Lucifer Prayers Novels & Stories

Nothing would make sense to anyone else. Lucifer, Belial, love, hate, war, blood, suicide, death, burning, hope, just a lot of random shit to be honestly, but everything links. I love Lucifer, and somehow I love Belial, but I hate them both, and the war is coming, and already there has been blood, death and destruction. Burning to death and suicide, my only ways free of this life. "You are not safe alone until he comes back." I don't bother looking up hearing Belial's words.

Her rosary beads, still wrapped around her wrist, clinked against the altar each time he thrust into her—loud, wet, relentless. Her body rocked with each snap of his hips, thighs shaking, her cunt slick and stretched, gripping him like she was made for it. “Lucifer—fuck—please—” “Say it again,” he growled, one hand sliding up her back, between her shoulders, pressing her chest harder to the altar. “Say my name like a prayer.” “Lucifer,” she gasped, louder this time. “Lucifer—don’t stop—don’t stop—” He groaned, fucking her harder, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the chapel like blasphemy turned into percussion. Her moans were music. Her trembling legs, divine offerings.

he called my name breathlessly. I snuggled tighter into his embrace as a response. “Let us pray for we have sinned against the Lord.” I raised my head to meet his gaze. Was he being serious right now? His eyes were still filled with desire and... I pulled his cock out from inside me and went on my knees, facing the altar. He was right. We should beg for forgiveness for our sins but I do not feel sorry for what I have done. Not a single bit. I shut my eyes and pressed my palms together in a plea. “Dear father in heaven,” I began my prayers. “Thank you for bringing me Father Lucian. Thank you for giving him to me.”

Moments later the Pianist began to press the piece. Ely lowered the bottle of wine and suddenly glanced at the first stanza of Lucy's singing. Lucifer's voice was hoarse and full of emotion. It was as if he was talking to people inside the Bar and it was all part of his life. Lucifer got an orphan. Ely closes her eyes and listens to her voice. She couldn’t fathom how she was feeling, because it seemed like there was a connection. He opened his eyes again and watched the young man with his eyes closed who was almost kissing the singing microphone.

Lucifer assured him, the weight of his words carrying the weight of a solemn oath. As the specter of untold atrocities loomed large, Asmo found himself silently beseeching the divine for intervention, a desperate plea for the forces of light to intercede in the gathering tempest of darkness. "We need help," he murmured, his thoughts turning to the hope of salvation in the face of impending despair. "The Father Almighty, the Archangel Michael, anyone... we need someone to stop this madness."

'May you find the angel who guides you to the far fields of fortune. May you travel with diamonds on your head made from the moon. May angels guard you till you reach the reaches of beauty and boon? Will you become my only angel from birth to death, and death to doom?' "You still remember this prayer?" Fate asked "We used to pray this all the time back then." "It still calms me down." Lucus said. Fate looked at him and then his book started glowing "Alright, gotta go."

I closed my eyes and lifted my hands as I started praying with tears cascading down my face, "God, I know you can hear me, please help me.. Help me escape from here... Please help Lucifer to find me... Lucifer... Please save me... I will be waiting for you... I will wait for you no matter what happens..

"Vera, just tell them. Please just say the name—" "There's still time," Lucian said, stepping close. His voice dropped. "Tell me who you've been protecting. Say the name. This ends right now." He leaned in. "Because when that Prism activates, the resonance will fracture your soul core piece by piece. And I won't stop it." "You'll regret this," I said. "If you turn that on, you will regret it for the rest of your life—" Something cracked open in his voice. "My biggest regret is the night I found the two of you and brought you home."

He lay as still as ever, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. I sat beside him and held the prayer beads tightly in my fingers. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Then I began to pray. The room darkened as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon. I focused my thoughts, murmuring quietly, feeling the beads warm and vibrate in my hands. A soft wind brushed my face—odd, since the windows were closed. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed harder, heart pleading to the goddess to spare Lucian, to forgive me, to protect my clan.

He was still the commander, still the man of iron, but with her presence, he seemed somehow more human more willing to show the cracks in his armor. Later, in the quiet hours just before dawn, Lucy found herself in the chapel tucked inside the eastern wing. Candles burned low, their wax dripping onto the altar. She knelt, not out of habit faith had long been complicated for her but out of desperation. She prayed not only for survival but for the strength to keep standing beside Gabriel, to be more than just a symbol. When she rose, Gabriel was there in the doorway, watching. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was soft. “I didn’t take you for one who prayed.”