Let's get into it, because talking about inevitability in mythology and characters who feel 'fated' is always a ride. Ananke, in the original myths, was less about a story you read and more about the philosophical concept of necessity, compulsion, that which is inescapable. So when I look for characters who embody that, I'm not just looking for characters who are 'destined' in a vague way, but where the narrative itself feels like a machine grinding toward an end you can't stop. It's that chilling, almost cosmic force where choice feels like an illusion.
Moira from 'The Song of Achilles' comes to mind instantly. She's literally a Fate, but Madeline Miller writes her not as a distant weaver but as a presence so absolute she stifles the air in the room. Every character knows she's there, threading their lives, and the tragedy of Patroclus and Achilles isn't that they try to fight it and fail—it's that their attempts to avoid the prophesied end are the very things that wind the clockwork tighter. You get this awful sense that their love, which feels so vibrant and theirs, is just another component in the mechanism. It's brilliantly depressing.
Then there's a weird pick, but Paul Atreides from 'Dune'. Herbert layers on this 'terrible purpose' so thick. Paul sees the future, a jihad in his name, rivers of blood, and he spends the whole book trying to sidestep it. But every political maneuver, every survival instinct, just locks him into that path more firmly. By the end, he's not a hero embracing his destiny; he's a man who stepped onto a track that was laid down centuries before he was born, and the narrative makes you feel the weight of that inevitability with every grain of sand that falls. It's less about royal settings and more about the crushing weight of prescience as a form of Ananke.
Honestly, I find characters where the theme of inevitability is tied to systemic or societal forces way more compelling than just a prophecy. Like, the entire premise of 'The Handmaid's Tale' is Gilead's system as Ananke—a machine designed to strip away choice until compliance feels like the only possible outcome. Offred's internal monologue is a constant battle against that enforced inevitability. That's where the theme hits hardest for me, when it's not magic but the grim mechanics of power that feel inescapable.