'Til We Meet Again - Crowley x Reader

Chapter 8

1346, London, Black Plague

In the year 1346, a dark shadow fell upon the city of London. The Black Plague, a relentless and deadly disease, had cast its grim pallor over the streets and alleys. Amidst the suffering and despair, Crowley, the demon whose existence had spanned the ages, found himself drawn to the heart of the plague-ravaged city.

As whispers of the Black Plague's origin circulated, some attributed its creation to Crowley, the enigmatic figure whose temptation and mischief were known far and wide. But the truth was more complex, for while Crowley reveled in chaos, even he could not control the relentless devastation of the plague.

Amidst the grim backdrop of the plague-ridden city, Crowley found solace and companionship in the presence of a dear friend - a woman whose existence had intertwined with his across lifetimes. She had been reincarnated once again, bearing the essence of Y/n, the fallen angel turned mortal. In this incarnation, she had become a trusted confidante and a beacon of light in his chaotic existence.

As the days turned into weeks and the death toll continued to rise, their friendship deepened. They shared stolen moments of joy - a shared meal, a fleeting smile, and the warmth of companionship amidst the frigid grip of the plague.

Together, Crowley and Y/n formed an unlikely bond, their friendship transcending their celestial origins. They shared moments of laughter and respite amidst the tragedy that surrounded them. In a world besieged by death, their connection was a rare source of solace and hope.

They found comfort in each other's company, often taking refuge in a small, candlelit tavern that still clung to life amidst the plague's relentless onslaught. It was there that they shared stories, indulged in fine wine, and found contentment in the warmth of their friendship.

But even amidst their laughter and camaraderie, the plague loomed like an ominous specter. One fateful day, Y/n fell ill, her once joyful eyes now dimmed by the fever that gripped her. Crowley, the demon who had reveled in temptation and chaos, was helpless in the face of the relentless plague.

As Y/n's condition worsened, Crowley refused to leave her side. He sat by her bedside, his demon's heart aching with a sense of helplessness he had never known before. They shared stories of their adventures across centuries, and Crowley's true nature, once shrouded in enigma, was laid bare in his vulnerability and grief.

As Y/n's final moments approached, Crowley held her frail hand, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, my dear friend," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I couldn't save you."

Y/n smiled weakly, her hand trembling in his grasp. "You were the best friend I ever had, Crowley. You made my existence brighter, even in the darkest of times."

And then, in the dimly lit room of that tavern in plague-ravaged London, Y/n took her last breath, her hand slipping from Crowley's grasp. Crowley, his eyes filled with tears that no one would ever see, closed Y/n's lifeless eyes with a gentle touch. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss. She had been his confidante, his beacon of light, and his closest friend across lifetimes.

Crowley was left to grieve the loss of a friend who had touched his heart in a way he had never imagined. In the midst of the Black Plague, he had experienced a profound bond of friendship and a loss that would haunt him for eternity, a testament to the enduring power of love and connection in the face of the most relentless of trials.