, the motion capacious and delightful. "Now that you two have been acquainted, let us discuss why we brought you here, Viktor."

Viktor looked between them, at Jayce's glee and Mel's pride at a job so far well done. Jayce's hand broke from the professional grasp they had adhered to and instead tucked his fingers under Viktor's palm. He regarded Mel with the same simmering excitement as he had Viktor.

"Go on," he nodded to her, attempting to ignore the broadening smile on the other man's face. It really was distracting. He found he didn't hate it as much as he normally would have. Or, the way he should have.

"I want to prevent war," Mel's sound dropped significantly. Viktor had to crane his neck closer to hear her clearly, brows pinched in concentration. "In order to do that, I have compiled a series of warnings to frighten Piltover into letting Zaun go. They will refuse, but we will punish them until they are burdened with guilt too heavy to carry further." She leaned in closer, elbows folded neatly on the greasy table. "It will take time, but it is my goal to manipulate the city in preventing further deaths."

Viktor bit back his wave of inquiries, sieving through them to find an easier one to portray his interest. He barely noticed the way his silence made concern flicker across his companions faces, or how Jayce's hand constricted around his own.

"How do I play into this? I do not hold any significant power."

"Of course you do," Mel held her chin up with one hand as she stared prettily at him. She was unrelenting, that was for certain, and was full of enough spirit for an army. He couldn't help but believe her.

Jayce nudged him, "Well," he whispered into Viktor's ear, "Are you in?"

He thought of Vander and his daughters, of Benzo and Ekko, of his entire block that protected him from being dragged back to Piltover for exile. In the back of his mind, he recalled memories of Cassandra and Caitlyn doing the same. He shuddered at the memory of the heartbreak they had observed him with before he had fled.

"Are you aware of my connections to the council?" They nodded, respectfully solemn. He sighed, the hairs in his face flying up like a broken parcel.

Jacy scooted himself even closer, "If we pull this off, you'll be able to see them again. In the sunlight, without the fear of getting sent away."

Mel reached a hand out, fixing his crazed whisps of hair that had fallen back into his eyes, "We will protect you, Viktor. But you have to trust us as much as we do you. And if that is too much to ask, you have to ask yourself if you can at least give us the chance to gain it ourselves." He felt his head grow heavier as he caught himself leaning into her touch. He straightened, weighing the options over again.

He could let it go. He could leave like he had never met these people before in his life. He could watch as Zaun fought for their own freedom, just as history naturally went. He knew he would have to watch his friends die, and that that would be inevitable in the case.

He had never delt with loss well. When Cassandra had told him the story of his real parents, how they had sent him down the Pilt in a last-ditch effort of saving his life, he had hidden away and ignored his own health for so long, that they had kept him in private, consistent company for weeks afterwards. Just the loss of people he had never met weighed heavy enough to cause a spiraling case of grief. He feared what a war would cause him to do. And, even as the lingering light of his family up in Piltover turned grey, he had his answer in mind.

"Can we get out of here?"

part 3

Fuis Moi

Jayce Talis x Viktor - Arcane (League of Legends) - 1 Chapter - 36,806 Words