twenty øne piløts imagines

Sø Bad It Feels Gøød - TJ

"I just don't get it. If the moral of the story is that we should be good, why do the bad guys get to have all the fun?"

"Please, just listen to me." Tina reiterated, gripping both your hands tightly. "Stay. Away. From. Xanthoans; Far away. We're Kreldomorph, remember? So to us they're all bad news. It's not fun if your life is in danger." She paused and heaved a small sigh, "Ok?" You nodded with what you hoped was a convincing smile. But even your naive eleven year old brain knew better than to believe a word your elder cousin had just said to you.

You were all she had left and vice versa. Everyone else in the family was killed in the war - the war that split the world into two tribes; Xanthoans and Kreldomorph. Yeah, sure you were sad and all that for a year or two but then you got angry. Once that passed, you just... stopped caring.

That conversation took place over fifteen years ago. It was now 2079 and Tina was dead. You wished you could say you honoured her by keeping your promise to her all those years ago but you had done quite the opposite. You joined a gang. A Xanthoan gang.

It was the only way you could survive. Once you had reached 16 the pair of you had formulated a concrete routine. With Tina you could lure perverts out, them thinking that they were going to get laid. Halfway through she's burst in with a knife, playing the crazy girlfriend. The dude would be so desperate to get out alive that he'd give you more than enough money.

Now she was gone.

On a run, you had miscalculated and it turned out that you were incredibly outnumbered. They said that one of could leave and one had to stay with them.

You had yelled and argued, but in end Tina knocked you out. You had no choice.

You woke up with a ear-splitting headache, alone in the alley and cried for a good hour. Ugly, unkempt sobs that echoes through the alley and stretched your throat. Since then you had grown.

They found her body a week later, defiled and used. Like a doll.

You didn't cry anymore.

You just wondered how a tribe that was so 'good' could do that to their tribal sister. It was then that you vowed you'd rather be alone that be around these... people that you obviously couldn't trust.

Soon enough, you were sure you were on the brink of death. You had been caught stealing a loaf of bread, a bloody laugh bubbled out at the thought how cliche that was. It was always the bread. The guy, your fellow Kreldo, didn't even hesitate to stab you in the gut. And there you lay, bleeding out, when a Xanthoan gang stumbled upon you and they actually helped you. If not for them... you didn't even want to think what would have come of you.

The name of their leader was Tyler, he had explained the ways of their gang and you were surprised to find out that Xanthoans were actually pretty decent people. Maybe you had been on the wrong side all along.

You had gotten the tattoos when you were twenty one; your official initiation into their gang. They didn't mind that you weren't a Kreldo and you couldn't help but wonder why your people hated them so much. You realised you had been looking at the situation all wrong and these were the good guys. It hurt your head to even consider it but something in you knew it was right.

Tyler stuck his head through the door.
"Okay, you ready?" You scoffed, lacing up your boots and fixing your gloves.
"Um duh, it's like my fifth mission out. If I'm not ready by now then you guys might as well drop me." Tyler smiled before walking over and leaning down to place a chaste kiss upon your lips.
"I'd never let them drop you." And yeah, that was a thing. You and Tyler were complicated. You were pretty sure he kissed everyone and so tried not to feel too special whenever you got to spend time with him.