celena.

CELENA.

AO3 | DIRECTORY | RECENT | WIPs | MUST READ!!

pairing - Roathe x Drifter!Reader

word count - 1009

summary -

'Tis the season of giving, and you wish to introduce the Devil of Tau to the spirit of Christmas.

or

You gift Roathe some chocolates.

note -

Mostly fluff, with some mature innuendos, but it never really goes too far. Inspired by some KIM conversations I spoiled for myself intentionally by looking up Roathe conversations online lmao.

The blue Emet Selch has bewitched me, body and soul and all that jazz.

Happy Holidays to those who celebrate :)

read on ao3 here!

You’re not sure why you’re doing this. 

The blue-skinned man hates everything that screams La Cathédrale - Marie, Lyon, and their praises of Sol and Lua. It almost rivals to how much he hates Albrecht. 

You have been very patient in forming a bond of sorts that is mutually beneficial to you both(dare you say, almost as symbiotic as those mycelium growth you recently encountered underground?). Moreover, Roathe belongs to an entirely different world (timeline, mayhaps?). So you are unsure if he even knows what the spirit of Christmas is - and you’re not exactly keen on discussing his lack of festive cheer with Marie or Lyon - given their ‘rightful’ resentment. 

But then again, your knowledge of the Orokin is quite limited, and never in your conversations with the Lotus or Loid did you bring up festivals or personal celebrations, thinking it might be a sore spot for them.

Nor are you sure if you can silently slip in talks of Christmas traditions with Marie. She’s a kind girl, but given her past, you understand that she may not be exactly open to exploring familial wounds with you yet. And Lyon has just started talking with you - he is such a complicated man, with hidden pains and you are unsure if talking about the holiday season will not cause him more anguish. He’s troubled enough already. 

So you find yourself at an impasse. 

To be fair, you’re not very accustomed to this world and its customs either. 

If it weren’t for the kid or for the Hex, you wouldn’t even know Christmas existed. Jesus wasn’t exactly popular in Duviri…

Or so many pop culture references. Thanks to Aoi for that. 

So you stand at the gateway to the Cathedral - unsure of how to approach this situation. 

You’re not even sure if it’s worth the effort. How do you explain to an Orokin man with amnesia what even Christmas is? “Hey, I know Albrecht dropped you in the middle of nowhere and abandoned you here, but humans have this festival called Christmas where they gift each other things, so ‘Merry Christmas!’”

Yeah, fat chance. 

You hold onto the fragile box of chocolates (arranged thanks to a favour Quincy owed you) and you contemplate leaving the Sanctum Anatomica. This isn’t like you, you reckon - but the idea of doing something nice for someone like Roathe makes you oddly nervous. The only source of confidence you have is the conversation you had with him over K.I.M. wherein he pretended to get his hands on chocolates by pretending that he was procuring the goods to land in Lyon’s good graces.

Huh, who knew the Devil of Tau had a sweet tooth?

You give your head a good shake and take resolve as you finally enter the La Cathédrale. 

(Any more squeezing and you’re afraid the box might’ve crumbled under your fingertips anyway. You wouldn’t want to waste the gift, after all.)

𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔

You find him where he always resides, in the east wing of the Cathédrale. He sprawls across the limited expanse of his chair, almost lazily. Treats it like a throne of sorts, really. Old habits die hard, you guess. And can you really blame the man who was titled ‘Vice Regent Grand Carnus’?

You have a lot of faith in a flimsy piece of loinscloth, really. That’s what you think as you approach him cautiously, almost as if you’re approaching a Kavat. 

You can hear Marie humming at the back, and the occasional sound of Lyon’s whip as you slowly walk up to him. 

He looks up from his book, “Hm, yes. What brings you here, Drifter? Here to kill me again?”

If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he’s almost hurt by the prospect of it. 

“Bah, look at your face. You look at me as if I’ve stabbed you!” he smirks at you with baneful glee. You roll your eyes at him as you finally address him. 

“Roathe.”

“Drifter.”

“I came here because I was free and bored. Thought that maybe I can have another go at jogging up your memories…”

“Oh how delightful! The human thinks of me as her personal plaything!” he grins, and his canines gleam almost menacingly under the candlelights. You take it as a sign to not egg him on any further. 

“As tempting as your offer is, dearest. I believe I am just not in the mood for it today. You must trouble me some other time…”, he drawls as he rests his head against his arm, a look of contentment washing over him as he examines you. 

You feel oddly naked and vulnerable under his gaze.

“Although…if you feel up to it, you may tire me out with….different methods and pursuits, Drifter?” he questions you almost innocuously, tilting his head to the side as he does so. 

You clear your throat as you ignore the blaringly obvious hint he’s dropped at your feet. 

“Anyway, I thought I’d do a nice thing for you. Humans, mainly natives on Earth, have this tradition called Christmas…”,you see how puzzled Roathe looks, and his expression clearly convey the feeling of ‘And pray tell, why should I give any fucks about human customs?’.

So you get to the point fast. 

“On Christmas day, which is today - they celebrate the birth of one of their deities, Jesus. He was a pretty chill guy, from what I heard. But in recent times, humans have taken this festival as a way to convey their gratitude for those close to them.”

Ah, fuuuuuuuck. You really cannot do this.

“I know you’ve been struggling with Lyon, so here,” you toss the box of chocolates his way and he barely catches it, sputtering as he questions you. 

“W-what is the meaning of this..?”

“You mentioned once that Lyon liked chocolates, so I got you some so you can give him. As a Christmas present.”

“Or not”, you shrug as you turn your back on him to leave. 

You hear the sounds of paper crinkling and you could only smile.

𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔𓌔

Bonus -

Taped at the very bottom of the box, a yellow sticky note reads -

Merry Christmas, Roathe.

The name of the sender is not there.

Clark who’s too eager to be together with you in any shape or form that he tried to not let it affect him that you always pull away from him whenever you feel vulnerable. How you use your body and not your words to express how you feel.

Clark who’s obedient and willing to let you use him however you want, so that you can fuck the stress out of your system and feel boneless in his warm embrace as you delude yourself for just one more night that you can actually be loved the way you’ve always wanted.

Clark who chants your name like it’s the answer to every problem of his life as you ride him stupid. His hands roam everywhere, mapping out each scar, each freckle on your smooth skin as he eventually grips your hips to guide you over the edge.

Clark who feels like he’s right where he’s meant to be, with you in his arms and with the soft scent of your vanilla perfume lingering in the sheet.

Clark who feels jealousy poison him from inside as he sees another man flirt with you at the bar, get touchy with you. Clark who sees red when that stranger lays his hands on you, like you’ve always belonged to him. Clark who quickly takes you in bathroom, his teeth nipping at your neck until you’re covered in red marks that scream of his possessiveness.

tw: stalking, 'coming back wrong' as a trope, obsessive/yandere jason todd, slight sadistic behavior, jealousy, toxicity, corruption kink, voyeurism, hints at somnophilia, nsfw (18+) content, dubcon content. read at your own risk.

MDNI. 18+ only or I will kick your shins in.

He keeps stalking you ‘accidentally’ while patrolling as Red Hood - in his previous life, he had been obsessed with you, his first friend and first love. He just wants to make sure that you’re doing okay.

You seem okay, for the most part. College and work occupy most of the time, and Jason seethes as you smile amongst the students that surround you and how your laugh sounds as pretty as windchimes when your friends distract you during a boring lecture. And how determined you are as you navigate the toils of being an intern at an esteemed company for extra credits and pay.

So this is it, huh? This is all he was to you, now that he's gone. Just a forgotten memory, while you move on with your life and do whatever the fuck you want.

Anger runs like hot lava in his veins as Jason feels jealous of how easy you have it. How he wishes you could feel what he feels, how you could've gone through what he had gone through because of Joker, because of Batman...

Maybe if you were just as damaged as him, he would not resist the selfish urge to take you all for himself...

But once you’re back in the safe confines of your shitty one-bedroom apartment, you grieve every loss you have encountered - starting with his. Crying yourself senselessly to sleep every night as you pray to god to ease your pain…praying for him to have mercy and let you have Jason back in your life.

dick is less than elated over babysitting a brat, but bruce says that being in the good graces of the most powerful man in the nation can come with its perks. maybe they can work something out for the problems gotham keep facing…

but when did it start feeling less like an unwanted chore and more like the beginning of a budding love? the more time he spent with you - you, who is full of life and zest and rebellion, still so young and so lost but eager to find her place in the world. you, who has never known peace, has always been the perfect first daughter, the epitome of subtlety and shyness - who is tired of always putting up a mask and wants to go out and have fun with friends - dress sexy and taste freedom on the tip of her tongue as she downs the tequila shots and dances wildly amongst the throng of people on the club floor, who dreams to meet someone new and maybe experience what it was like to be loved for who you are and not for what your dear daddy does.

dick who sympathises with your struggles and is always there to be a shoulder for you to cry on. who always carries you back to your studio apartment you rented out to gain more independence, away from your family that is slowly falling apart internally. who always feels tempted by the soft gleam of your painted lips and almost kisses you when you get a bit too handsy in your drunken stupor.

dick who can feel guilt swallow him up whole the closer the deadline gets. who knows that sooner or later, he will have to come clean and tell you that no, he is not your friend or lover or boyfriend. that he was hired by your father to keep an eye on you at all times - that all this time you were never truly free. dick who feels fear for the first time at the prospect of breaking your heart with the truth; he wants nothing more than to keep you safe in his arms and kiss you stupid.

you're wild and unruly and unpredictable and it makes his skin prickle. you're the only one who can get on his nerves in the best worst way possible. he has a tick in the jaw every time he has to pair up with you on patrol. you always have quips and sarcasm and flirty one liners to throw his way that almost makes jason's ears burn.(thank god the night life of gotham and shitty street lights make it easier to hide that he's affected by you)

Does recon (*cough* stalking *cough*) at his new date’s place sound normal - taking note of your daily routine, watching you go through mundane chores in skimpy little t-shirts that barely covers your ass as you bend over to take out the laundry from the washer and watching you enjoy a cup of earl grey (a woman after his heart, he says) normal? No, it isn’t.

But, is it normal for your date to come into your apartment when you call to take a rain-check on your date because your bathroom pipes burst open at the worst possible time and you need a plumber to help you stop them or you’d run out if water, only for Simon to offer his help and fix it, discarding his plaid shirt and distracting you with his biceps in that good-for-nothing wife-beater he has on (the one that makes you almost clutch your pendant in comfort as you try to call for takeout as you don’t try to fantasize about his big, muscly arms to have you in a headlock as he fucks you dumb)? Also, not normal.

But, Simon is not exactly a conventional man and after he fixes your pipes, being normal is quite possibly the last thing in his mind as he makes you cum on his thick cock for the third time in an hour, his fingers rubbing at your clit as you bite the pillow and make your back arch in a way that makes your ass grind against his pelvis and he cannot resist the urge to give it a good smack, laughing throatily as he hears your muffled whine at the sting.