It might be you ᢉ𐭩
原神 — the moment they realize they’ve fallen in love ! ft. Lohen, Childe, & Wanderer . . . wc: ~1.4k words each
— Reader drinks wine and champagne and gets drunk lol, Childe is called “Ajax,” reader is lowkey bitchin at hat guy ngl … buts its all g, soft wanderer awwww
Author’s Notes : I was listening to “It Might Be You” by Stephen Bishop and I had this idea hehe
Ი𐑼 – Lohen
It had been a few hours since the captain and vice-captain of the 5th company had been forcefully listening to Varka yap about his days before he became the Grand Master. You opted to drink your wine over and over in an attempt to make time go faster, and also to maybe drown out his voice. It hadn’t caught up to you that it had been your fourth bottle straight, and that a certain vice-captain’s focus shifted onto his captain, wanting to see what a very drunk, very dazed boss would do (and a red-haired bartender was beginning to get concerned, too!).
“Would you even believe that I failed those stupid prep exams!? I should get rid of those. Can I even? Jean might get mad at me, though…” Varka talked and talked, not realizing the captain of the 5th company was a red, hot mess.
You held your head with your hand, trying to keep sitting up straight, barely. “Mmm..? Maybe, I dunno…” you slurred your speech, not at all listening to him at this point. You stood up from your seat, your steps wobbly. “I’m gonna get some fresh air…” You announced to the two. Lohen knew that was code for ‘I feel like I’m gonna puke and I don’t wanna do it in front of my boss.’
Lohen followed your figure as it went outside of Angel’s Share, the door shutting behind you. He couldn’t deny that he was so, so curious to see you in this state. He made up some half-assed excuse to Varka, saying that he was ‘worried’ and that he should ‘check up on you.’
Varka smiled at Lohen’s poor excuse, knowing full well why he wanted to go out to you, even when Lohen wasn’t aware of himself.
Lohen stood up and went out, only to find you leaning back on the wall of the building, your eyes closed while holding onto your stomach, trying very hard to hold it in. Your flushed cheeks were noticeable in the moonlight, as well as your dizzy expression. Lohen found it absolutely adorable, especially the way you were so vulnerable at this moment.
Wait, what?
Lohen shook his head before going over to you, leaning beside you as he peeked at your face.
“Caaaap, don’t you look great?” Lohen teased you, making you open your eyes and meet with his. You sighed as you heard his tease, your head going back against the wall.
“Not right now, Lohen…” You mumbled to him, your hand going through your hair to soothe your headache. “Why’d you leave Varka? He’s gonna complain later..”
“Varka’s a grown man, he can handle being by himself for a few minutes. Besides, I think he’d just find another unlucky knight to listen to his stories,” he said, earning a small smile from you. “And I think a little bartender inside is starting to get worried, you know.”
“Master Diluc?” You uttered under your breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts.
“Mmmhm. He looked like he was five seconds away from snatching your wine,” he told you with lilt in his voice, playful in his nature. “You look like you would’ve defended that bottle with your life, given how bored you were. That’s rude, y’know?”
You were startled that he caught on to your boredom– but then again, this was Lohen you were talking about. It was annoying how perceptive he was. You couldn’t get a moment’s peace with him at all.
“I don’t think Varka noticed… Did he?” You doubted yourself, looking at him. Then, you let out a breath that smelled of wine, your hand combing through your hair. “Ugh, I feel sick…” You complained, your eyebrows furrowed.
"Wouldn't you want to sit down if you’re feeling dizzy, Captain? I must say, you have less survival instinct than me, and that’s saying a lot,” Lohen said, going to see if there was an available chair from one of the tables set up outside the tavern.
“No thanks, I feel better standing…”
“That’s stupid, Cap.”
“Lohen–“ He didn’t listen to you, grabbing your wrist to make you sit on the chair, not noticing how your face grew significantly redder at his boldness.
“Rude…” You said, immediately leaning on the table for support. He sat right beside you, undeniably close, just in case you needed some support. Just in case.
“You’re sooo red,” he said playfully, a smile on his face as he stared at yours, watching your face become flustered. “Are you sure you’re alriiiight?” He knew you were, but he couldn’t help but tease you. It was basically second nature to him.
Although, your reaction was far from his expectations.
In your drunken stupor, you chuckled at his attempt at a joke, leaning back on your chair, a small smile on your face. He watched your expression as you laughed, the same light from the moon that highlighted your flushed face also making you seem so ethereal right now. He couldn’t help but smile too. He didn’t realize his face became red as well.
Your head landed on the corner of his chair, unbearably close to his shoulder. He wondered why you hadn’t just rested your head there. It was much more comfortable, he’d say.
“Should we go back inside?” You said softly, looking up at the sky from your position. “I feel like he’s going to tease us when we go back in, though,” Lohen laughed at your comment, inconspicuously moving closer so your head was on his shoulder.
“Sounds like him. Do you want to go in? I quite like the breeze right now,” he couldn’t be any more obvious that he wanted to stay there, even for a little while longer, with you. He thanked the archons above that you were drunk beyond saving.
“Mmm… No, not yet… I like it here,” you said, slurring your words as you got comfortable on Lohen’s shoulder. If he weren’t flustered already, now he was malfunctioning. Lohen sighed, leaning his head on top of yours with his face buried in your hair, savoring your presence.
“Yeah? You like it riiight here? With me?” He tried to get more out of you, that mischievous smirk back on his face like it was a permanent feature on him.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Lohen,” you said, smacking the back of his head with your free hand, the other resting on the table. He laughed at your action, smoothing over the place where you had hit him.
“Is this how a captain disciplines their officers?” He muttered almost flirtatiously in your hair.
“Don’t phrase it like that!” He laughed at your words, his fingers subconsciously going through your hair. It felt almost relaxing.
“Alright, alright! Calm dooown, won’t you? You’re already drunk out of your mind, do you wanna make it worse?”
“Shut up, Lohen…” Your reprimanding tone earned another chuckle from him, going quiet. He lifted his head from yours, looking down at your face. He didn’t realize he’d been staring for too long, not until you looked up at him and caught his gaze.
“…What?” You asked, confused on why he was staring at you. He looked away just as quickly, his face crimson.
“…Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“I’m serious, cap! Won’t you believe me?”
“Why would I ever?" You both laughed, completely forgetting about the Grand Master inside the tavern, probably chatting up the uninterested bartender. He watched your face, at how you just looked so comfortable with him.
You chatted like that for a while, not noticing the time pass by as the stars in Teyvat’s sky seemed to shine a little bit brighter, your laughter filling up the empty streets as your feeling of sickness started to subside.
He had a feeling then, that he wanted to feel like this every day, and that he wanted to feel it with you.
৻ꪆ – Childe
The Fatui’s gala always included very powerful figures from all over the nation, which would become useful in the Fatui’s future plans.
Childe was dressed to the nines in a suit that was tailored just for this occasion, a charming smile on his face as he entertained the guests on behalf of the Tsaritsa. He was easy to trust. With his charisma, you wouldn’t even guess that he was a harbinger, it didn’t match him at all.
You watched from afar, drinking the champagne that the servers had given you, not wanting to mingle in with the crowd yourself. You merely observed them, seeing façade after façade of the most powerful people of Snezhnaya. It was clear how uninterested you were, almost wanting to sneak out and enjoy your solace instead.
Childe finished his conversation with a duke from another nation, excusing himself as he saw you, looking too good for his own liking. He walked over to where you were, your eyes following his tall figure.
“How are you enjoying this, comrade? Up to your standards?” He asked you, getting a glass of wine from the tray of the server.
“It could be better,” you said, not trying to hide how utterly bored you were. You swirled your champagne around on your glass, looking through the crowd.
“Not liking it much, are you now?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t, but your face tells me all I need to know,” he saw a server holding some pastries he knew you liked, calling them over and getting two. “Eat up, comrade. Or is this not to your liking too?”
You huffed a smile at his words, eating the food in small quantities. “Demanding as always, Childe?” he hummed at your question, eating his own.
“No ‘Ajax’ today? I can never get used to you calling me that, comrade,” he commented on your use of his title, a smile on his face. You set down your glass, looking up at him.
“Official business means official titles. I can’t be caught being unprofessional with the Tsaritsa’s weapon of war now, can I?” You flashed him a smile, mirroring his own.
“You do have a point there, comrade,” he agreed, setting down his food on the plate. He thought for a bit, a hand on his chin. “Then why don’t we get out of here? What do you say?”
You thought about it for a moment, like you were even considering staying here. You nodded after a few seconds, letting Childe drag you into a private part of Zapolyarny palace where guests weren’t allowed. He’d make an exception for you.
The wind from the palace terrace made you feel at ease despite Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, glad to be away from the stifling crowd of masks and elegant gowns and suits. You and Childe leaned against the railing, taking in the scenery from high above.
“So…” Childe started. “Still calling me my title or what?”
You looked at him, his hair blowing in the direction of the wind, messing up its style.
“Do you dislike it that much?”
“Not at all! I’m just not used to hearing it from you, that’s all,” he explained to you, scratching the back of his head. He sighed, admiring the sight of the city… and you. He stared at you for a moment, your outfit perfectly fitting you and matching the theme of the gala. Safe to say, he was absolutely enamored by you.
“Staring is rude, Ajax,” your soft voice snapped him out of his trance, returning to his charming persona. You chuckled at his sudden shift. You said his name with such familiarity and warmth, it made him feel something he shouldn’t. You looked back at the city below.
“Can you blame me when you look radiant this evening, comrade?” Childe had a bad habit of buttering you up every chance he got. Yet, every time, it makes you blush and look away. It was one of the things you could never get used to with him.
“You flatter me.”
“Is it flattery if it’s the truth?” You thought he was joking, almost laughing before you properly looked at him, stopping yourself when you saw how serious he was.
“…Not technically, no,” you said, feeling hot all of the sudden, despite the cold. Since when was he like this?
He noticed your flushed out face, furrowing his eyebrows. “Are you okay? Is it too cold out here?” He asked, pressing the back of his palm to your forehead to check your temperature. You blushed even harder, turning away to avoid his gaze as you nodded.
He shrugged off the coat of his suit, wrapping it around your frame to somehow shield you from the cold.
“Let’s go over there. It’s warmer,” he said, catching your wrist as he pulled you under the shade of the palace. “Better?”
“Yeah, thanks, Ajax,” you said, looking up at him. Only then did he see how his coat fit you and how you looked so comfortable in it. Wow, you looked so…
He didn’t continue his thoughts as he shook his head, watching as you let the coat hang off your shoulders.
“What are you thinking of right now?” You saw how he kept on zoning out when he looked at you, thinking deeply— or maybe not thinking at all.
“…That you look beautiful today,” he said suddenly, in such a tender and meek way— unexpected from that of a harbinger— catching the both of you by surprise. His eyes widened as he processed what he just said, smiling to cover up his embarrassment. “Ah, I mean– uhm…” He stumbled on his words, looking away.
“Thank you, Ajax,” You chuckled as he fumbled, seeing him cover his face with his gloved hands. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“You say that like you’re being forced to,” he said, a small pout forming on his lips.
“I’m serious! You look good tonight,” you reassure him, a lighthearted smile on your face. “Not that you haven’t heard that today, anyway,” you added, adjusting his coat on your shoulders.
“I like hearing it from you better than those people. They just want something, most of the time,” he quietly says. You hummed. Being a powerful figure in Snezhnaya yourself, you understood where he was coming from.
“Some of the maidens inside seemed pretty interested, Ajax. You really don’t want to test your chances?”
“However interested they are, comrade, I’m even less interested. Besides, I’m too busy for that,” Childe clarified, his head leaning back on the wall.
Just then, from inside the palace, the music for the cotillion portion of the dance started.
“Are you sure you’re still not interested?” You asked him teasingly, looking at the window that could overlook the hall of the gala. “They look like they’re looking for you,” you said, seeing several damsels look around the hall for a ginger-haired harbinger.
“…Well, maybe I am a little bit interested in dancing with one person,” Childe mumbled, not looking at the window, but rather at you. You saw in the reflection of his gaze, tearing your eyes away from the gala and looking up at him. A sudden realization dawned upon you, but you didn’t comment on it.
“You should ask them to dance, then, no? It’s a waste of a good night,” You said.
“Hmm, okay…” He turned to you, offering his hand. “May I have this dance, then, comrade?” He asked you, his eyes shining in the night, a smile on his face. He looked relaxed and composed, but if you knew him more than the mask he wears, you’d know how nervous he was right now.
But all his thoughts went away when you smiled at him, putting your hand on top of his. “You’re quite the sweetheart, aren’t you, Ajax?” You said it like you expected him to ask you. How could you be so calm right now?
He pulled you closer into a dance, his hand on your waist, while his other supported yours. He started to sway you around, following the beat of the music that leaked from inside. In that moment, he couldn’t deny how enchanted he was by you.
Thirty minutes passed since you started dancing, your head rested on his chest as your steps began to become more minimal. Childe was basically hugging you at this point, his hand on your waist keeping you close. His chin rested on top of your head, the hands that held each other dropped to your sides, yet still enclosed. It all felt too natural for two people who worked with each other.
“Why not dance with people with actual influence, Ajax? I feel like you’d benefit from that better,” you said quietly.
“Influence on what?”
“Y’know, the Fatui… Connections and stuff like that,” you explained, looking up at him. He looked down to see you. He hummed in thought, his hand on your waist moving to tuck your hair behind your ear.
“…Well, what about the one who has an influence on me?” He questioned softly, spinning you around when the music called for it. Just then, you landed close to his face, and you saw him look at your lips, and back to your eyes. Childe sighed then, pulling you closer to hug you, trapping you in his arms as he hides his face— which was currently blushing profusely— into the crook of your neck.
“What’s wrong, Ajax?” You asked gently, hugging him back in an attempt to comfort him.
I think I love you.
He was so, so tempted to just tell you, to risk your companionship, to risk you.
But, he didn’t. As much as he claimed to love you, he couldn’t, in a thousand years, imagine his life with you if he chose to risk it all.
“…Nothing,” he mumbled into your neck, letting himself savor your presence. Yeah. This was fine. This was enough for him.
᯽ – Wanderer
Nahida had assigned him on an important paired assignment a few months back, with his very willing partner— you.
You and Wanderer were complete opposites. He had a permanent scowl on his face and an aura that could scare away scholars from his mere glance. While you were one of the few people that grew to know how caring he was really like.
Recently though, your research paper with him was going downhill faster than the fall of a certain fatui harbinger, previous scholar! (Not that he cares.)
You were stressed to a tee, and it wasn’t helping that your partner had a habit of cramming like a maniac and getting things done right before the deadline. The results of your research didn’t match your hypothesis at all! Nothing also aligned with the papers you’ve already seen with similar topics. Your professor was really going to fail you now…
You were hunched back on the table, books, quills, and parchment paper placed in an organized mess that covered the entire table. Your hands were dirty with ink and papercuts were a common sight to you now. Meanwhile, a certain puppet calmly wrote on a scratch, looking as composed as ever.
While you… How could he even begin to describe you? You looked like you hadn’t slept in days— in this case, was true— and your hair stuck out from all directions because of how much your hand went through it in habit.
“Calm down, won’t you? Before you get permanent wrinkles on your face. You don’t wanna look worse than you already are, do you?” He said to you arrogantly, putting down his quill and turning his attention to your form.
You sighed, fixing your posture, your head in your hands.
“Just ‘cause you’re a puppet doesn’t mean you can say that about humans, y’know,” you commented halfheartedly, not in the mood to argue with him and his annoyingly pretty face.
“I’m just saying it like it is.”
“Maybe try focusing on the paper more than me, huh?”
“How can’t I focus on you when you look like an absolute mess?” He crossed his hands as he leaned back on the chair.
Maybe it was the late hour getting to you, or maybe it was the fact you were months into this and you were nowhere near finishing it, but you just couldn’t deal with him!
“Look, if you’re just gonna stay and bitch around, just leave. I can do more by myself and with you hanging around and doing nothing,” you couldn’t deny that the stress was definitely affecting your words and actions, but you felt unapologetic then, hyper-focused on the project that was due in a month.
Wanderer sighed. He wasn’t a stranger to the moments when you’d lash out on him, knowing it wasn’t really him you were angry with. He knew there was no use trying to get you to calm down when you were upset.
“Fine. But when I come back, you better have cooled off,” he said, standing up and leaving you in the library. Ugh, how annoying could he get?
You continued to work for a while, still stuck on the same thing.
You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wanderer came back, this time with a cup of your favorite drink and some food from Puspa Café. He returned to your side, placing the food on the table and the coffee in front of you. You glanced at it, putting your quill down.
You stayed silent, suddenly feeling very bad about what you said to him earlier. He didn’t respond, watching as you drank the coffee, then sighing.
“Next time you do that, I’m dropping you as my partner,” he threatened, grabbing the paper you were working on before he arrived. You didn’t think much of his threat, seeing as he’s said several times before and yet, here you were. Still there.
“Sure…”
“I’m serious.”
“Uh-huh,” you said, leaning back on your chair, sighing deeply.
“Stop that,” he said suddenly, reading through what you wrote. He annotated on it, correcting your mistakes and adding his suggestions.
“Stop what?” You looked at him, now eating the food he’d gotten you. It was only now did you realize that you hadn’t eaten anything that day, and it was already late.
“That sighing. You’re so stressed, it’s getting bothersome.”
“It’s not my fault that this paper just can’t seem to cooperate!” You defended yourself, a frown on your lips.
“You’re not going to be able to control what the outcome of this study is. That’s why it’s research, you study it and see why it’s that way. So stop stressing your pretty little head and calm yourself before you break down,” he said.
“…You suck at comforting people, Hat Guy,” you mumbled, covering your face with your hands again, before taking a deep breath.
“I’m just telling it like it is. It’s not like you're going to fail because of that. I won’t let it happen,” you hummed at his words, finally looking at him.
“…Thanks.”
“For what? Not letting you fail? We share a grade, you know. If you fail, I fail,” he explained, crossing his arms.
“For dealing with me. I know I can be too much sometimes,” you admitted, your fingers fidgeting on the paper cup of your coffee.
“Sometimes?” He said mockingly, raising his eyebrow.
“Fine, all the time. Stop interrupting me,” you couldn’t hide the exasperation in your voice, your hand going through your hair once more.
“Continue then, Your Majesty,” little shit.
“Never miiind,” you said, taking back your words of appreciation. Your smile still held a certain weight that you tried to hide from him, that his words and actions still weren’t enough to calm the storm.
You both continued to work on it, yet the pressure was getting to you. You couldn’t solve the issues in your study, and when you did, you would find another problem that was hard to figure out. It was exhausting you, both mentally and physically.
Wanderer saw how the stress was building up again, evident in your frown and your overall state. By now, the library was almost empty, save for the few scholars who were also working on their own research papers.
You were so, so close to breaking down, and Wanderer noticed it before you did.
In your stress, you didn’t realize you had started tearing up, the tears dropping onto the parchment you were writing on, smudging the ink of what you wrote.
“Ugh, shit..” you exclaimed quietly, wiping your eyes. It proved to be useless, seeing as your paper quickly became stained with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong? What’s bringing this on, huh?” Wanderer exclaimed in a surprisingly soft tone, wanting to reach out but not knowing if should. Carefully, he guides you to lean back on your chair, his hand on the back of your chair as he went closer to you, observing the way you avoided his gaze.
“I just… I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong… It’s so annoying…” You said through your tears, desperately trying to cover yourself in embarrassment. Wanderer pulls your hand hide away from your face, wiping your wet cheeks with a spare handkerchief he had.
“It’s okay. Just let it all out,” he says with such an unfamiliar tone, you couldn’t believe you were talking to the same person.
You quickly tried to compose yourself, your deep breaths turning into shaky sighs. Wanderer whispered comforting words to you in the quiet of the night like it was second nature to come to your aid.
“It’ll get better, okay? Don’t let it consume you whole. It’ll be okay, I promise,” he mumbled to you, waiting patiently for you as your tears finally dried, leaving you exhausted.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” he said with such kindness. You wouldn’t expect it from the ice-cold scholar from the Vahumana Darshan. No one would.
He talked tender words to you for a few minutes, warmth blossoming in his chest. It was ironic that he could feel that way. But it reminded him of how human it made him.
It surprised himself that he didn’t think twice to comfort you and make you feel better. He knew that he wouldn’t do that for anyone else. No way.
You were the only exception.
As you two spent some minutes in comfortable silence, he realized one thing. He liked making you feel better. He always wanted you to feel good, even at the expense of his own convenience. It wasn’t like him at all.
“Feel better?” He asked you, rubbing your back to sooth you.
You nodded in response, still sniffling. “Yeah, I’m sorry again—“
“Don’t. Don’t say anything. Just feel better,” he realized then, that when the words came out before he could process it, that he felt something different with you.
He wouldn’t feel this warm feeling if comforted anyone else. He was sure of it. He knew he wouldn’t feel the need to ease their worries like he did with you.
He didn’t know what this feeling was. He should consult Nahida with it.
© ke1rinn 2026
