Which Godly Parent Do I Have Novels & Stories

No one wanted me when my parents died. “Don’t say that. Every child is a blessing. If you can’t be a partner to Amee, at least, be a good father.”

I was all ears to what he had to say next "I believe the reason he ignored the fated mate bond was because there wasn't one for him, Children of gods get punished harshly for their parents behavior, even more so when they follow them blindly after getting a second chance"

Grandma looked at me with an unflinching look. "So you came to your conclusion? Because of my words, you think that it was your father who saved you when you drowned?" she asked in a quiet voice. I nodded innocently. Grandma once said that when I asked her what parents meant in a child's life. "I'm sorry, Richie. But one thing I need to clear up here: sometimes there are times when your parents can't help you at the right time. When that happens, sometimes God sends someone else instead. Like what you're going through when your father might have intended to help you, but he was just outrun by James.

That was the worst news Myriam could receive. "Look for a close relative to you, perhaps the father of the child," the doctor recommended. Myriam blinked, and suddenly a shiver ran down her spine, she wasn't sure who the father of her child was, because she couldn't remember anything that happened that night. "I'll look for a relative," she whispered, feeling a lump in his throat. Then she kissed Tony's hand. "I won't let you die, I swear you're going to live," she sentenced.

All the memories of my past with my parents keep rewinding in my head. “Yeah. They really treat you like you are their own.” Mother said and smiled. I nodded. “I missed them,” I murmured and sighed deeply. Mother gave me a faint smile. “Do you have more questions?” Mother asked. “Uh, yeah. Before I forgot, mother, who was really our father? Why would the Almighty God give him the orbs of life and death?” I asked curiously. To me, our father isn't just an ordinary man. He was really mysterious.

The question hung over our heads, and my mind almost exploded. “So which of her parents was a celestial being? And what kind of a celestial being?” I asked, causing her to beam. “Her dad is a Seraph. Which makes our little Eden a Nephilim."

said Hermes, his voice getting firm again, "whatever it takes. Assemble everyone you have plus we've got the Heir of the gods on our side." Natasha nodded mildly, momentarily wondering what kind of joke this was but then one question that nobody seemed to ask kept relaying itself. If I'm the Heir of the gods, then who is my literal ‘god’ parent? Surely if she did indeed have celestial blood in her then didn't that mean that her parents had to have been gods too? But her mother was the most humanly person ever, always worrying about her and commiting herself to her work as a doctor—so she couldn't have been a god. Then there was her father who had had similar powers just like hers but he was.

“I’m uh…god I’m really nervous about it, I can’t lie.” “You’re gonna be a great mom.” “Am I? Because…I’m realizing I don’t have any really good parental figures in my life. I mean my mother is a raging narcissist who is going to marry a man child. And um, my stepmother is a homewrecker, but wants to be like really polite. And then of course there’s my dad. My alcoholic father who would just smash glass every chance he got. I could be like any of them.” “You’re not going to be like that,” Lee said softly. “That’s not who you are.”

He ripped his hand off as he yelled straight at Hades himself. "No you're wrong, how many times have I've told you are parents don't defy who we ar—" "I don't know where you get that stupid phrase from because you know Damn well WE DON'T HAVE PARENTS. We're Orphans. " "We may be Orphans, but we are blessed to have parent figures— Enya, Remington, Mr and Mrs Underwind, even Artemis. If you can't see that,then I don't know what to tell you. " I walked away tears already form in my orbs and shriveled down to my cheek.

You don’t expect it to be written across your test results in capital letters. I don’t even know where it came from. There’s no family history, at least not that I know of. My mom’s too busy asking the nurses at her care home if I’ve sent her money this week. My dad’s always confused. He forgets who I am half the time. I’m the only child. No siblings. Just me. And now, just this. This body. This broken clock of a body that ticks in the wrong direction. “Shit,” I hiss.