Monster Girl Imagines

Lilura (The Demoness)

The chime of the live music keeps you steady, a rhythmic tone that your heart matched in an attempt to ease your nerves.

The restaurant was altogether upper class, with many famous faces, both supernatural and human alike, all dining together.

It's not every day you've allowed your friend to set you up on a date, and the first time you do, you end up here, awaiting a woman by the name of Lilura Ex'elea.

You weren't sure what to expect, but from the onslaught of constant consideration from the waiter and the chef, you were sure she was someone important.

How exactly did your friend know someone like her? You didn't understand, which made it only slightly terrifying.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and hoping this woman wasn't some homicidal maniac who kidnaps-

-"oh, sweet girl, I hope you weren't waiting long."

Glistening, paperwhite hair catches your interest, the strands floating to life and acting on their own around her twisted black horns and adorning her lightly pink flushed skin.

Her iris shone like gleamed crystals, reflecting the light like the moon and projecting her pupil into not a circle but hearts. Her pierced ears, which closely resembled elves, sat just below her horns, enlivening her emotions, and perked upward, and flushed a deep red, signifying her flustered state.

In her manicured fingers, she carries a bouquet, the stems wrapped with pink and gold paper and sealed with a white silk tie, the petals of the flowers a little frazzled and beat up, from what you guessed was her mad dash to get here.

She noticed your staring and bashfully presented the flowers.

"This wasn't how I planned to introduce myself," lilura snaps her finger, and you watch, entirely dumbfounded as the flowers began to bloom again, reforming themselves anew as she proudly presents them to you. "But my son insisted that I get you flowers."

Your interest piques at the mention of her son as you gently take the flowers from her grasp.

"Oh! You have a son?" You encourage conversation, not hoping to dwell on awkward silence.

Lilura nods enthusiastically, "yes, but he's long since been moved out."

She moves to sit, her elegance noteworthy as she swings her hair onto her left shoulder and crosses her right knee over her left.

You couldn't help but admire her. Everything about her was incredibly stunning, like every little thing she did was thoroughly thought out and planned.

Lilura raises an inquisitive eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smile.

"Stop!" She laughs, raising her hand to cover her mouth as she does so.

You raise your hands in defense and laugh with her.

Not seconds later, the waiter comes by, him, not missing a beat at Lilura's arrival.

He goes over the basics with ease, 'what would you like to drink?' 'Appetizers' and 'main courses.'

It doesn't shock you that Lilura recites precisely what she wants with no hesitation; she doesn't even glance at the menu. She has expensive taste, that's for sure.

When the waiter turns to you, you quickly scan over the menu, choosing the cheapest option feasible and a glass of water.

When you close the menu, you notice Lilura smirking; her head tilted to the side in amusement as she leans against her propped up palm.

You give her a curious glance, unknowing of her thoughts.

Lilura teasingly rolls her eyes and shakes her head, "waiter?" She calls, stopping him just as he began to walk away. "Scratch that entire order and give us five minutes." She offers him a kind smile and then turns her gaze to you.

"Sweetheart?"

The nickname has your stomach doing flips; she undoubtedly noticed the maddening blush that spreads over your nose and the way your pupils slate ever so. She practically had you in her pocket.

"Price isn't an issue for me; you may request whatever your heart desires."

You bite your tongue, momentarily forgetting the existence of your lungs at her choice of words.

She props her hand on the table and leans her head against it as she stares ever so intensely at you, viewing you as if you were everything.

Lilura quirks an eyebrow, sensing your flushed state within seconds of it appearing. Your emotions projecting like an open book for her to read and decipher.

You let a chuckle fall from your lips, "now you're staring."

"What can I say?" Without missing a beat, she shrugs nonchalantly. "I love to admire works of art."

Reach over the table; she offers her hand, her eyes gleaming with affection.

You all too eagerly place your hand over hers, and she continues to speak, more so explaining her thoughts.

"Art is to be understood," Lilura drags her other hand above your palm and gently caresses your skin with her claws, drawing slow, sensual lines along the flesh. "Picked apart with the eyes and made anew in the imagination of another."

You full-on gulp as she pressed her thumb over your vein, adding just enough pressure to keep your attention.

"Art, like yourself, has true meaningful desires and demands. It is I, as the viewer, to understand them and make them come true." Lilura gently guides your fingers to outstretch, following the lines of your palm with focused eyes.

She passed over the line in the center of your palm, her eyes swirling momentarily as she breaks out into a grin.

You could feel a tingle form in the pit of your stomach, traversing up your chest and straight to your heart. Her touch carrying a magical reaction as she sets your hand on the table.

"Well?" You began, "what are my desires and demands?" A simple question to edge her on, but she catches on.

Sitting back in her chair, she side-eyes the waiter coming back, prompting the five minutes to be over as he comes over to take your orders.

You almost couldn't believe how perfectly timed it all was, but you guessed that maybe, just maybe, she would tell you your desires and demands by the end of the night.

...speaking of desires...you forgot to look at the menu again...