Watching Death Battle Fanfiction

Dala ng wala nang iba pang solusyon sa sitwasyon ng nag-iisang tagapagmana ng Multi-billionaryong kompanya, si Gabriel Aquinas, nagawa ng kanyang dalawang ama-amahan na gawin ang isang bagay na labag sa kalooban ng dalaga na si Serena Madison ang dalhin nito ang kanyang anak. Ang dalaga lamang ang nag-iisang babae na malapit kay Gabriel dahil pihikan ang binata na makipag-usap o makipagkilala man lamang sa mga babae. Sa una hindi malinaw kay Gabriel kung bakit napakagaan ng loob niya sa dalaga na kahit problema niya sinasabi niya dito kahit nga nililihim niya ang pagkatao sa dalaga. Ngunit ng may mangyari sa kanilang dalawa kaagad naman luminaw ang lahat kay Gabriel. Simula ng may mangyari sa kanila hindi na hinayaan pa ng binata na makalayo sa kanya ang dalaga lalo na nagbunga ang nangyari sa pagitan nilang dalawa. Ngunit ano na nga lang ba ang mangyayari kung wala namang nararamdaman sa kanya ang dalaga at hindi nito nagustuhan ang ginawa niya sa kanya? Paano na kung ang nangyari sa kanila ang dahilan upang mawala ng tuluyan ang tiwala ni Serena kay Gabriel? At paano na rin kung ang matagal nang hinahanap na kahinaan at butas ni Gabriel ng kanyang mga kalaban ay ang dalaga na naging malinaw na nga sa lahat? Paano ba niya mabibigyan ng proteksyon ang dalagang nagalit sa kanya sa likod ng maraming maaring manakit dito? At paano niya mapapatunayan sa dalaga na mahal niya ito? TAMING THE SUNSHINE @DeathWish [HER RETURN 2024]

Dahlia Amelia was a frustrated Aspiring Writer that her work was claim and plagiarized by a well-known Author, Yuki. The One Who Own the Deadly Glance, was hit for almost three months and become the best seller that earn a billion dollar. Several famous entertainment industry offer the publisher to adapt the novel into a film. Even makes Dahlia more frustrated. No one believe that she is the one who wrote it. She was offered to become a script writer instead to her own masterpiece. Drayzen Storm was the only living Dragon shift-shifter for a hundred decades. He was curious how the writer find his identity as the novel used his real name. Reader and viewr was aware that the novel was all imagination made. But Yuki died in hand of Drayzen as the writer of the said Novel. Dahlia was about to witness the devious event, yet she choose to ignore them and even cry at Drayzen how frustrated she is not to fight her right on her own work. Drayzen find out that she was the real writer. After a month Dahlia find out that she was pregnant with Dryzen Child.

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

When the fire broke out, I called my husband, Hector. He didn't answer. Instead, he ran straight into the flames—to save my sister, Emma. They held each other, clinging to life, while I was trapped in the basement, watching my calls go ignored until all hope burned out. Afterward, Emma played innocent, twisting everything. She told him, "Hector, don't blame Sienna. She didn't leave me on purpose... she was just scared." Her lie made me the villain, and everyone bought it. Fueled by hatred, Hector spat, "She's so vicious—why didn't that fire just take her?" Three months later, the police found my body.

In my last international car racing championship, the front tire of my car suddenly burst, causing the car to roll over. The cars behind me collided with me one by one. After 99 times, I was unrecognizable from the impacts. Just as I reached out to my boyfriend for help by instinct, he kicked me away, my body covered in blood and flesh. “Don't dirty my newly tailored clothes today.” He turned around, picked up the champion who had just crossed the finish line, and spun her around, smiling and saying: “Sharon, only the championship trophy is worthy of you. I will remove all obstacles for you.” Blood stained my entire body. Watching the two of them embrace as the sun set, I felt numb and desperate. What he didn't know was that among these red stains was the child who had just come into this world. At that moment, I gave up on continuing to love him.

It's my third day of being a ghost, and I feel like I'm going to starve to death again. The underworld messenger takes pity on me because I'm a child and secretly tells me that people like me, who suffered grievances and died with resentment, have to stay by the sides of the people who loved us most in life. Then, we survive on their "guilt". I lower my head and narrow my eyes. I choke up and say, "You might as well just leave me to starve." My mother hated me to the core. Why would she ever be guilty over my death?

Everything changed on my twelfth birthday. The brakes failed, the tragic crash, and the death of our parents. My brother blamed it all on me. He ruled as the mafia boss, yet all he showed me was hatred. The only love he had left was for our younger sister. He never believed how sick I became. He accused me of faking my sickness to get attention. He would turn to our sister with a gentleness I never received, he promised to save her, and he promised she would never die on his watch. My heart ended up beating inside her chest even after I died. He finally saw what was left of my damaged body after I was gone. The truth my brother never bothered to face would shatter his world.

My husband, a surgeon, committed a fatal error during surgery. In despair at the loss of his patient's life, he chose the ultimate escape via sleeping pills on the very same night. By the time I reached his side, his ice-cold body was already being carted into the morgue. His death set the beginning of my tragedy. The patient's family, consumed by grief and rage, turned their wrath on me. Their cruel vengeance eventually took my life. As my spirit left me, I came to witness a shocking revelation. My supposedly dead husband was, in truth, alive and well! While I suffered, he enjoyed a life of luxury with his mistress and his new family. He had it all—sleek fancy cars, a stately mansion, and a mountain of wealth. The discovery burned me with rage. So furious I was, I couldn't rest in peace. When I opened my eyes again, I awoke not in the afterlife, but on the day my husband faked his death. I had returned…

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.