It's not about anything in particular- just thinking. Chrollo always seemed to want you to spill the delicacies of your thoughts to him, lapping up both your vitriol and your tears with that same, eerily content look. Too practiced to be genuine, too forthcoming from a man of his temperament to be anything but a caricature of humanity. Yet so he still seemed like the cat who got the cream when he eventually chipped off a piece of what made you, you.
You weren’t sure if he’d ever give those pieces back. It seemed like he savored every fragment he picked apart from the recesses of your mind, hoarding them away in his memories like a valued piece of art, a priceless antique. It was impossible to decide whether or not he’d peel away piece after piece of your shell until the soft, delicate hopes and dreams were laid bare in front of him.
continuation of this crumb, before i hopefully post the entire thing sometime later this week raaaahhh!!
//
You thought alot.
Apparently, Chrollo thought so too.
You could feel his hands ghost over the strands of your hair, the curve and dip of your neck, and the fluttering of your pulse. Licking your lips (were they always this dry?), you only bit back the instinctive flinch you felt at his too-cold touch out of necessity.
The memories of his reaction to your defiance still lingered. That was the thing about Chrollo, you mused. No matter how much he had, he still had to take. To plunder and devour beyond what he already had.
Sometimes you thought about what would happen if he grew tired of you, of what would happen once he dissected everything that made up who you were. Not are, no- you already seemed like a shell of who you were before him, hiding away in the introspection of your mind to avoid the way the pinpricks of his gaze burrowed into your skin, the way he savored the simple ways you breathed.
Yes, sometimes you think about what would happen when all the fun there is to have is gone, when the puzzle that makes up your psyche is solved. Would he still card his hand through your scalp as he does now? Would he brush his lips against your ear, murmuring sweet nothings that you barely comprehended? Would he–
You yelped, hands flying to where he’d gently tugged at the base of your scalp, his eyes flickering with… something before quickly extinguishing, his gray eyes once more becoming the ashes of what was.
The eyes very pointedly staring into you after he once more repeated whatever he had possibly asked.
Guess anon was too shy to pin you 😂 I'm sure they meant no harm
Could I ask for more Yan!Pouf? I swear that man needs to he studied fr AsfvxzsxzHsffujgx
COWARD!!!! COWARD!!!!!! BE A MAN AND PING ME NEXT TIME GRRRRRR /silly (i love getting tagged guys, i am hopping and yapping and running around your legs)
mentions of blood, "yandere" behavior/tendencies, pre-established relationship (SLASH NEG. implied that reader saved pouf from fucking dying though :)) ), non-consensual touching (ddoes it count as somno???? idk im eepy be nice), implied death, self-harm mentions, ALOT OF IMPLIED NOT GOOD SHIT HGDFJSK
"I love you." Shaiapouf mumbled, the melody of his voice mumbled by the plushness of your skin, spooning you from behind. His hands traced your skin like it was delicate porcelain, claws ghosting over your flesh as if it was an unblemished canvas.
Only he would ever be able to gaze upon it, to paint it with sacrifice upon sacrifice laid upon your feet like an oath, each smear of crimson painted on your skin a promised stained into your flesh with his own two hands.
Sighing, he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck, savoring the way you twitched in your sleep with every ministration upon your body. A frown smudged across his face at the way you whimpered in your sleep, hand reaching up to smooth the furrow in your brow, the pretty little pout transfixed on your lips. Enraptured, he lightly pressed his thumb down on the supple flesh, watching the way your plump limps sank as he ever so-slightly pressed his claws in.
Inhaling deeply, he retracted his hand back to simply loop around your waist, wings fluttering as he greedily drew you close once more, antennae twitching as he savored your scent.
Yes, you were something to be worshiped, ravished even-- you had to be, when you were somehow benevolent enough to pick up a diamond in the rough such as him. His hands tightened into fists at the memory of radioactive decay burrowing into his flesh, gurgling on his own blood-- before letting out a soft croon at the displeased whine that escaped at the way his grip dug into your flesh, mentally berating himself for daring to loose focus long enough to bring harm to the most valuable being on the entirety of this disgusting planet.
He'd sink his claws into his skin, rip through his scales and pour them like jewels at your feet in lamentation, subjugating his flesh to the depravity of his mind to make up for any self-perceived wrongdoings he may have committed against your sovereignty.
Burying his face in your neck, a simpering sigh escaped.
