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wakeupamelia · 9 months ago

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My Atlantis, We Fall | Part 1

Summary: A childhood friendship between Viktor and you grow into unspoken love, but your paths diverge when Viktor left you behind. Still heartbroken, you unexpectedly reunite during Progress Day after years, only to cause more heartbreak.

Pairing: Kid!Viktor X Kid!F!Reader, Viktor Arcane X Female Reader

Warnings: ANGST Words: 2.7k

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on my last Viktor fic! I am new to the Arcane fandom, so I apologize if I wrote some of these incorrectly <3 Hope you like this one as well. I will be posting Part 2 later today, hopefully!

The smog of Zaun never lifted. To Viktor, it was a constant haze that wrapped the Undercity in an unpleasant shade of gray. But even in that, there were spots of color, moments that broke through the dullness of it. For him, that color was you.

You were no stranger to the way the city worked. Born to a family scraping by on restricted earnings, you spent your days scouring the alleys for bits of scrap that could be sold or repurposed. The life of a scavenger wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest, and it was all you’d ever known.

At 9 years old, you met Viktor in the middle of a dusty alley, where scraps of metal and broken pipes littered all over the ground. He stood there, his cane awkwardly propped against a pile of junk as he messed around with some contraption he had made using a discarded piece of clock. For the first time ever, his golden eyes darted up to meet yours, they were wide with curiosity.

“Do you need help?” you asked, your tiny hands already brushing away the grime to pick up the gears he had dropped.

He hesitated before nodding. “Only if you don’t mind dirt.” You heard the accent for the first time.

From that moment on, dirt never mattered. Neither did the cane, or his limp, or the thin, almost too-pale figure that struggled to keep up with the other children. What mattered was him and the way his mind worked. Sharp and inventive that even the very air of Zaun couldn’t dull it.

The two of you spent your days hunting for scraps together, crafting makeshift toys your parents cannot afford, or setting little boats afloat in the polluted streams of the Undercity.

Life in the Undercity was a series of neverending struggles, but when you were with Viktor, it felt lighter somehow. You knew that together you could dream. Like you can achieve anything.

In the dim of the makeshift workshop you two had set up behind an old factory, you would spend hours building and talking about the future. Viktor would sit cross-legged on the ground, cane resting beside him. His golden eyes always alight with a passion that seemed to defy the gloom of your surroundings.

“We will leave someday,” he said, voice filled with determination. “We’ll go to Piltover. The air is clean there, and the people don’t suffer from the smog.”

You smiled at him and chuckled softly, hands busy polishing a piece of scrap metal. “And what will we do there?”

He let himself think for a moment, as if the question caught him off guard. Then he looked at you, his expression unusually serious. “Once we are there, we can change the world,” he said simply.

You laughed, a soft, melodic sound that echoed in the small space. “That is a big dream, Viktor.”

“Hey! It’s not just a dream,” he insisted, gaze unwavering. “We’ll do it. Together.”

"Promise?"

"Promise."

There was something about the way he said it that made you believe him. Viktor’s certainty was infectious. You could see it in the way he worked and the way he poured every ounce of himself into his small inventions.

Some days when his leg hurt too much to move, you would sit beside him to help him sort through the piles of scrap you had collected. He’d teach you the basics of his engineering, he was always patient and thorough while his hands guided yours as you pieced together a simple mechanism.

“See?” he'd say, voice tinged with pride as the small contraption you built whirred to life. “You’re a natural.”

You grinned, the warmth of his praise spreading through you like sunlight.

The days blurred together in work and laughter as your shared dreams served as a beacon in the darkness. It was during one of those days when you were both ten or eleven, that Viktor made a declaration that would stay with you forever.

You were sitting by the river, watching the toy boat Viktor had built move along the surface of the water. The sunlight did its best to pass through the smog, casting a glow over the scene that made the water seem like it was sparkling.

“When we grow up,” Viktor said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm, “I’m going to marry you.”

You turned to look at him, eyes are wide with surprise as you felt the warmth of your blood travel up to your cheeks. Then you laughed, a sound so full of joy. It was music to him. “Then you would have to make me a pretty ring, silly.”

Viktor nodded, his expression earnest. “Of course! Then I’ll build us a house in Piltover, and we’ll have a workshop where we can create anything we want.”

It was a childish promise, one you didn’t take seriously at the time. But for Viktor, it was more than that.

It was a goal; a dream he clung to with every fiber of his being.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

The day you found a cave felt like the start of a new stage of life.

As usual, it began with Viktor’s handmade boat, the delicate creation that floated across the river. You were laughing, like you always do when Viktor is around. It was as if everything's happy when you were together. Your voice echoed through the narrow canyon, laughing until you saw the boat drifting too far downstream.

“I’ll get it!” you called, kicking off your shoes and splashing into the shallow water. Viktor watched from the bank, his cane resting against a rock, his expression was a mix of amusement and mild concern. He would've been the one to dive in if only it wasn't for his leg.

You chased the boat until it got caught against a jagged rock near the mouth of a dark opening in the cliffside. “Vik, look!” you shouted, pointing to the cave.

He limped over to join you, curiosity piqued. The two of you went inside, the cool air of the cave was a contrast to the warmth of the day. The deeper you went, the more excited you grew.

What you found inside changed everything.

As you went further, the light spilling in from the entrance slowly faded, replaced by an eerie green glow. You exchanged a glance with Viktor, “What do you think it is?” you whispered, the volume barely louder than the drip of water from the stalactites above.

“No idea,” Viktor murmured, his fingers tightening around his cane.

The source of the glow soon became clear: a hidden lab, long abandoned yet still pulsing with strange energy. You could almost feel it on your skin. Machines lined the walls, coated in layers of dust. Beakers filled with faintly glowing liquids sat undisturbed on a table alongside half-finished notes and sketches in a language you didn’t understand.

“Woah!” You stepped closer, your breath hitching at the sight. “Viktor, this is awesome!”

He nodded, gaze fixed on a machine in the corner that hummed silently as if it was alive. “Whoever built this was a genius,” he said, his voice filled with awe. He felt like this is where he belonged. For the first time he felt like he belonged. “Imagine what they could have created here.”

It was then that you heard the shuffling of footsteps. You both froze, hearts pounding in unison as a figure emerged from the shadows. He was sharp-featured, eyes glinting with a dangerous intelligence.

“Curious little mice, aren’t you?” the man said.

You instinctively moved closer to Viktor, your hand grabbing his arm. You felt safe that way. “We didn’t mean to intrude,” you said quickly, your voice steady despite the fear curling in your chest.

The man—Singed, as he introduced himself—was a Zaunite alchemist. He seemed more intrigued than angry as his gaze lingered on Viktor with intensity. He asked many questions, probing Viktor about his interest in machines and invention.

“I see potential in you, boy,” Singed said after a long pause, his voice carrying a weight of authority that was impossible to ignore. “A sharp mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted scavenging scraps. I could teach you things. Show you how to truly create.”

Viktor hesitated, his grip tightening around the worn wood of his cane. His knuckles whitened, using his other hand to place it on top of yours that was still rested around his arm. His touch comforted you more that he realized.

“What about her?” he asked, his voice quieter. He glanced at you, golden-brown eyes searching yours as if they were trying to find reassurance, or perhaps permission.

Singed’s gaze shifted to you briefly, cold and judgmental, before dismissing you entirely with a shrug of indifference. “I have no use for distractions,” he said bluntly, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience in Viktor’s path.

The words stung. But what hurt more wasn’t Singed’s dismissal, it was the flicker of emotion on Viktor’s face.

You could see the storm brewing in his eyes. The pull of ambition against the weight of loyalty, the desire to seize an opportunity against the fear of what he’d leave behind.

He looked at you again, his expression was pained and conflicted. “I...” he began, but the words died in his throat.

“Hey, it’s okay!” even though it wasn’t, you still said it while smiling. “You should go, Vik. This is what you always wanted, right?”

The words felt like lead on your tongue, but you said them anyway. Because this was Viktor’s dream, wasn’t it? To break free from the chains of Zaun, to do what he is passionate about and take any step to build a better future. You couldn’t stand in the way of that, no matter how much it hurt.

After that day, everything changed.

Viktor began spending more of his time in the cave with Singed, learning things you couldn’t begin to comprehend. The closeness you shared, the companionship that defined your days, was slowly replaced by distance.

At first, he tried to make time for you. You’d see each other twice a week. His hands and clothes would often smell faintly of chemicals and his mind clearly still preoccupied with whatever he’d been working on.

“How was it?” you’d ask, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

“It’s fascinating,” he’d reply, eyes lighting up in a way that made your heart twist. “There’s so much to learn, so much to do.”

You wanted to be happy for him. You tried. But it was hard not to feel like you were losing him, piece by piece, day by day.

The Viktor you had grown up with, the boy who had dreamed with you, who had promised to build a life together in Piltover, was slipping away.

You can feel it.

Eventually, even the twice-a-week meetings stopped. You hadn't realized that the both of you have grown into teenagers.

You considered that it was just a temporary thing at first, that Viktor was just busy with his new life and his ambitions. But the days turned into weeks, then months, and still, there was no sign of him. You did not bother going to that cave, still too hurt to face that man Singed for the second time.

You went to the places you used to go to frequently together. Hoping to catch a glimpse of him, hoping that the streets of Zaun would somehow bring him back to you. You waited, watched, sometimes even hallucinated he would appear around the corner with that damn crooked smile. The same smile that used to make everything feel okay.

But it never happened.

You said you didn’t care, but then you would be lying to yourself. You didn’t want to care, but the ache in your chest told you otherwise. You missed him more than you were willing to admit. And every time you walked past the spots where you once laughed and talked, where you shared dreams, that pain hit you all over again.

The day your family decided to move out of Zaun was the final blow. You wanted to tell him. No, you needed to tell him. You needed him to know that you were leaving. Maybe, just maybe, he’d say something to stop you from walking away from the place that had once held the dreams you shared.

So, you went to his home.

You stood there. The familiar wooden door that always opened to reveal him, limping toward you with that look of recognition and warmth.

You knocked. And knocked again. Heart pounding in your chest as you waited to hear his voice from the other side. But when the door opened, it wasn’t Viktor who greeted you.

It was an empty, cold silence.

The neighbors told you he’d moved. No one knew where, just that he wasn’t coming back.

The feeling was like a slap in the face.

Since when was he gone?

You couldn’t comprehend it. How could he just leave like that? The memories of all those times, those quiet moments where you had thought you were the most important person in his life suddenly felt like lies.

You convinced yourself, over and over, that he would always come back to see you, to explain himself, that the bond between you was way too strong to break. The amount of times you told yourself, "If he comes back tomorrow, I will forgive him" was beyond ridiculous at this point. Because it never happened, and now, everything seemed foolish.

The anger bubbled up inside you. Burning and consuming. And yet, underneath the anger, there was a deeper, more painful emotion. A quiet sorrow you didn’t want to acknowledge because it was too raw, too unbearable.

"Why..."

The truth was, you loved him. And he left you behind.

The years passed, and you are now in your early twenties. The anger inside you eventually faded. Time, as it always does, softened the sharp edges of your pain. But the emptiness never truly went away.

You tried to fill it with other things, other people, other distractions. But there were nights when his face would appear in your dreams, and you’d wake up with that same hollow feeling in your chest.

You thought about him often, even when you told yourself you wouldn’t. You wondered if he ever thought about you, if he ever regretted how things ended between you two.

You hated yourself. For still caring, for still holding on to something that crumbled a long time ago. You wanted to move on, to forget him and everything he had meant to you. But a part of you still clung to the memories of your childhood.

The laughter, the dreams, the whispered promises.

It was the only thing you had left of him now. It hurt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Progress Day

You found yourself in Piltover, the city you and Viktor had once dreamed of when you were just children playing amidst the grime of Zaun.

He was right. He always is. The air was indeed lighter, free of the toxic smog that choked you since the day you were born. The streets were filled with energy and purpose, lined with tall buildings that gleamed under the bright sun. Progress hummed in every corner, from the click of Hextech gadgets to the chatter of inventors sharing ideas.

You had fought hard to get here. The countless nights spent working until exhaustion, the sacrifices, the dreams you had held onto so tightly—it had all led to this. You should be proud of yourself.

And you were. You could look around at everything you had built and feel the satisfaction of knowing you did it. But no matter how high you climbed, no matter how far you tried to run, it still feels hollow inside. An emptiness that lingered like a ghost.

An emptiness that only Viktor could fill.

Deep inside, you knew that to yourself. It whispered in the quiet moments, when the celebrations died down and you were left alone with your thoughts.

The city was alive with celebration. It was a day to honor the advancements of Piltover after all. You attended one of the more exclusive parties, hosted by none other than Jayce Talis, the prodigy of Hextech innovation. You had little interest in the fanfare, but it was a chance to network, to prove your place among the elite minds of Piltover.

You had expected the night to be uneventful. Mingling with strangers, exchanging polite but fake smiles and calculated compliments. It was all part of the routine by now.

What you hadn’t expected was him.

#this so good what the hell #viktor arcane

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