Rewriting Fate In A Deadly Plot Novels & Stories

Every word felt like it was being squeezed out of him. I raised an eyebrow, like I’d just heard something hilarious. "Does it matter?" "The result is the same. I got my revenge. I escaped my fate." "And as for your destined female lead…" I paused. "Whether Alexander stays loyal is my problem." "But even if that day comes, I’m climbing over the plot anyway." I spoke slowly, shattering his last hope. I let go of his chin, letting him collapse forward. "Ethan. Wake up." "Not everyone turns into a loser once the plot stops controlling them."

she said softly, “we killed you a long time ago.” Something inside me cracked open then. History wasn’t just repeating itself, it was dragging me under, one breath at a time. Darren stepped closer, crouching until we were eye to eye. His calmness was worse than her rage, colder, deadlier. “You shouldn’t fight fate,” he murmured. “Else You will always die trying.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that scraped against my bones. “You die at dawn.”

Why the fuck hadn't she said anything about the inability to send minlinks while in the castle? Well, it seemed, no one was going to come to save me. It was either, I save myself, or I die there, in the hands of a royal werewolf stranger, and my story would end, just like that, before it even began. I was not about to let that happen. I was tired of allowing fate to have its way with me. First my father, my mother, and it kept sending misfortunes after misfortunes my way, generously. No.

"I wasn’t even a decent man when I was alive. If I’m some chosen one now, it’s a joke. It’s all bullshit." The Guardian’s tone grew even sharper, a sneer threading through the voice. "The life you knew is gone, Zane. What you think you know about power, control, is nothing. You—" The Guardian paused, voice dripping with disdain, "—you are the worst of all your past incarnations. The one with no morals, no soul, the one who destroyed everything, including the one you loved. Your soulmate’s disappointment in you across all your incarnations has led to this. You have one last chance to make it right and save her."

I knew they would not let Sophia survive a day if I sent her toward them on the excuse of work. We both left for work together, where I left her in the middle of the road. Maybe she got me, one of the richest men as her husband, but she will never be able to get a penny from me. She would live a life like a poor girl. That was what I thought. That was what I planned for her. To make her life hell before that phone call, that one call which changed my perspective toward her. It is well said that we will get the result of our bad deeds in this life. That happens in my case. I was so lost in my revenge that I never thought what if Sophia is not the Sophia. What if I am torturing the wrong girl?

In the final instant of my fall, I grabbed onto her, and the two of us fell to our deaths together. Then we were both reborn. In this life, we each made choices completely different from before. She got what she wanted, encountering the Mafia Boss's heir on a street riddled with gunfire and becoming his wife. I changed my own fate as well. Marco looked terrifying, but to be honest, I would rather marry him than spend even one more second near Luca. Vivian thought Luca was a gentle, considerate, perfect gentleman. Unbeknownst to her, marrying him was the true beginning of her nightmare.

“The fall. The crown. The fire.” Morwenna’s breath caught. “Elira?” “She opened doors she couldn’t close. And now the future begs for correction.” He raised his hand, and time buckled around us—echoes of Elira screaming, the temple crumbling, Leofric’s blood on obsidian stone. But I stood my ground. “I’ve rewritten fate before,” I growled. “I’ll do it again.”

The night grows deeper and the only sounds in the room continues to be their contineous moans and groans together with their heavy breaths. At this moment, the only thought running through Zarie's mind is that everything is in the right order for her and nothing can take it from her. Not even death or any other mortal. Hmmm... But no one can dictate what the future holds because the puzzle of fate is surely complicated, more twisted than we can ever imagine. Author’s note; Thank you for reading, stay safe.

"The more you try to fight fate, the more it comes back to bite you in the back." "I disagree with that," I said sharply. The words came out more forcefully than I'd intended, but I didn't care. "I was murdered in my first life in cold blood. This second chance I have had... I have changed things. I have defied fate." Dayo shook her head again. "Fate is like energy. It cannot be created nor can it be destroyed. The wheel turns, but the wind, situation, and road will determine which direction and the speed at which it turns. You cannot defy fate. You can only pass it to another or push it forward."

And how many more will die and wash back down to my womb, for this deathless mother to grieve? {No more. This time of half-hearted peace is at its end. From the ashes, a new dawn shall rise. A perfectly logical new world; infinitely smaller, more primal and more desperate. Abaddon shall be released from bondage and lay waste to man’s cities. The cleansing fire of pestilence shall harvest the mortals to near extinction. Only then can possibilities be granted exclusively to those who deserve them.} If the Fate Weaver has her way there’ll be no world left to go back to. I’m sprinting by the cafe towards the fateful backstreet. Just a little bit more…