Bleach Male Oc Fanfiction Mga Nobela at Kwento

In my previous life, my parents made me choose a bride from the three most powerful families in the capital. I did not hesitate. I chose the one I loved most: Holly Smith. However, on our wedding day, she died in a car accident on her way to the hotel. The Smith family was devastated. Though they did not dare blame my family, I was consumed with guilt. I transferred all my assets and shares to them without hesitation. Twenty years later, while on a business trip overseas, I saw Holly, alive, locked in a passionate kiss with my former best man on the street. The other two heiresses stood nearby, watching with envy. "Faking your death for twenty years just to end up with your true love? Worth it," one of them said. "And Hayden, that pathetic lapdog, stayed faithful to you all this time. What a joke." I lost control and rushed over to confront them, but Holly had people waiting. They dragged me into a pickup truck and beat me half to death. With a twisted smile, she sneered, "You've got some nerve showing up here. "You wanted me so badly back then that you had Jack beaten, he almost lost his memory and forgot about me! "Since you came all this way, I'll make sure you experience what it feels like to wish you were dead." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my parents asked me to choose my bride. I pointed to the maid's daughter standing in the corner. "I'll take her."

Before the holidays, my old house was demolished by the government, so I received a settlement of almost five million dollars. The next morning, Lawrence Gellar, one of my buddies who hailed from the same village, invited me to a game of poker. Unexpectedly, not only did I lose five million dollars overnight, but I had also written an IOU note to Lawrence, claiming that I still owed him more than a million dollars. Dad rushed all the way from home just to deliver the money that was meant for his treatment. But he relapsed into his sickly condition due to exhaustion, which resulted in his death. Later on, Lawrence kept splashing red paint onto my home and caused a ruckus at my workplace every day. I couldn't handle his harassment at all, so I chose to commit suicide. When I open my eyes again, I see Lawrence sitting right in front of me while yelling, "Why did I lose again? Since you're on a lucky streak, you have to play a few more rounds!"

I was holding my wife as we slept when her phone suddenly gave a special alert tone. “Rachel, my whole body hurts. Please help me…” The message was from Daniel. He sounded entitled, and he even attached a photo of his abs. My wife pushed me away at once. “Wait for me. I will head over right away.” I could not hold back my anger. “Where are you going? It’s the middle of the night, and you are going to see him? He’s your brother-in-law. Can’t you keep a bit of distance? “Your sister has been dead for half a year. Do you have to take care of him like this forever?” Rachel suddenly raised her hand and slapped me. “Sam, he has post-traumatic stress disorder. You already know that. I am his psychologist, so what is wrong with helping him? Why are your thoughts so filthy? “Forget it. I can’t talk sense into someone like you. Stay home and reflect on yourself.” After saying that, she did not look at me again. We had been married for five years. Every time we argued, she would walk away and give me the cold shoulder. She knew how much I loved her, so she hurt me without restraint. She was certain that I would ultimately give in and try to make peace. However, this time, I did not try to salvage the situation anymore. My heart was dead. I did not want her anymore.

Five minutes before the graduate admission exam began, the campus heartthrob quietly slipped a crumpled piece of paper into my pencil case. Lines of floating text drifted across my vision. [The paper is filled with answers. The school heartthrob has reported it, and the proctor will be here any second!] [As long as they find it, his admission slot will be canceled immediately!] [Serves this bookworm right for standing in our heartthrob’s way. The proctor is his aunt. He’s doomed today!] The next second, the proctor stormed into the classroom and headed straight for my seat. “Someone has reported you for cheating,” she said sharply. “Empty your pencil case. We’re checking it.” Without a word, I turned the case upside down. A few pens fell onto the desk, but there was no paper. The campus heartthrob’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How is that possible? I–” Before he could finish, a slip of paper covered in answers slid out of his own pocket and dropped onto the floor. What they didn’t know was that I was born with a weird power called “Misfortune Rebound.” Anyone who tried to harm me would end up suffering the consequences themselves.

I worked overtime until the early morning hours and called my driver to pick me up. She frowned the entire ride. "You go home so late every night, and you always have me pick you up. You have no consideration for others." I found her comment baffling. "Wasn't all of this made clear when I hired you? The job requires you to be available at all times, and your salary is generous." "What exactly are you trying to say?" Chloe Morrison's tone turned reproachful and condescending. "I'm concerned about you, obviously. What good man goes home at dawn every day? You're probably fooling around outside. A man should conduct himself properly. You should get off work earlier and go home to do housework and cook. That's how you win a girl over." Her words irritated me, and my tone turned sharp. "Ms. Morrison, you're just a driver. You're not anyone to me. Don't overstep."

On the third month after our breakup, my ex-boyfriend, Julius Rowe, pins me onto the bed and ravages me tirelessly. But the thing is, he used to be very gentle with me when it came to bedroom matters. Scared out of my wits, I try to flee from him. "Stop it! You weren't like this before!"

When I'm on my break, I decide to help my neighbor, Yvonne Cook, fix the gas valve, which has been leaking gas. But she instantly lodges a report, saying that I've gone against the rules. She demands compensation for the shock that she's suffered as well. I don't bother defending myself. Instead, I just write a reflection report. After that, my squad leader sentences me to disciplinary confinement. Yvonne wastes no time gloating in the tenants' group chat. "It's time to teach these power-abusers a good lesson, anyway!" Three days later, a fire breaks out in Yvonne's apartment. Thick plumes of dark smoke keep rising from the burning apartment. Yvonne wails as she bangs on my door and pleads with me. "Please crack open the door and put out the fire!" I can only sigh from behind my front door. "I'm under disciplinary suspension right now, so I can't break protocol. You should wait for the fire truck instead."

"Shut down for rectification, fined $500,000, plus $300 compensation per customer. That’s the penalty from the Food Safety Bureau. Let’s see if you dare serve us gutter oil again!” Yves Larson, a part-timer at a construction site, sends me a provocative text purposefully, as though he's worried that I don't know what's going on. I just stare at the sign that says "closed for renovation", which is hung on the front door of my eatery. Never would I expect that the budget eatery that I've opened for the sake of the workers will be transformed into a blade that's aimed at me, thanks to the very same workers. That night, I sit in the apartment that my dad has left to me before his death. There, I spend the whole night smoking. Early the next morning, I head over to the bank and withdraw the money left behind by my dad, which is 260 million dollars. Half a month later, my eatery is open for business again. Work resumes at the construction site as well. Yves leads the construction workers to the restaurant at lunch. "I've taught him a good lesson last time. This time, I'm very sure that he won't have the guts to serve us cheap food made of shitty ingredients!" What he doesn't know is that the original eatery is already demolished. In its place stands a luxurious five-star restaurant. I stand in front of the main entrance as I perform a welcoming gesture to the workers. "This is a five-star restaurant that offers a private dining experience to you. The minimum bill for each table is 4000 dollars. You're welcome to dine here."

One day, I come across a post on the Internet. The original poster keeps boasting about the fact that all three children belonging to his older brother are actually his spawn. "The funniest thing is, there was once when he suspected the origins of his children. So, he got someone to take the children to take a paternity test. "Guess who he ordered? That's right—it's me, his most trusted younger brother! I get to sleep with his wife whenever I want. The money he earns all goes to my sons. This means he's working for me for the rest of his life! "Just the thought of that makes me happy to no end! Ahahaha!" But the thing is, I'm the older brother who's mentioned in the post.

In order to take care of my father, who got hurt from a fall, I gave up on my chance to get promoted and even took a week's leave. On the day he gets discharged from the hospital, my dad hands me a mysterious envelope with a wide smile on his face. "Thank you for your trouble over the past few days, Luther. This is a little token of appreciation from me. You can buy yourself a nice pack of smokes." I rub my hands together, feeling warmth surging into my heart. But when I open the envelope, all I see is seven dollars. Still, I comfort myself in thinking that the sum isn't important at all. It's the thought that counts, after all. But the next day, I come across a social media post of my younger brother, Felix Grayson, who never showed his face around the hospital during Dad's hospitalization. It features a photo collage of a luxurious villa, with a photo of the purchasing contract smack dab in the middle of collage. The caption writes, "I bought the top-tier riverside villa for seven million dollars! Thank you so much for your support, Dad!"