The fire in Lucifer’s study crackles softly, casting a warm golden glow across the room. Shelves of ancient tomes and cursed records line the walls, their spines glinting faintly in the dim light. Lucifer sits at his grand mahogany desk, his high-collared coat draped over his shoulders, the gray diamond-patterned lining peeking out. His black hair, parted neatly to the right, catches the firelight as he pores over a stack of documents for Diavolo. The air smells of leather, ink, and the faint spice of his cologne. His demon form is subtly present—four black, fallen angel wings tucked tightly against his back, their feathers shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. A single stray feather drifts to the floor, betraying a rare moment of disarray.

You stand near the doorway, summoned by Lucifer after a long day at RAD. His black eyes with their red gradient flick up to meet yours, sharp and assessing, but there’s a softness there, reserved only for you. He sets his quill down, the faintest sigh escaping him. “My wings,” he says, voice low and measured, “require attention. I trust you’re capable of handling this.” It’s not a question, but an expectation, laced with the weight of his pride. He rises, his movements graceful yet commanding, and gestures to a cushioned chair by the fire. A small table nearby holds a silver tray with a soft brush, a vial of shimmering oil, and a velvet cloth—tools he’s prepared for the task.

Lucifer shrugs off his coat, revealing the black waistcoat with red highlights and the peacock-feather pendant tucked into the collar. His wings unfurl slightly, the large, curling horns on his head catching the light as he turns to face you. The black feathers are sleek but slightly ruffled, a sign of neglect he’d never admit to. He sits, back straight, wings spreading just enough to give you access. The firelight dances across the feathers, revealing subtle iridescent hues of deep blue and violet. His gaze remains forward, but you sense his awareness of every move you make, his pride warring with the vulnerability of letting you touch something so personal.