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Shattered Doll speaks

ummi_mau
Born not out of love, but as a tool—a mere vessel to sustain her elder sister—Elyria was never treated as a daughter, let alone a human being. From infancy, she endured an existence dictated by the will of her family, their hands cold and unrelenting as they siphoned her life away piece by piece. Every cut, every transfusion, every forced surgery stole a part of her, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. The physical pain was unbearable, but the emotional wounds ran deeper. No one comforted her. No one whispered words of kindness. She was nothing but a living sacrifice. But when her usefulness as a donor dwindled, her parents found another way to exploit her. She was thrust into a life of horror—paraded like a doll for depraved men, her body no longer hers to protect. When she refused, she was thrown into a demonic underground circus, forced to perform in grotesque spectacles that twisted her very soul. Pain was once unbearable, but over time, her mind numbed itself to survive. She stopped feeling. Stopped resisting. Stopped being human. Yet, their cruelty knew no bounds. When she was of no more use, they discarded her entirely—putting her on auction like a mere object, waiting to be bought by the highest bidder. That was the day she met Veylan Blackthorne. A man of wealth and power, but unlike the monsters bidding for her, he didn’t see her as a possession. Instead, he was fascinated—haunted—by the emptiness in her eyes, the way she seemed to drift between life and death. And so, without hesitation, he bought her. Not as a slave. Not as a toy. But as a soul in need of salvation. Thus began the battle neither of them expected. Veylan struggled to break the chains around her, but Elyria was beyond saving—or so she believed. Night after night, she was tormented by the demons of her past, and as the shadows clawed at her mind, something inside her twisted. She stopped seeing people as people. Her hands, once trembling and weak, became steady. Her heart, once capable of fear, grew cold. And when she killed for the first time, she felt nothing. It started slow, a quiet unraveling—then bloodshed followed. No one who had ever hurt her was safe. The world that tormented her would burn, and she would be the one to set the fire. Yet, through it all, Veylan stayed by her side. He didn’t fear the monster she was becoming, nor did he recoil at the darkness in her eyes. Instead, he reached deeper—pulling her back, inch by inch, from the abyss. But healing was never easy. Therapy, nightmares, relapses—she was still broken, still haunted. Yet, for the first time, she was no longer alone. And when the time came for revenge, Veylan didn’t stop her. He stood by her side, helping her destroy the ones who had made her suffer. When the blood had dried and the screams had faded, Elyria was free. Truly free. And in that freedom, she chose him. Their wedding was not a fairytale, nor was their love story soft and sweet. It was born from the ashes of suffering, tempered by battle, and strengthened by survival. Even as her demons lingered, she found light. For the first time in her life, she was not just living—she was alive. And with Veylan, she would continue to walk forward, no longer a shattered doll—but a woman reclaiming her own destiny.
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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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