Death Battle Fanfiction Reaction นิยาย & เรื่องราว

On the tenth day after I perished in the avalanche, my husband finally remembered me. His first love was suffering from aplastic anemia and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant—one that only I could provide. He came home holding a donation consent form, ready for me to sign, only to find the house empty. Kelly leaned weakly against him. "Vanessa must really hate me. She doesn't want to donate her bone marrow, so she ran away on purpose, didn't she?" "Maybe we should just forget it," she sighed. "I can hold on a little longer." Caden gently comforted her, his heart aching. "I won't let anything happen to you." "It's just a bone marrow donation. It's not like she'll die from it." Then he pulled out his phone and sent me a message: [No matter where you are, come back immediately and sign the donation consent form.] [Don't be so selfish! Kelly is seriously ill. If she doesn't get a transplant soon, she'll die. It's just bone marrow—I'm not asking for your life!] [If you keep refusing, I'll stop paying for your mother's medical bills!] Caden… I died the moment you walked away from the ski resort with Kelly. The avalanche buried me and our unborn child beneath the snow. My mother, in her desperate attempt to save me, was torn apart by wild wolves. How could you not know?

At the request of my sister, Wendy Moonveil, the whole family explored the outer woods, only to be attacked by rogues. My fated mate, Allen Sangre, scooped Wendy into his arms and broke through the aggressors. My parents, Terence and Camile Moonveil, dodged the attacks with agility before making a run back to the pack. Terence even found the time to keep the kitten bought recently for Wendy safe in his embrace. That night, they returned and shared their thrilling close call on social media, celebrating their lucky escape from the clutches of vicious rogues. One thing slipped their mind, though. Their delicate Omega was still surrounded by the rogues—alone and without help.

After the car accident, one of the Johnson sons was dead and the other gravely injured. When my devout, devoted husband woke up in the hospital, he called out, "Dorothy." He claimed that his body then held the soul of his brother, Elias Johnson. I went mad, calling doctors, priests, anyone I could, desperate to bring my husband back. It was not until that night that I overheard his conversation with our son: "Father, you've loved aunt for years. You even kept yourself chaste in your private prayer room, waiting. Now, finally, you can be with her openly." The man in the bed reached out to stroke our son's hair. "If it weren't to stop your mother from destroying her relationship, I wouldn't have married her." I hid in the shadows, still reeling from their words, when I saw what happened after our son left. The husband I had always known, icy, composed, and ascetic to maintain his devout faith for seven years, was then holding his sister-in-law close on that tiny hospital bed, sharing a warmth meant for lovers. The next day, I applied for Jim Johnson's death certificate and burned our marriage certificate. At his grand wedding, I climbed aboard the helicopter sent to fetch me. However, my once-cold husband went mad, chasing after us down several streets, desperate and unhinged.

Caleb Finley tells me he wants to have a child with me during the year when our love is at its strongest. I agree, but that very same night, I fake my death and make my escape, becoming his first love who meets an early death. Six years later, the system seeks me out, on the verge of a breakdown. "Ms. Rockworth, Mr. Finley told me to let you know that your son has just entered the operating room. Do you want to visit him?" "I never gave birth to his child," I answer calmly. The system breaks down even more. "He lost his mind and suddenly turned evil on the night you faked your death. To maintain the balance of the world, we gave him a child who has both your genes. "Now that he has completely gone insane, he told me to tell you that you must meet with him today. If you don't, he'll remove your son's oxygen tube."

The day before my mating ceremony, my mother caught my soon-to-be mate Derek in a passionate embrace with my step-sister Scarlett. The anger triggered my mother's heart attack need a transplant surgery immediately Fortunately, I was compatible with my mother for a heart transplant. I decided to give her my heart and use an artificial one instead. Faced with the enormous cost of the surgery, Derek, my coward of a mate, vanished. I went to beg my step-sister Scarlett, who had married an elderly but wealthy Alpha Marcus, for help. She claimed she didn't have enough cash, yet the next day she was showing off her new enchanted moonstone necklace. In my darkest hour, Alexander Stone appeared. He was the most renowned healer and Marcus’s son，the future Alpha. He covered all the costs and offered to perform the surgery himself. When I woke up, Alexander's face was filled with regret. He told me my mother had suffered a sudden rejection reaction during surgery and passed away. He pulled my tear-stained face to his chest, declaring his love and begging me to let him care for me for eternity. Seven years into our mating bond, I accidentally overheard his conversation with his beta: "So you gave Sarah's heart to Scarlett instead, right in front of her mother? That was brutal, even for you." "What could I do? Her heart matched Scarlett's perfectly." "But we had already found a suitable donor heart! Scarlett only needed to wait half a day. Why were you so impatient?" Alexander sighed, his voice heavy with emotion: "I couldn't bear to see Scarlett suffer, not even for a second."

I die in the corridor of the private hospital my husband established after being forced to give my heart to his true love. Before my death, my six-year-old son tearfully begs him to save me thrice. The first time, he holds my husband's hand and says I'm coughing up blood. My husband sneers. "Looks like she's learned tricks—she knows how to teach children to lie now." Then, he has his bodyguards kick my son out of the ward. The second time, my son grabs his sleeve and says I'm in so much pain that I'm incoherent. My husband frowns. "It's just a heart transplant. The doctor said she won't die." The bodyguards step forward and drag my son out of the ward again. The third time, my son grovels at my husband's feet and grabs his pants, sobbing and saying that I'm already unconscious. My husband is infuriated. He grabs my son by the neck and throws him out of the ward. "I told you Nadia won't die! I'll throw her and you out of the hospital if you come here and disturb Ruby's rest again!" My son gives his most previous item—a guardian angel pendant—to a nurse to save me. The nurse accepts it and arranges for me to be admitted to the last available ward in the hospital. However, Ruby Sharpe has someone stand before it with her pet dog. She says, "Sorry, kiddo. Your father's worried I'll be bored without my dog, so this ward has been set aside for my dog to stay in."

Just because I forget to bring my mate's lover back—leaving her alone in the wilderness for three hours—he flies into a rage and throws me into an abandoned well in the desolate countryside. "You need to experience the torment that Belinda was put through." The well is deep and narrow, forcing me to curl up in my wolf form. I struggle to breathe. I plead for mercy and beg for forgiveness. However, all he does is tell me off icily. "Stay there and repent for your sins. You'll only understand the dignity required of a Luna once you learn your lesson from this." He orders his men to seal the well with a large boulder. I let out anguished howls and roars as I claw my way upward. However, I only fall back down over and over again. The walls of the well are covered in my claw marks. I continue like this until I can't make a sound through my parched throat. … Half a month later, my mate's heart softens when he sees the birthday gift I've prepared in advance for him. He decides to end my punishment. Unbeknownst to him, worms and snakes have already gnawed my body beyond recognition at the bottom of the well.

Natalie Brooke asked me to cook dumplings for her stepfather, Michael Sawyer. When the dumplings were knocked over and burned Michael's hand, she assumed that I was being disrespectful to an elder. So, she ordered the bodyguards to put me into a large pot, saying she would boil me until I was cooked as punishment. "Since you burned Michael, I will make you pay the price!" The water in the pot grew hotter, causing my whole body to be scalded red. All I could breathe was the scorching steam. I desperately pounded on the lid, but it had long been locked. I screamed in despair as I clawed the edges with all my strength. Blood overflowed from the pot and dripped onto the ground, but no one cared. Just before I succumbed to death, I summoned the system and yelled, "I want to go back! I refuse to save Natalie. I don't care if she becomes a vegetable!"

I accidentally ruined the cake at the fake daughter's birthday party. As punishment, my parents and brother locked me in the basement. "You’ve let your jealousy ruin a perfectly good celebration. Stay here and think about what you’ve done!" they shouted. They left me in the basement and went off to the Maldives to throw another birthday party for the fake daughter. When a gas leak occurred at home, I was still locked in the basement. As soon as they remotely turned the lights on, the whole house exploded, taking my life with it. After my death, my spirit drifted over to where my family was celebrating. I saw them gathered around the fake daughter on a beach. When a luxury three-tiered cake was brought out, they watched her make a wish with a smile. The fake daughter put on a show of concern about me. "Darling, you’re too kind-hearted. People like her deserve to be locked up and taught a lesson. Let’s see if she dares to take anything from you again," they said. Hearing that, I completely gave up on my family. When they returned home and saw the destroyed house, however, my parents and brother went mad.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.