twenty øne piløts imagines

Spøøky Scary Halløween Fic - TJ

Right so I haven't posted in a while and for that I'm sorry. I've got about 16 drafts that are all half done stuff that I will eventually finish. I'm just really busy atm with exams so I'm slow at writing (Eg this was started in October... yeah) hope you like it regardless. I'll probably do a part 2 sometime or other.
I won't be on for maybe 3 weeks but after that it should be fic after fic so bear with :)
-Livi xx

~~~~

"What?"

You were startled. You knew your father could be a terrible man at times but this was really taking the biscuit.

"Marriage!? Father, are you serious?" You bellowed, shocking your parents, the stranger and even yourself at the power in your voice.

The poor spouse your father was offering up looked very out of place in your section of the castle. The theoretical shine of his brilliant white suit was dulled down immensely by the deep green light bouncing off your walls. You had wanted to go for black but your father insisted you stick to 'royal' colours.

As you shot your father the nastiest glare you could fathom, you realised, out of the corner of your eye, that your 'fiance' now looked a little -quote; a lot- scared of you.

"I think this is exactly what you need and what would be best for the kingdom." Your father continued, sounding regal as ever. He obviously didn't care for what you thought.

You bristled. He was always trying to guilt you into doing things you didn't want to do. All for 'the good of the kingdom'.

Well, screw the bloody Kingdom.

"I don't care." You mumbled through gritted teeth. There was silence.
"I believe I misheard you--"
"No father, you heard correctly." You continued, grabbing a coat to slip over your velvet dress (a dress fit only for a 'lady' of your hierarchy.) Shoving your not very petit feet into some study boots, you gave your father your attention once again.

"I don't know when you're finally going to admit to yourself that I am not you. Nor am I that son you always wanted. I'm your daughter and I don't want the same things you do. I never will Dad." You finished your rant by petulantly crossing your arms over your chest. Your father gave a hesitant smile down at you before stepping over and you wondered if he was finally coming to his senses.

"It's ok darling," He whispered and reached out a hand to softly stroke back your long, freshly dyed, pastel hair and it was as if the Gods were taking pity on you. He seemed to understand; finally!

You leapt onto him, pulling him close into a tight hug - which he returned once the surprise passed. He continued stroking your hair calmingly and pressed his lips to your ear.

"Princess, you will get used to the idea."

And the moment was ruined. You pushed at way from him angrily and stormed over to your bag.

"Are you kidding? I thought you understood!" You yelled once again striding for the door.
"But darling--"
"NO! Just leave me be." At this point, you were barely holding back your tears of frustration. Any attempt to help from anyone might just have let them loose.

So stupid. How could you believe he had changed, he would always be the same old selfish king. Looking to keep power to the family in any way he possibly could, be it dumb trades or even dumber arranged marriages.

You scoffed finally making it to the door when you heard,

"It's what your mother would have wanted." Your palm froze on the handle and you closed your eyes, taking a moment.

"Mother wouldn't have wanted anything of the sort." You whispered darkly, almost spitting the words out. "How dare you speak of her like that. She deserves better. Mother always wanted me to marry for love because she never got the chance to." Nobody spoke in retaliation and you left before anyone decided to brave it. Although you thought you saw a figure chasing as you fled from the palace.

It could have been anyone; your father, your... husband-to-be, you really couldnt tell through the flurry of tears cascading from your eyes. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, hoping to God that whoever was chasing you was fairly unfit because you telly were not in the mood for a heart-to-heart

You broke down once you reached the woods. Heaving and choking out ugly sobs as you fell to your knees besides your tree.
"I hate my life." You screamed, thus scaring off the majority of birds in that section of forest.

"Yeah yeah, who needs ya." You murmured angrily at the birds flying away and wiping your tears. "Not me! I'm Miss Independent!" Rising to your feet, you kicked a couple pebbles away in anger and your hands slowly dusted off the sand from your dress. You gasped as you felt your fingers trace over a smooth bump in your pocket. Quickly, you pulled it out.

It was a ring. An engagement ring, oh the sneaky bustard. You father must have slipped it into your pocket during that phoney hug. An overwhelming feeling of sadness washed over you and you let out a bitter laugh.

"I don't need anyone!" You carried on, "Not the birds, not my dad, not even a spouse." You skipped around your tree deeper into the forest, wielding the ring as if it were your lifeline. Dancing around it and watching it glitter.

It was rather pretty, you supposed. All silver with a small, twinkling Topaz sitting snugly in the centre. It was just... so very... you.

"Do you," You started, spinning round wildly, "Miss Independent, take Mr Nobody to be your lawfully wedded husband?" You finished in a low growly voice and then in a tone more similar to you normally you giggled out an "I do!"

Still laughing and spinning, you rattled out the question again in the same first voice. "Do you, Mr Nobody, take Miss Indipendent to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Silence

Your smile dropped. Oh yeah, you were alone.

"Oh to hell with this." You mumbled, throwing the ring with all your might. Hopefully it would fall down some sort of ditch and be lost forever. Of course your father would have it replaced without blinking an eye but your message would be clear.

But with your luck, which had always been ludicrously ironic it landed perfectly on on a twig from an uprooted patch.
"Figures," You hissed, kicking at a stray pebble. You can't even mess things up properly. Why can you never do the things you really want to do.

With a sigh, you turned to leave when,

"I do."