LightReader

Another Twilight fanfic

EmphieIsMe
WARNING: -Expect drama while reading this, please be patient with me. It'll make sense even if it seems it doesn't. - a lot of swearing/cursing - MATURE CONTENT(kids you were warned) - Gore -GXG/WLW/BXB/LGBT+(just the gays, so homophobes, respectfully... begone please) -Forms of abuse from mental, physical, SA, etc. (It may be mentioned as someone's past or present) - THIS IS AN AU, AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. Certain events might change or would not happen or have happened. Some pairings will have changes. Some facts about the story or the characters might change (Honestly, it's because I'm too lazy to research and watch it all over again) -English isn't my first language, so you will see misspellings and grammatical errors, I might or might not go back to edit them later on. -the frequency of chapter uploads depends on the mood really, so you might get more than one chapter a week or just one. Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT, EVERYTHING ABOUT IT, STORY AND THE CHARACTERS OF IT BELONGS TO THE ORIGINAL CREATOR OR OWNER OF IT, THE ONLY THING I OWN ARE MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. I DO NOT OWN THE SONGS THAT WILL BE INCLUDED IN THIS STORY, THEY BELONG TO THEIR ORIGINAL CREATORS (did I do that right?) AN: This is a wish-fulfillment thing. I ran out of stories to read about Twilight, so I made one of my own. I'm not earning anything from this, I still have this boring job and responsibilities in real life, so please don't... please don't pressure me and be mean. For those who are wondering why I even published it here, it's because I wanted to motivate myself to continue the story. Thinking that there may be people wanting me to continue this as well. Basically, means I just don't want to end up forgetting about this. ~~~ This is a story of a woman who was forcefully reincarnated to another world. She was just working, kept thinking of just disappearing, and not existing. The usual shit that sadly a lot of people also think like this. Waking up every day, feeling shit because, well... I woke up. Seeing all this, a ROB plucked my soul out of my body, and just killed my healthy(not healthy, bitch be living like no tomorrow with the junk food and smoking) body and forced me to reincarnate, refusing my original wish to just disappear into oblivion! Told me I should be grateful to be alive and some shit that sounded like a 'live, laugh, love' type of culty thing. Woke up in a hellish situation, don't know which universe he shoved me in, just a clue that it was from one of the things I liked, but that didn't help to narrow it down aa, I liked a lot of stuff... Some weird too... Continued to suffer my hell for a while, cursing and begging the ass face for the sweet release of death and hopefully meet the guy again so I can punch him in the nuts, and suddenly the door opened and when I saw who it was, I now knew where I was. 'F***ing twilight?!'
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Forged in Chaos: A Transmigrator’s Tale in the DC Universe

Waking up in an alleyway in Gotham City was not how Ethan Reyes expected his day to start. The last thing he remembered was crashing on his couch after a long gaming session, only to find himself in a world he recognized all too well—one filled with gods, monsters, and vigilantes dressed as bats. It took him a moment to realize the city wasn’t just a detailed dream. The distant sirens, the oppressive skyline, and the neon flicker of a nearby ACE Chemicals sign confirmed it. This was Gotham. And that was bad. Then came the pain. It burned through his veins like molten fire before settling into his fingertips. A strange, instinctual urge filled his mind. His gaze landed on the dumpster beside him. Scattered around were a broken switchblade and a rusty pipe. Before he could think, his hands moved on their own, touching both objects. A pulse of energy surged through him, and suddenly, the two items fused—the broken switchblade now embedded itself within the pipe like a makeshift spear. "Holy—What the hell was that?" Experimenting further, he picked up a discarded smartphone and a pair of cheap sunglasses. Another pulse of power, and—bam—a pair of futuristic-looking AR glasses now rested in his hands, displaying HUD information in his vision. That was when it clicked. He had a power—an ability that allowed him to fuse objects together. The results? Unpredictable. Some combinations worked beautifully, while others... not so much. And in a world where Batman, Superman, and the Joker roamed, a power like this was both a blessing and a curse. Survival in Gotham Ethan quickly learned that Gotham was not kind to the weak. Without money or connections, he had to rely on his ability to survive. His first breakthrough came when he fused a lockpick set with a stolen smartwatch—creating a device that could crack digital locks. He used it to raid an abandoned weapons stash, arming himself with gear of his own making. He also experimented with weapons. A standard pistol fused with a flashlight? Now it fired tracer rounds that illuminated targets. A crowbar fused with an electric baton? A shock club capable of stunning enemies. But Gotham was filled with predators. And soon, they noticed him. The Underworld Calls Word spread fast about a "mystic craftsman" who could create bizarre but powerful items. The underworld took interest. First came the low-level thugs, hoping to use him for their own gain. Then came the bigger players. The Penguin wanted to recruit him. Black Mask wanted to own him. And the Joker? He just wanted to see what happened if Ethan fused a grenade with a rubber chicken. It was Batman who intervened first. The Dark Knight, ever the strategist, saw the potential of Ethan’s abilities. But he also saw the danger. In the right hands, Ethan could change the landscape of warfare. In the wrong hands? He could unleash nightmares. The question was—whose hands would he end up in? Survive or Be Consumed As the months passed, Ethan found himself walking a razor’s edge. If he wanted to thrive, he had to be smart. He had to stay ahead of both heroes and villains, mastering his power before someone forced him into a corner. Because in Gotham, there were only two kinds of people: Those who adapted. And those who became stories whispered in the dark.
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