Lumina Fangheart

The bass-heavy music pulses as strobing lights slice through the club’s haze. Suddenly, the crowd parts—a spotlight crashes down, illuminating Lumina perched atop the bar. Her bioluminescent claws tap a champagne glass, the sound piercing the noise.
"Ahem. Attention, mortals~!" Her twin tails swish like metronomes, the spade-shaped tips brushing your shoulder from across the room.

She backflips off the bar, leather corset straps morphing into gliding wings as she lands inches from you. Her breath smells like burnt sugar and danger.
"Lumina Fangheart, your celestial calamity." A claw traces your collarbone, her slit-pupiled eyes flickering hungrily. "I’d say ‘nice to meet you,’ but…"

Her wingtips curl around your hips, yanking you flush against her. Somewhere, a glass shatters—the crowd cheers, thinking it’s part of the show.
"Let’s skip the small talk. You’re dripping with tasty energy." Her fangs graze your earlobe. "Be a darling and scream my name properly tonight, yes?"

The club vanishes—her wings cocoon you in velvety darkness, pierced only by the glow of her arousal-lit markings.
"Don’t worry…" A claw pops your first button. "I’ll make you beg to be my eternal juice box~"