Various Storms And Saints Novels & Stories

A Saint Reaper of Mafias, the reaper of those who try to oppose the sacred law of the Mirage. The old man smirked at him. "What a surprise, Saint! You've made a grand entrance again. You managed to find me. How marvelous!" he greeted the man with sarcasm. Saint's face blandly turned to the old man. Afterwards, he bowed his head and removed his hat. As he stood formally in front of him like a cunning soldier of his family, he started to speak. "I'm not going to read you all the notes. I can only do it once. And once should be enough for the front bosses to abide. However, your stubbornness seemed too enjoyable for you, eh? You still exploit artifacts that don't belong to you. For example..."

he stammered and I held my hand in his face to stop him right there. I had thought that everything with him was too good to be true, yet I didn’t know why, I must have been a bet between the both of them. Before I could turn to walk away. “ I can’t breath,” Mother superior said while gasping for air. “ We should go Emily, stop being dramatic,” The bishop responded while rolling his eyes as the mother Superior gasped for air. “ I.. am.. telling you.. I can’t,” she gasped for air while holding her chest as her eyes bulged and her whole face became pale.

It would scare her to the point that she'll lock herself in a cabinet just to block her ears from hearing it. Thankfully for the sixteen-year-old her, storms in Yves are uncommon. They would only come after 2 or 3 years, respectively, that's why those with water attributes are paid high in Yves to continue to supply water to the city, but when the rain does come it will come as a heavy thunderstorm, so heavy that it could fill up the ocean itself. Yet, when Celestin experienced her fourth death, her view of the storm completely changed. From it is the one she most hated to it being the only thing she doesn't dislike. Because from her first death to her seventy-seventh, the storm would accomp

After our family went bankrupt under millions of dollars of debt, I risked my life to protect my little sister from the ruthless loan sharks. She, however, floated above the squalor—a saint who treated money like filth. I was beaten half to death trying to guard the last thousands of our savings. Once the money was secured, she handed every last dime to a pitiful distant uncle. I saved us from the goons with a smashed glass bottle, shielding her all the way to the police station. Instead of thanking me, she called me barbaric, insisting I should have sat them down for a civilized conversation. I toiled for months pulling three grueling shifts a day to settle our father’s debts, while she lou

Sophia's POV "What the fuck are you talking about?! Twenty years ago I wasn't even born! Are you crazy?!" I snapped angrily. "I am talking about my body, Sophia," Callan said, his tone turning smooth, deep, and deadly serious. "For twenty years, my sex life has been an absolute curse. Every woman I have ever touched, every woman I have ever tried to take to bed ended up screaming in pain, passing out from the unbearable discomfort, or bleeding so heavily I had to rush them to private surgeons. Do you have any idea what that does to a man?"

Its only means one thing, he doesn't want to talk about it. "N-Nothing." I just said. I gasped and chose to go back to eating. "Not all servants of God are angels Mary. There are priests, saints and people from the bible who have sinned. Stop thinking nonsense. I-I am not an angel." I was stunned again. Saint even stutter when he said he was not an angel. I took another deep breath and chose to just believe him. "Yes of course you're not." I forced a smile before turning to Saint and kiss him again.

The storm that had loomed over Ember Hollow for weeks finally broke loose as the first day of the sacred consecration arrived. Rain lashed against the stained glass of St. Jude’s Cathedral, thunder rolling in defiance of the ancient prayers being murmured behind locked doors. But inside the cathedral’s deep crypts, it wasn’t the storm outside that carried power—it was the fire being reborn within.

“I had no reason to become as unreasonable as you.” “Oh, you had,” he said, maintaining eye contact with me. “You don’t have to deny it. Anyone who has read the biographies of the sixty saints can tell. Saints have been jinxed with the worst kind of curse — love. There’s bound by rules, then there’s bound by love.”

I’d forgotten all the glitter in my hair, I probably looked like a mess. “For god sake Jade, why do you look like that?” My father asked. I could see the steam blowing out of his ears. “The one time I ask something of you and you disgrace me like this.” I bowed my head. “I was with–” “I’m not here for your little family drama.” Right—the devil himself. Salvatore Domenico. His name alone made people tremble with fear, me included. Amusement danced in his eyes as he looked at me, but I knew better than to think there was anything but humor in his thoughts.

Demi-Saint! The realization dawned on Earl Greenfield that demi-saints were individuals at the pinnacle of power. Except for the Saints, no one could rival their might. These were formidable beings capable of decimating cities and causing widespread chaos. Compared to them, a mere Earl like himself seemed insignificant, akin to ants in their eyes. Despite his usual calm and composed demeanor, Earl Greenfield couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that a demi-saint was on his side. The reassurance of having such a powerful ally alleviated some of his apprehensions.