《Not Quite What You Meant (Short Story Collection)》This Little Soul Of Mine
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My soul is not something to be bound to another, my future is not something for some unknown force to dictate to me.
I've got plans. I've got ambitions. You don't get to pair me up and ship me out just because some stupid name shows up on my arm.
Yet here we are, despite my essays and protests, against my every instinct to run. Soulmate assignment class, April 2022. I stand in line alongside everyone else with birthdays in the past month, marching toward the end of myself and the beginning of being only half of someone else's whole.
Maybe I'll get someone pliable and dull, who won't mind being tucked away in a corner and forgotten while I pursue my own life. It's a pointless fantasy. People with similarly strong wills tend to be paired together, for whatever reason. Maybe fate has something against one partner completely dominating the other?
Whatever. I don't need anyone. This is all a stupid waste of time.
The line inches closer to the stage, where purple light tinged with impossible rainbows floods the measuring space. A girl in a fluffy sweater sits there now, one sleeve bunched up around her shoulder, staring down at her arm as the name begins to appear beneath the influence of the rainbow light. Cameras focused on it display the whole thing to the waiting crowd, raising my ire all over again.
Bad enough to have your whole life decided for you by some unknown fate, but to make it a public spectacle is just idiotic. Are we not allowed any semblance of privacy?
It's all part of the system to keep us in line and have us do what we're told. If the whole neighborhood knows your soulmate, it'll be hard to pretend otherwise. Social pressure is powerful, and if it were secret it would be too easy to lie.
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Blah blah blah.
A scrawny boy with freckles stares at his arm with a look of relief. He's being paired up with someone else in the room, who hunches deeper in her chair with a look of disgruntlement. Mismatches aren't unheard of, but two-way reciprocated matches are the most common.
At least I haven't seen my name on anyone's arm yet. In the past five years, my parents have been keeping close track, just in case. Bleh. Sometimes you get forewarning like that, locals ending up together. More likely, they'll need to do a database search and ship one or the other of us off to a different district to meet.
And then, suddenly, it's my turn. I step into the rainbow light flooding the stage with a scowl set on my face. I wore short sleeves for the occasion, and sit with my arms crossed making no concessions to the event, as if I just happened to find a nice place to sit in the spotlight on a stage in the middle of a crowd of eager parents.
The loudspeakers announce my name. I see my mother waving and resist the urge to roll my eyes at her. I don't respond.
Then I feel something and my attention is drawn down to my arm. Words begin to appear, unclear at first, blobs of ink that slowly coalesce into sharper, angled symbols. I glare at them, still indistinct, wanting them to disappear with every fiber of my soul.
Instead of coalescing, the angles draw together, the blobs becoming points, then vanishing entirely, leaving me unmarked.
The room is silent, the whole thing caught on camera and projected to all the families. Everyone turns to stare at me.
I wait another heartbeat, trying to hold in the smile twitching at the edges of my mouth, to swallow the triumph that wants to scream from my throat, just in case it's a delayed reaction and I'm still going to be someone's bonded partner forever.
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The lingering moment passes and as it becomes increasingly clear nothing's going to happen, I get to my feet.
Then, everyone staring, I raise my head and let my triumphant grin unfold across my face as I finally break the stunned silence.
"I always told you. I don't need anyone."
Stepping down from the stage, I don't care about the hubbub that rises in my wake. Right now, I can't feel anything but pure vindication.
My soul is not something to be given away. My destiny is no one else's to shape. I've said it a thousand times.
Now everyone can see it's true.
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A Taste for the Finer Things
Dave was shattered, emotionally and physically after a car accident destroyed his throat, and his dreams of being a singer. While in the recovery ward, an advertisement recommended vr as a place he'd still be able to sing. Excited he had the doctors make the call and put him in. Not planning to actually play much, he rushed through character creation, just asking for something that could sing and ignoring the warnings. It was only afterwards he realised he'd ended up as a monster. How does one balance the pursuit of fame and hiding ones actions? Find out in "A taste for the finer things" This is based off an idea off the five minute synopsis I wrote in the RoyalRoadLegends Discord Cover generously provided by Vsolon https://royalroadl.com/fiction/18430/a-world-beyond
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Just a disclaimer, this is not and never will be a story. I just, noticed I have a bad habit of wanting to rant in my author's notes, and have decided that, instead of accidentally doubling the length of each chapter with the author's note alone, I will shove those long-ass rants here. It might contain spoilers for my stories, as I usually wind up ranting about different parts I'm writing. So, if you actually enjoy my rants...well, firstly, what is wrong with you? Secondly, welcome! Time to figure out what tags to stick on this. Also, as of the second chapter, I have decided to shove some of my story ideas here. So if you enjoy half-baked, unfinished stories, then I got those too. I think that adds that short story tag?
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Melanie Donald was born in 2000: a less than average, ordinary girl struggling through school and stumbling through life as a square peg in a round hole.Blaze Thompson was born in 2008: a girl of immeasurable talent, who surpasses everyone around her and conquers every challenge set before her. In 2016, the city in which they lived was destroyed, and Melanie was killed. It is now 2024. Blaze is as old as Melanie was when she died, and attends a private school that was once a naval academy. She seeks answers about the true nature of the disaster she survived.What caused it? How could it destroy an entire city? How can this school, of all places, be so important? And if Melanie is dead, how can she be here? Of course, her search for answers grows just a little more complicated when a secret society makes the first move in its hunt for the two girls. A work in progress. This is only a first draft of a final story, and it'll be refined before it's finally released. Thanks for your patience. Updates: Later.
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For fifty years this war has ravaged the solar system, with Earth and her colonies struggling to fight against the guerrilla forces of the Pro-Independence regime started by the governments of Mercury, Saturn and Pluto. The war was hard fought, and both sides lost uncountable lives. But the war is coming to a close. Ironclad, Earth's elite branch of the Navy are closing in on the remaining Pro-Independence leaders hiding on Titan and don't plan on letting anyone escape without a fight.
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His Possession
[Completed] [EDITED]*REALLY MATURE THEME* *MIGHT TRIGGER SOME* Jaxon Hunt.Gangster.Fighter.Player.Drug dealer.Jordan Johnson.Starting college.Sweet, sometimes.Smart mouth.Makes friends everyday without trying.And keeps Jaxon coming back for her. She makes him want to have her by his side the whole time and gets very possessive of her. ••••••••••"I can easily kill you. You don't know my life and you don't know what I live for. And you don't know what I do. So I can easily kill you with this." Then out of the blue he pulled out a gun. A fuckin gun.My eyes grew huge and held the knife tighter. "Get out." I hissed.He smirked then place the gun next to my head. "Now why would I want to leave?""Because it's my house and I'm kicking you out." Then I placed the knife on his stomach. He looked down and then looked back at me. His smirk grew bigger. "Want to play that game?"...*highest rank so far- number 3 (08-23-17)**needs tissues and torches later on* *Mature theme**Cussing*
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