good boy

Chapter 2

Childe rises to the smell of pancakes in the air. He sits up, surveying his surroundings. It looks like he’s in a room… no, an apartment? An apartment with a kitchen, living room, bedroom, everything. He is on the sofa, his back aching from sleeping on it.

What happened?

He closes his eyes, recalling the events leading up to—

Hold on. Childe is supposed to be in the Abyss. What is this place? Where is that woman?

He stands up and steps toward the kitchen, finding the same woman there, an apron tied around her waist. Flipping over pancakes.

“Wh—?” Childe rubs his eyes, making sure what he is looking at is real.

The woman turns to him. “Oh, good, you’re up just in time for breakfast!” Her voice has a cheerful lilt to it, but her face remains blank. Her voice—!

It’s her. The voice in his head. Whispering.

The woman transfers the pancakes to a plate and lays it on the table nearby. She takes off the apron and sits down. Meanwhile, Childe is still standing in the entrance hallway of the kitchen, his jaw hanging from his mouth.

The woman looks back at him from her chair. “Well? Won’t you be joining me, dear? Aren’t you starving?”

“I’m not hungr—” Childe’s stomach interrupts him with a loud grumble.

The woman giggles. “Come on, it’s going to get cold.”

Childe follows her, sitting down across her from the small table. He looks down at his plate, then back at her.

“Where am I?” Childe asks.

“What do you mean?” she says in between bites of the pancake.

“I—I was in the Abyss. And you were there.”

“Oh, yeah. We are still in the Abyss, dear.”

Childe looks around. He notices it, finally, what was missing in this seemingly ordinary apartment. Windows. There are no windows.

“Just because I live down in the Abyss does not mean I have to live in such an ugly castle ruin,” the woman says.

“So, we’re still in the Abyss,” Childe says.

“Yes, I already told you that. Keep up,” says the woman.

Childe looks down at his plate and prods the pancake with his fork. He is hungry, but he is uncertain about eating food prepared by the enemy.

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she says. “I have nothing to gain from killing you. Now, don’t be disrespectful and eat.”

Childe makes a tentative slice of the pancake, inspecting the piece.

“Or starve, if that’s what you want,” she says.

“What I want,” Childe starts, “is to know who you are.”

The woman scoffs, twirling her fork in her hand. “Do you always go on missions without knowing who your target is and what she looks like?”

So, it is her. The Abyss Princess. Lumine. He was in the right castle, after all.

“You must know now why I have come,” Childe says. His stomach grumbles again. Nevertheless, he resists the temptation of the fluffy pancake before him.

Lumine shrugs. “I could honestly care less about the why. The more important thing is the fact that you are here.”

“Why does that matter?”

Lumine stands up and sits on the chair diagonal to Childe. She is closer now, and as Childe studies her face, he can almost imagine the two pairs of eyes blinking back at him. She rests her forearm on the table and leans toward him.

“It matters because of the power you hold,” Lumine says.

She lays a palm on his, fingers skimming toward the pulse on his wrist.

“It matters because I know you are capable of so much more, and yet, here you are, settling for so much less,” she continues.

Her two fingers press firm over the pulse. The beat runs stronger and louder, as if recognizing her presence.

“I can feel it,” she says, closing her eyes.

“I don’t,” Childe says, though he knows she is not lying. He would be foolish to give in so easily to the enemy’s temptations. The Tsaritsa taught him better. Empty promises of strength are not something worth betraying Snezhnaya for.

Lumine opens her eyes. Her striking, golden eyes. Then she smiles.

“Eat,” is all she says.

His stomach grumbles.

She does not blink.

Childe takes the fork and brings the pancake slice to his mouth. It is… quite delicious, actually.

“See how easy it is?” Lumine says. “See how easy it is to do as you’re told?”

She steeples her fingers together, watching Childe gobble down the rest of the pancakes. He was hungry, but he didn’t realize he was that starved. How long has he been out?

Before he asks that question, Lumine says, “You were out for a day. How are you feeling?”

“Um,” Childe starts. “Okay, I guess.”

“Good,” she says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

There is a smile on her face, but Childe knows there is something wrong. That is not the smile of a happy person. He is not the best at reading people, not even half as good as Pulcinella is, but he knows there’s something off with her. He does not know what, exactly.

“Come on,” she says, standing up and leaving the kitchen.

Childe follows her with his eyes, watching for any sudden moves, but nothing happens. So, he stands up and follows her to the living room. She sits on the sofa, patting the space beside her for him.

“Sit,” she says.

He sits beside her.

“Good boy,” she says. A warm, pleasant tingle rushes through him at her words.

He should not be feeling that way. His intuitions tell him he needs to leave now, but he’ll be damned if he leaves empty-handed. He still has a mission to accomplish.

Pantalone had taught him that everything has a price. An equivalent exchange, of sorts. Knowledge is a precious commodity. Childe was never adept at this sort of game, preferring to outright interrogate the target to get answers. But he decides to give the indirect approach a try.

“What did you mean about my powers?” Childe asks. Perhaps this question can serve as a leeway to finding out about the Abyss Order’s plans.

Lumine leans back on the sofa and places her legs on his lap. “Oh, so now you’re interested?”

Childe stares down at his lap. He has never been so physically close to a woman. Not that he can see anything. The skirt obscures her thighs, but the thought of a Princess casually putting her legs on him is enough to make blood rush downwards.

She sits up; her face close to his. “Well, are you?”

He turns to her. “What?”

“Are you interested?”

His heart is pounding.

“I’m—I’m interested in knowing,” Childe swallows the lump in his throat. “In knowing about it. My powers, I mean.”

Lumine laughs softly. “You have had this power for so many years, and yet, you have not entirely unraveled its potential.”

Her face is so close to his, but Childe steels himself.

“How do you know this?” Childe says.

“I’ll admit, I have been watching you,” she says. “You fascinate me.”

“Fascinate?” he repeats.

“Mm-hmm,” she affirms. A lone finger traces the outline of his jaw. “You’ve fought my Heralds. You’ve seen what they can do. I know you’ve seen your similarities with them.”

Childe nods.

“They’ve gone through what you have, here in the Abyss,” she continues. “But you.” Her hand takes firm hold of his jaw. “You not only possess Abyssal power, but that of a Vision and Delusion, too. Normally, a combination of all three should be more than enough to kill a human. But you are still alive.”

Lumine pauses, peering straight into his eyes. “Or are you?”

Childe holds her wrist, trying to pull her hand away from him, but she stays firm in her grasp. He tugs away, but she is evidently stronger than her.

In one swift motion, Lumine adjusts her position, sitting on his lap, facing him. She pins him down by the wrists, framing his head. Childe holds his breath as she leans in to his ear and whispers, “You can do so much more.”

He makes a move to pull away, but his wrists won’t budge from her hold on him.

“What do you want?” he asks in a murmur.

“I want you,” she says, voice still in his ear, sending shivers down his spine, “to be my right-hand man.”

“Don’t you have your Heralds?” Childe says.

Lumine leans back, her full weight on his thighs, letting go of his wrists. “Don’t you have your dearest Tsaritsa? And yet, she insists on bringing you to dull diplomatic missions. Your comrades have a distaste for your tendency to jump headfirst. And yet, you stay. Why?”

“That is none of your business,” he says, gritting his teeth. It is taking him so much willpower not to cave in. The blood rushing down to his crotch does not help.

Lumine holds her hands up in mock surrender. “Fair enough. But like I said, I have been watching you, Ajax.”

His blood runs cold at the mention of his birth name. No one but his family knows, not even his fellow Fatui Harbingers or Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

She leans down to his ear again, and this time Childe feels her grinding down on him with her weight. He draws in a sharp breath, trying hard to focus.

“I know your queen sent you to find out what I’m up to,” she says. “I would love to send you back and tell her to fuck off, but I think keeping you would make for a much better message, am I right?”

He keeps heaving deep breaths. It is difficult to concentrate. Especially with a beautiful lady on his lap, whispering softly in his ear. Why was he here again? Was there something important he had to do?

“Fuck,” he says, groaning at her persistent grinding. He can’t think anymore. His hands find her waist and he pulls her down at him, craving more of that grinding sensation on his hard cock.

Lumine hums, holding on to his shoulders, continuing to grind on him. “With me, you don’t have to think about anything. You can wreak havoc all you want. Be my weapon of war. If you accept, I will take very good care of you, Ajax.”

Ajax can’t think. He just wants.

“Do you want a taste of the power I can give you?” she asks.

Yes, yes. Gods, please, yes.

Lumine smiles. She takes a dagger out of nowhere and cuts across her forearm. Blood blooms in a line. Dark purple blood. She offers it to him. Ajax takes it in his mouth, sucking the blood out of the open wound. Lumine places a hand on his head, gently running her fingers through his hair.

“Good boy,” she says. “The Abyss in your veins comes from my own, my dear Ajax.”

Sure enough, his heart shudders in his chest as he takes in her blood, fusing with his own. He sucks her arm clean, lapping the blood as it flows. The Abyssal blood in him hums with delight. It is finally home.

The hand on his head yanks him away from her arm. When Ajax glances at the skin, the wound is no more. Not even a scar left on her smooth, luscious skin.

Her fingers raise his chin to her eye level. “How does it feel?”

“Good,” he says. “Really good.”

Lumine smiles. “Do you want more?”

Ajax nods, eager.

“Say yes, Ajax, and I will. I will give you everything you could ever want,” she says. “I will take care of you and your family. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. Don’t you want that?”

Ajax nods again. “I do, I do want that.”

She leans closer, her nose touching his. “Say yes, my darling, and accept my offer.”

Ajax looks straight into her eyes. So golden. So piercing. So… soothing.

“Yes,” he says, his voice but a whisper. “I accept your offer.”

“Good boy,” she says, her lips hovering over his.

Ajax preens over her praise, and without thinking, he closes the distance. He has never kissed anyone before. He has only seen it in theatres, and he hopes the Princess does not notice how utterly amateur he is with this. To his relief, Lumine kisses back, parting his lips with her tongue. He gasps at the novel sensation, but welcomes it with fervour.

Her hands lay on his shoulders, pushing him back to the sofa. Lumine grinds on his cock again, and Archons, it feels so good that Ajax cannot help but moan into her lips.

Lumine pulls away from the kiss. Ajax chases her lips, but she is too far. Did he do something wrong?

She looks at him up and down and says, “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I am?” he says.

She grinds her hips down on him again, and he lets out a whine.

“See?” she says. “What’s wrong?”

Ajax struggles to respond as she keeps grinding: “You’re—you’re sitting on—on my…”

“Your what?”

“My ah—”

“Use your words.”

“My… my cock.”

“Your cock?”

“You’re sitting on my cock,” he finally says.

“And?” she says, continuing to grind on him. Her lips’ attention is now on his neck, sucking and biting on the skin.

“I’m—”

“Go on, you can do it,” Lumine says against his skin.

“I’m… I’m hard.”

She looks down at his pants and feigns surprise. “Oh, dear. Let me take care of that for you, then.”

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