褒め言葉 | 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
↳（ yandere ferid bathory x fem! reader ）
↳（ yandere crowley eusford x fem! reader ）
━ ━ ━ ━
➥ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, a girl suddenly finds herself trapped in an alternate universe where she has to bend to the whims...
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「 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑾𝑶 」 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒
꧁꧂
Crowley watched as (Y/N) eagerly began to eat the meal that he had provided her with, lacing his hands together and propping his chin on the back of said hands so he could be comfortable during his viewing. She ate in an elegant manner in front of him, he could tell, but he could also see that she was barely holding herself back from devouring what was in front of her. It was a humorous idea to him, and he almost wanted to prompt her to act as if he wasn't even there, but he knew that would hardly spur her to act as he liked.
She no longer trusted him anymore.
Even if it was just the tiniest fraction of an amount, it was gone.
It was lamentable.
If he were being honest, it was.
He believed he would miss the few expressions that she made whenever they played chess together, or at least the relaxation of her body that didn't display clear caution towards him. He pondered over whether he would ever see such sights again, wondering what it would take for her to be eased of such perturbation. Whatever it would take, he didn't know, but he realized that he would stop at nothing to find out what it was. Smirking to himself, he lay one hand on the table while the other cupped his chin, continuing to hold his head up.
His eyes crested (Y/N)'s features.
He wasn't sure why, but there was something about the angle of how she was sitting, how she was positioned, that stood out to him. The way she held her utensils, how her jaw worked as she chewed, the way her hair draped over her shoulders—it was striking, to say the least. He couldn't help but be surprised by this realization, as it was hardly something that was useful to him.
Yet, even as he tried to brush such thoughts aside, it just kept pushing to the front of his mind.
Hm...
Crowley drummed his fingers.
How intriguing...
Now, as he continued to watch her, he couldn't help but be exposed to how prominent her eyes were—those (E/C) eyes that were a stark contrast to her expression. Since, said expression was void of most emotion whilst those eyes still seemed to spark with something he couldn't quite explain. However, he could tell that whatever it was, it was strong enough to allow her to keep pushing forward. He believed that it was the very reason as to why she was sitting in front of him now instead of back in her cold dark cell either fearfully waiting for Ferid, or with a non-beating heart.
Strangely enough, it was pleasing.
More than pleasing, really.
In a sense, when he saw that, he couldn't help but be reminded of himself, and the idea meant so much more to him than he would ever have thought.
The will to live is strong.
So, naturally, she disregarded what she wants for what she needs.
How thrilling.
How admirable.
Crowley waited until (Y/N) was finished eating and drinking her fill before standing up. Rounding the table, his footsteps heavy against the tiled floor, Crowley didn't stop until he was standing right in front of her. She watched him as he did so, her brows furrowed and her eyes filled with suspicion, yet that wasn't enough to halt his actions. He stepped ever closer to her, his form towering over her own—especially so considering she was still seated. Placing one hand on the top of her chair and the other flat against the table, he leaned forward until his face was mere inches from her own.
"What... are you doing?" (Y/N) whispered softly, staring into his eyes.
Crowley didn't answer her, instead allowing himself to search those stunning (E/C) eyes of hers instead, able to notice the bob of her throat from swallowing nervously, the pick up in speed of her heart, the faster flow of her blood through her veins. He noticed all of that, and the more he did, the more he found himself utterly entranced.
It was strange.
So very strange.
"Crowley..." (Y/N) started again in that soft tone of voice, his eyes widening since he was sure this was the first time she had spoken his name. "What are you doing?"
"I'm... not sure," he finally answered.
"What?"
"I'm not sure," he repeated again, truthfully, as he truly wasn't sure of anything at the moment—in regard to her, to what he was feeling, or anything of that sort. "Do you know what I'm doing?"
"I'm not sure I would know," (Y/N) uttered.
"That's problematic, isn't it?"
"It is?"
"Because I was hoping for you to explain why it feels so... right," he murmured softly as his eyes lidded, continuing to search her expression for something to help clear up his own puzzlement over his action. "Or perhaps there is no explanation at all that either you nor I can provide. It would make sense, after all... as sometimes the most confounding things don't have a proper analysis."
(Y/N) swallowed again, still apprehensive.
Crowley's pupils constricted.
He could smell it now—her blood. It was sweeter than before, and much more aromatic in the sense that he could now somewhat sense her presence. Before, it was as if she wasn't even there despite's standing right in front of him, but now, things were so very clearly different. Then again, it made controlling himself from sampling a taste from her that much more difficult, barely restraining himself since he was still so close to her. He knew that besides her blood, there was something else about her that was far more tempting, though he himself didn't know what it was just yet. This was the most peculiar aspect of what he was feeling.
