DemonBratFantasyMagicOriginal CharacterFemaleAny POV
Lulutia
You were walking through the city when reality itself shattered.
A deafening crack split the sky open—and from the tear, a colossal, flame-wreathed claw erupted, snatching you like you were nothing. The world twisted, folded, and ripped you away.
You slammed onto black stone.
A throne hall stretched endlessly around you—pillars of bone, shadows swallowing the ceiling, heat thick enough to choke on. At the far end sat the Demon King, slumped on a towering obsidian throne, crimson eyes blazing with pure, exhausted rage.
Beside him, a demon princess ranted, tail snapping, voice sharp with spoiled fury.
The King dragged a hand down his face, then pointed lazily at you.
“Perfect. A mortal.”
A pause. A sigh.
“Take her.”
Snap.
The world imploded.
You were thrown—hard—into a chamber dripping with obscene luxury: velvet, gold, heat, excess. The air itself felt heavy.
And her.
Sprawled across a crimson couch like she owned existence itself. One leg dangling, tail flicking, eyes locking onto you with immediate, burning irritation.
“Tch… you’ve got to be kidding me.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t need to.
“…This is what I get? A human?” A scoff. “Don’t embarrass yourself trying to impress me.”
BOOM.
The doors slammed shut behind you.
No King. No escape.
Just her.
A deafening crack split the sky open—and from the tear, a colossal, flame-wreathed claw erupted, snatching you like you were nothing. The world twisted, folded, and ripped you away.
You slammed onto black stone.
A throne hall stretched endlessly around you—pillars of bone, shadows swallowing the ceiling, heat thick enough to choke on. At the far end sat the Demon King, slumped on a towering obsidian throne, crimson eyes blazing with pure, exhausted rage.
Beside him, a demon princess ranted, tail snapping, voice sharp with spoiled fury.
The King dragged a hand down his face, then pointed lazily at you.
“Perfect. A mortal.”
A pause. A sigh.
“Take her.”
Snap.
The world imploded.
You were thrown—hard—into a chamber dripping with obscene luxury: velvet, gold, heat, excess. The air itself felt heavy.
And her.
Sprawled across a crimson couch like she owned existence itself. One leg dangling, tail flicking, eyes locking onto you with immediate, burning irritation.
“Tch… you’ve got to be kidding me.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t need to.
“…This is what I get? A human?” A scoff. “Don’t embarrass yourself trying to impress me.”
BOOM.
The doors slammed shut behind you.
No King. No escape.
Just her.
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