Demon Slayer Oc Breath Styles

"I conquered nations and slaughtered gods, yet I returned too late to save the only woman I ever loved." Five years ago, Alex was forced to leave his wife, Sarah, to protect her from his enemies. His entire city considered him a coward who ran away from his responsibilities because he vanished without leaving any clues about his whereabouts. The Supreme Dragon King returns to the world today after he spent years in exile, because he now commands the most powerful military force which has the ability to destroy entire empires with one order. The homecoming ceremony which should have brought him joy instead presented him with his worst possible dream. The Forbidden Dark Arts practicing Mafia Don who controls the city operations as its crime lord spent his hidden life as a secret Dark Arts practitioner who destroyed Sarah. The demon used her body to manipulate her power because he needed her to achieve his demonic cultivation he ripped her soul from her body and left her a hollow comatose shell. Sarah's parents who now kneel before her torturer demand Alex to beg the Don for mercy because they want to protect their family name and they blame him for the disaster that occurred. The people who look at Alex see him as a beggar. They have no idea they are spitting in the face of a God. Alex isn't here to negotiate. He isn't here to explain. He is here to turn the city into a graveyard. The Don believes he is the hunter? He is about to learn that against a Dragon, he is nothing but prey. "You stole her soul? Then I will burn your entire world to ashes to get it back."

Jamie Aldridge never asked for this. He never asked for the system, for the power, for the missions that drag him deeper into Seattle’s underworld. But when life throws a digital demon into your head, what choice do you have? Play the game or get played. Simple. Except it’s not that simple. Because this game? It’s rigged. And the stakes? Well, they’re higher than Jamie could ever imagine. "Who the hell are you?" Jamie demanded, his voice rough with exhaustion, and his mind a tangled mess of fear and fury. The Broker smiled, a thin, calculated curve of lips that held no warmth. "I'm the man who’s going to change your life, Jamie. Or end it. Depends on how well you play." "Play?" Jamie spat, barely holding back the urge to punch that smug look off his face. "I’m not playing your game. Not anymore." The Broker’s eyes shone with a dark and knowing aura. "Oh, but you are. You just don’t realize it yet." Now Jamie’s on a collision course with forces beyond his control—shadowy figures who pull the strings, secrets buried so deep they might as well be myths, and a system that seems determined to push him to the brink. And just when he thinks he can’t take any more, life throws him another curveball: Emma. His unbearable bully of a wife. Pregnant. Yeah. Ain't gonna end well. In a world where survival is a day-to-day battle and the lines between ally and enemy blur with every step, Jamie has to figure out one thing—how to win when every move feels like a losing one. Because failure? It’s not an option. Not when his life, and the life of his unborn child, hangs in the balance.

The grand hall of the Phoenix family estate was filled with people, all waiting with baited breath for the arrival of the exiled grandson. Finally, the doors at the far end of the room swung open and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause as Nicholas strode confidently into the room. He was tall and mysterious, with an air of authority that overwhelmed everyone present. He wore a diamond encrusted face mask which only had two openings revealing his piercing blue eyes. His dark hair was styled in a sleek, modern cut, and he wore a tailored suit that showed off his broad shoulders and athletic build. As he made his way through the crowd, people reached out to touch him, as if to confirm that he was real. He was Lord Fitzpatrick favorite grandson, returned from exile after three years of being away from his family and his home. The family conference meeting was held in the grand dining hall of the family's estate. The tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides of the room, leaving a clear space in the center. The entire family, including his parents, aunts, uncles, stepmother's, concubines and cousins, had gathered and were now kneeling on the ground, their heads bowed in shame. Nicholas stood in the center of the room, looking down at his family with a mixture of shock and confusion. He had been falsely accused of poisoning his late grandfather and had been shunned by his family for three years. These people bowing before him were the ones who casted him away, made him an outsider. Now he was going to be their Lord and master. At the front of the room, The family's patriarch, his father stepped forward and knelt down on the floor. "Welcome home, our Lord."

“Luck is not random. It's leverage.” Clay Holmes was the statistical average of mediocrity, a man adrift until a catastrophic, improbable car pile-up, a cosmic anomaly, forced his latent destiny to the surface. Clay survived, not by chance, but by becoming the latest inheritor of the King of War Cycle, a living engine of fate tasked with maintaining the precarious balance of chaos and order in the world. This ascension gifted Clay a terrifying, dual power set. First, Physiological Regression, which allows him to instantly read every historical weakness, old injury, and micro-shift in an opponent’s anatomy, turning every fight into a perfectly choreographed counter-attack rooted in past truth. Second, Probability Bias: the true power of a strategic genius. Clay doesn't need to be stronger or faster; he subtly manipulates every stray variable, a breath, a flicker of light, a loose floor tile, ensuring the 0.01% chance of victory becomes a 100% statistical inevitability. But his awakening triggers a devastating war with the man who came before him. The Predecessor, the former King of War who cracked under the psychological weight of the Debt and the Cycle's constant violence, has returned to finish his mission: end all probability. Convinced that random chance is the source of all human suffering and the guarantor of future devastation, the Predecessor seeks to obliterate the very concept of luck from the world. To stop the Predecessor, Clay must master his terrifying control over luck and anatomy, leading him back to the Nexus Point of his accident for a final, reality-bending confrontation. The stakes are total: if Clay fails, the world ends in rigid, predictable order. If he succeeds, he must transcend his humanity, merging with the combined knowledge of every King before him to become the Consciousness of Possibility, the ultimate defender of human potential.

"Harmony..." he fondly addressed "You disobeyed your master. Don't you think you deserve a punishment?" He asked, his breath gently fanned her lips Holding onto her waist, he turned her such that she was completely facing him. He moved closer to her lips in an attempt to kiss her but then moved an inch backward He repeated this action twice and could clearly see her misty eyes. Harmony knew he was in a way punishing her and surprisingly, she yearned for his kiss Seeing his lips moving closer to hers, she instinctively moved forward but instead of kissing her on the lips, he kissed her jaw His lips rubbing along he skin. And then his lips met hers, he licked her lips...savouring her patiently. With soft and gentle movement, he slid his tongue into her sweet mouth .... Harmony is a girl with a forgotten past. Unknowingly, she was a catalyst. Someone meant to cause nothing but destruction. She was driven by her mother and was found by a maid who worked in a mansion where girls were being recruited to other places Lord Darian was a Domineering Lord and a fearsome tyrant. His presence alone was an enigma, he scared people without even trying to lift a finger. His cruelty held no bounds. The most powerful Lord in whole of Zludac. He saw her in his dream She was his salvation...or so he thought He thought he was someone who didn't need to be saved until he saw her Two lost souls crossed, their fates locked Will she still be his beautiful maiden knowing she was not only his redemption but also his end?

I narrowed my eyes at him and caught glimpse of a guy, standing in a corner and what’s weird is that he wasn’t dancing. He seemed different and odd for all this. He’s looking in my direction, very still and I can see him intermittently. The hat makes it harder to discern. Except for the creepy, fiendish smile, raising the edges of his mouth real slowly. I squinted my eyes at him. He tugged his hat from the right, an expression of a muted Hi! I nodded reflexively and opened my mouth to call Frank, who was busy with stuffing ice cubes in two glasses of beer. “Hey!” I called with my hurting head. “What?” he asked the glasses. “Who’s that? Someone new?” I pointed at him. Frank gave up the stuffing and looked in his direction. “Haven’t seen him before” he said with confusion. . . . Elijah Heath, an eighteen year old teenager was stalked by someone. Read to know who was he? And what made him behave this strangely. Does someone REALLY follows her? Or she's hallucinating like others say? . . . "Is someone there?", I moped around the dim-litted living room. "Guess it's just me. I'm making excuses to cease. No, Elijah! You have to finish this up!". As I ascended three steps, I realized a change in the air pressure around me, an odd creak and a clear presence of heat_ behind me. My breath abated. Just as I plucked the nerve to turn, my ankle was grasped and I slided down as some hand pulled me. My knees rubbed along the hard steps. **Caution**: Contains extremely disturbing content. Read only if you can stand murder and blood descriptions else you might feel nauseous.

They should have made sure he stayed down. Seventeen-year-old Theodore Cross knows his place at the bottom. Bullied. Broke. Beaten. Working dead-end shifts to pay off his dead father's debts while his mother slowly dies from an illness he can't afford to treat. When gang enforcers corner him in an alley and beat him within an inch of his life, Theo accepts his fate. He's always been prey. This is just how his story ends. Except it doesn't. An ancient dying werewolf fleeing from hunters finds Theo bleeding out and makes a choice. With its final breath, it passes on something that hasn't been seen in five hundred years: a Royal bloodline. Theo wakes to a new reality. Enhanced strength. Supernatural senses. And a mysterious Blood Moon System that treats his life like a game with quests, levels, and abilities that grow stronger with every challenge he conquers. But this power comes with brutal rules: The Masquerade must never be broken. The Midnight Council rules with an iron fist. Born werewolves see him as an inferior mutt worthy only of death. And inside him, a beast grows stronger each day, whispering promises of violence and domination. The people who made his life hell are about to learn a hard lesson "Theodore Cross is done being prey." From underground fight clubs to pack politics, from gang warfare to supernatural hunters, Theo must navigate a hidden world where one mistake means death. He'll build his own pack from outcasts and misfits. Face enemies who've had centuries to perfect their cruelty. And somehow keep the monster inside from consuming what's left of his humanity. Because in the end, the real question isn't whether he can survive. It's what kind of monster he'll become.