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To Kill A Mockingbird Time Span Of

The Villianess story: A 100 ways to kill your husband

"Are you not scared it might be poisoned?" Abrielle's asked Cedric who drank the wine without hesitation. Cedric leaned closer to her with his head crooked on her neck, his warm intoxicating breath trickling on her skin. His hoarse voice came out lightly. "If the poison is given by my wife, I will drink it without hesitation. It will be an honour to die in your hands." Abrielle's mouth fell agape, stunned by his words. What was wrong with his head? Cedric then bit the tip of her ear to distract her from her thoughts. "Now I have done your bidding, dear wife; it is time you do mine. How about we get rid of this restriction on your body?" Abrielle's face flushed red. This sly scum. She could not wait to kill him. **** Being transmigrated to your favourite novel would be anyone's dream, well, except for Hazel. Hazel, a world-class writer, was transmigrated into her book, "The Dragons and the priestess." after she died in an unfortunate accident a day before her first date with her long-time crush. She was already cussing her luck until she was hit by a double tragedy. Hazel was now Abrielle, the Villainess of the novel, who was destined to die at her husband's hand, Prince Cedric. Struck with this tragedy, Abrielle attempted to escape the border before her wedding but failed miserably. Forced to marry the heartless first prince of Darconia in a marriage that could only be broken with death as the escape, Abrielle came up with another plan."A hundred ways to kill her husband." Abrielle, who finds herself in the middle of the messed up plot of her novel, tries to navigate this world by trying several methods to kill her husband because she refuses to die by her creation's hand. But why does, despite multiple attempts of trying to kill this heartless prince, he refuse to die and just keeps on bothering Abrielle? He should be interested in the female lead and not the villainess! Why don't you join this epic journey and see how Abrielle's and Cedric's story unfold? Would she be able to escape her fate? ***** Note: Abrielle's story starts from the pre-sequel of her actual book The Dragons and the priestess where she discovers how different this world is from her actual book. She tries to navigate the unknown from a disadvantaged stand as a weak talentless noble lady before the actual plot starts **** Please this is my first ever cupid quill entry please support
jodiekesh27 · 120.4K Views

WHAT! I Have To Kill Heaven's Son To Live!

For as long as Reon could remember, his life had been a monotonous cycle of solitude. A loner to the core, he buried himself in his studies and part-time jobs just to get by. No family. No friends. No joy. No sorrow. Just an empty existence. But fate had other plans. Reon suddenly found himself transmigrated into the world of a novel he had read, all because of a complaint about the Protagonist. However, he wasn’t reborn as the protagonist, a powerful supporting character or even a notable figure. No, fate had saddled him with the most pitiful role imaginable: A Villain! No, he wasn’t the villain who sparked fear to everyone or the rival who challenged the protagonist’s growth. No, he was that guy—the one who gets a single line of dialogue before being obliterated, his only purpose to highlight the hero’s strength. The kind of character readers would roll their eyes at and skip over without a second thought. Yes, he had become that kind of background character—cannon fodder, a disposable pawn, a nameless lackey serving under a third-rate villain! The worst kind of cliché—a spineless dog for a spoiled young master from a powerful family, wagging his tail at every order. The one whose destiny was to be manipulated and die a dog's death long before the main story even began. How could fate be so cruel? So petty?! But Reon wasn’t about to accept this. Not again. This time he wasn’t the Reon who had wasted away his first life. A world once confined to the pages of a novel had become his reality—a realm where strength commands respect, and the weak are trampled underfoot like insignificant ants. If this world wanted him to live like a dog and die like a stepping stone, it was dead wrong. This time, Reon resolved to live life to the fullest—to fight, to laugh, to love, to revel in the chaos of this fantasy world filled with magic, swords, and cultivation. No one would stop him from seizing his happiness. Not Fate. Not the so-called Protagonists. Not even Heaven itself. And if anyone dared to stand in his way? He would break the rules, exploit the extras, manipulate the main characters, and twist the very fabric of the story to serve his own ends. He would plunder the opportunities meant for the protagonist, destroy threats before they could rise, and rewrite his destiny with his own hands—whatever it took to carve out his path to survive. Would the main characters suffer? Who cares? Would the story change? Even better. This time, he would live without regrets. A glass of wine in one hand, a woman in the other, and unshakable strength beneath his feet. That was the plan… until the system arrived. . . . [Ding! The Host has awakened the Heaven Plundering System! If the host wishes to survive in this world, he must kill Heaven’s Child.] . . . WHAAT! . . . --------------------WARNING------------------- . . . . If you prefer a dense, shy, beta, submissive protagonist, then this novel is not for you. Here, the main character will be Domineering, Ruthless, Calm, Intelligent, Cunning, and Alpha-type—caring only for his loved ones while remaining cold toward the rest of the world. Additionally, female leads will be Strong, Intelligent, and Loyal—not merely waiting for the main character to come and rescue them like a fairytale prince. The harem in this story will be large, with each member being capable and equally important to the plot. Every character will have their own significance and development, contributing meaningfully to the story. . . . NO NTR!! NO YURI!! NO FUTA!! NO YAOI!! . . . [There will be smut scenes in later chapters, it will be marked as (R-18) beside the headline. Minors, please exercise caution.] . . . °°°°The story will unfold at a slower pace, so I encourage fellow Daoists to be patient and support me on this journey. If you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to share them in the comments. I will consider adding them if I find them truly good.°°°°
MysticWanderer · 128.7K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 681.7K Views
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