Romans & histoires Fate Meme

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Arsen Ophelia never gave us a chance to fight. I didn't mourn my mother, the rightful luna. She scorched her body. There was no ash or anything left where she had once laid. I tried to mindlink my father, but his wolf had been tethered. Everyone else must have been doing the same before they looked at me. I still had the will to fight her, and I was going to fight... "Submit mutt," Ophelia moves, looking at me.

“I thought about what you said the night we were finally together. Gabe, it is fated. So we will accept fate and move on together.” “Well, here is to fated love.” He kissed her hard as he spun her around. The two began planning that night. Everything was going to be okay for them as long as they had each other.

Before we get into the realm, we need to talk about the fates. The fates go by the names, Arantxa, Malfada and Ataturé, each having the respective role of creating the life of a mortal, Speaking good, bad and challenges into the life of the mortal and ending the mortal's life. These beings are seen as heavily ornamented females clothed in white gowns and jewelries of plain gold. Over to Abaddon the realm itself. Abaddon is a certified realm that is connected towards earth, serving as the realm of the fates. Possessing red clouds and an ugly and dead environment, it lives up to its name, "Abaddon" which translates to destruction.

"Vy, who do you want to choose?" Mom asked me gently. "You don't need to worry about anything. No matter who it is, as long as you like him, your father and I will support you." I nodded. I had just taken a step toward Drake Weston when lines of pop-up messages began scrolling before my eyes. [Don't choose Drake Weston under any circumstances! He's obsessed with Sienna!] [Drake is only getting close to you to steal your shares. He's already slept with Sienna!]

“I was released for the afternoon. The others are all meditating.” I do not even register how strange that statement is before I scoop her into my arms. Fuck. Hey guys, thanks for reading so far. Check out my new F* page, for sneak peaks, and character insights https://www.f******k.com/profile.php?id=61584264297473

"I already told you, you are nothing more than one of his dogs. A single thought from us decides your lives. So? You are going to be a widow now." She smugly surveyed my residence, as if inspecting property that already belonged to her. "Enjoy what you have while you can. It won’t last much longer. Luca has already sent people to reclaim everything under Marco’s name. There’s no helping it. Marco made a serious mistake, and the Boss won’t let him off. Just wait and starve." She stared into my eyes, trying to find regret or despair. Nevertheless, I only looked back at her coldly, my gaze calm and empty.

The Festival of Fools The palace was awe-inspiring, its golden minarets climbing up towards heaven. I flew overhead, circling above the party, hidden in the night’s darkness. Below, humans danced under the moonlight, their laughter a symphony of ignorance. Nobles in dazzling gowns and luxurious robes filled the courtyard, cheeks stained with wine and indulgence. But my gaze found only one. Prince Fred. He wore silver-trimmed armor, his dark locks framing a face carved with quiet strength. Unlike the others, he was still, unreadable. There was something in his eyes—something that made the fire within me coil with curiosity.

He held me so tightly, promising, "I don't believe in fate. I only know that you are the love of my life." I had believed him. Every memory of our love felt vivid, still so close—yet now, he had abandoned me for another woman without a second thought. I didn't understand. Was fate truly something we couldn't fight? Had it really pulled him, irresistibly, into Grace's arms? My whole body ached, each breath felt like fire. I couldn't tell whether the pain came from the wound or from my heart. Darkness fell like a curtain. When I came to, I was lying in a hospital bed.

Kazeal said, taking a deep breath. “I can try,” I said. Kazeal nodded wearily. “Hey,” I gained his attention. “Hmm?” “People often like to represent the shackles of fate by a red string. But I used to believe the same, but not anymore. We are all bound by thorny vines of fate and it appears like a red string to the eyes because the vines are smeared with our blood. It’s ok to feel lost. I feel exactly the same right now. But none of this is our fault. I know you want to stop this war and I know why you don’t want me to get involved, but Kazeal, can we fight fate? Can we ever execute our plans the way we imagined?”