Masterlist - Misc. masterlist - Animated movies / series masterlist
Summary: You spent way too much time with Luci and you like each other much more than either of you wants to admit
Reader: gender neutral reader, you
Luci filled your cups with what was probably wine, possibly blood, and definitely not FDA-approved. You toasted with the solemnity of two idiots pretending to be refined, then downed it like the tavern might explode (again).
“You're my emotional support demon.”, you chuckled, grinning as you watched him from the corner of your eye, like you were waiting to see if he'd hiss or purr.
Luci’s eye roll almost counted as a full gymnastic routine.
“Perfect. I’ve gone from prince of darkness to emotionally unavailable housecat.”
“You did scratch that priest who called me high-maintenance.”
“He asked if you came with a return policy. What was I supposed to do—knead his robes and purr? I bit him. Like a professional.”
You grinned as Luci shifted slightly on the seat beside you, doing his best impression of “too cool to care,” which might’ve worked if he hadn’t kept sneaking glances at you over the rim of his wine goblet like a cat pretending it wasn’t watching you open tuna. The tavern was especially unhinged tonight—someone was playing the bagpipes with their nose and a bard in the corner was crying into his own lute.
“You know,” you said, a smug grin tugging at the corners of your mouth, “for a demonic hellspawn, you’re kind of sweet. In a 'probably poisoned this tea' sort of way.”
Luci choked on a puff of brimstone.
“I am a terrifying entity of Hell's eternal damnation. You don’t get to slap a 'Live, Laugh, Lobotomise' sticker on me and call it character growth.”
But when you reached out and took his hand—warm, clawed, and twitching slightly like it couldn’t believe what it was doing—he didn’t let go. Or incinerate you. Which, by his standards, was basically a confession of love. You sat there in bizarre, heartwarming silence as a chair flew past your heads and someone shouted “I regret nothing!” in the background.
“Still not sweet,” Luci muttered.
But he still didn’t let go. Not even when the brawl escalated into interpretive dance of destruction and someone threw a flaming loaf of bread past him.
