Chapter Text
Tommy’s heart palpitated excitedly against his rib cage, the muscle feeling like it was going to burst from his chest. It had just hit two in the morning; the sky was pitch black, and the streets were as silent as a graveyard.
The only sounds heard were the occasional rumble of cars, the screeching street cats and his pounding heartbeat in his ears. Fortunately, there were no criminals out at this hour, not right now anyway. This should be suspicious as the streets had more recently been buzzing with crime, much more crime than he'd seen in weeks.
And then he heard it, the yells of a familiar criminal who went by the name of Arson. Now, he wanted to stop the criminal as much as the next guy; the only problem is he would’ve been arrested on sight, as well as the fact that arresting criminals requires much more effort than it seems. The million-dollar question is, why would he get caught? You may be tempted to ask. Well, TommyInnit is a vigilante.
A vigilante who shouldn’t be intruding, should stop the more minor crimes while the actual superheroes catch the real villains. Arson was around? Well, that apparently has no priority over a cat being stuck in a tree. Fucking heroes and their saviour complexes.
Maybe, in another universe, he would ignore that advice and go after the big shot villain. Perhaps he'd have a dream of fighting alongside the superheroes and being the best damn vigilante this world would ever know.
But that was boring. Who said that you couldn’t have a bit more fun while being a vigilante?
That’s where Tommy gained his reputation, from his own crimes. Of course, he was just another problem that the superheroes were dealing with, but they didn’t know just how big of a problem TommyInnit was.
Not only did they know him from the times where he’d shot a drug dealer with a gun that was filled with a mysterious liquid or solid (however he’s feeling at the time), but the stories also told were of a menace of a vigilante robbing the local toy store of a singular stuffed cow.
That was true, yet if they heard the way that the cow was calling for him, they surely would’ve understood. It would’ve been a crime in itself, leaving Henry behind to be torn apart by some snot-nosed brat with a bad attitude.
A crime that was occasionally committed that he had yet to be branded for being spray painting, which is precisely why the boy stood in the alleyway with an empty can of spray paint in his hand. So, maybe the news outlets boosted his ego a little too much. It was easier to just ignore the villain, who by the sounds of it had now left the scene. Was the victim dead? Was there a bloodbath and a murder scene just in the alley beside him?
In any other case, he would check, maybe pull out his phone and get a close up of the action only to post on Twitter later and let the fame come to him (Maybe he should retire his vigilantism and become an influencer.) No, tonight Tommy was on a mission and no corpse was going to ruin this for him.
Being labelled as the town’s most slippery vigilante was an honour. He almost shed a few tears until Tubbo had to reprimand him. Apparently, vigilantes are supposed to be the good guys, okay, Tubbo. His friend was way too responsible for his liking, he loved Tubbo but the guy really needed to get out more often. Tommy shook the red paint can in his hand, his lip twitching into a mischievous smirk as he let his hand move as it pleased. He couldn't help but admire his work when he was done.
On the building behind him was a messily painted penis, maybe he was a bit childish, but hey, it was funny. Tommy shook the can again, adding the finishing touches with the small bit of paint remaining. He chuckled under the crimson bandana that shielded his mouth and his nose. He adjusted the matching red mask covering his eyes.
Under the body part was his nickname, well, not necessarily *his* nickname.
It was a name that a hero had given to him. Tommy guesses that they got tired of calling him ‘Speedy Vigilante That Somehow Manages To Best Every Hero That Has Ever Attempted To Catch Him,’ but that’s precisely what he was.
Unlike other vigilantes, he did his work in style. He wasn’t going to bore the news and people with typical vigilante antics! So, instead of hiding, Tommy made his presence known.
It wasn’t the most brilliant idea, not at all, but seeing the defeat on the hero or villains face when they had failed to catch up to him, thanks to his stamina, was totally worth it.
‘Theseus.’ Was signed under the penis, just as any artist would leave. Tommy wasn’t an artist. Well, perhaps he had potential. He studied the drawing, cocking his head to the side to see if it’d be applicable for the downtown museum. Children went there, so probably not.
He was getting side-tracked. This was about his nickname, not the penis. Tommy didn’t precisely know what a Theseus was, but the nickname stuck after his roommate hit him over the head when he’d heard Tommy’s original idea.
Tommy could only complain and huff in defeat. Usually, he would retaliate, maybe try to reason with his psycho roommate. Still, when the Ender bitch who worked closely beside him chimed in with his own opinion that the name Tommy chose wasn’t that bad, he had changed his mind immediately and agreed with Tubbo.
He thought that the name he had chosen was superior. Tubbo just struggles to understand him, is all. Tubbo’s not on the same wavelength. Not only would he sound so, so much more threatening with the nickname, he would also leave his attackers wholly bewildered when he’d come out of the shadows and clart them over the head with a baseball bat.
“You’re not calling yourself ‘Pog Boy’. Are you fucking stupid? You’re just looking to be bullied!” Tubbo had exclaimed. Tommy could only frown in disappointment. So his name was literally Tubbo. Who was he to speak?
“You are so mean, Tubbo. Pog Boy will conquer all heroes and villains! Pog Boy will be feared, he will be deadly, and if you’d give him a gun, he would-”
“I’m not going to let fucking ‘Pog Boy’ touch a gun, absolutely not.” Tubbo deadpanned. After the interaction, he turned back to his computer and slipped the headphones back over his ears.
Tommy had argued one-sided with the other boy for the next thirty minutes before realising that Tubbo was purposely ignoring him.
‘Pog Boy’, Tommy thought, an established hum left his throat in agreement with himself that the name was close to perfection. But, unfortunately, before he could go back to the wall and rebrand himself, he felt a droplet on his head.
“No, don’t piss now!” Tommy sighed. He watched the sky piss all over the place. The penis that was previously on the wall had been replaced with a large red splotch as the droplets of water hit the concrete wall erasing his hard work.
“No!” He fell to his knees dramatically, cursing up at the sky as he watched his art turn to nothing but a red stain and a memory. He let a tear slip from his eye, clutching his chest as the rain poured around him.
He really hoped that a security camera caught that footage. But, instead, he clutched a hand to his chest with his eyes firmly shut. Then, staying sat on his knees for a few more seconds, he let the camera capture the pure emotional heartbreak before getting up from his spot on the floor.
The rain pelted down harshly. It almost hurt the boy standing in the shower when each droplet smacked against his skin. With the weather being so shit recently, he had expected a slight downpour, but this rain was the harshest he’d seen in a while.
It was as if somebody could hear his thoughts because the rain had stopped. Well, the rain didn’t stop, but Tommy had been shielded. Stretching an arm out in the shower, it soaked into his suit, and he huffed in disbelief.
Huh, his awesomeness really just shielded him from the rain, poggers.
“Hey!” Tommy’s eyes widened as he looked left and right. The streets were more dead than before he’d entered the alley. Nobody was in sight. Were they hiding? He was honestly too tired to check. He knew that his patrol had been successful (even if everything didn’t go according to plan). Before he could walk away and shrug it off, he heard the voice again.
“Hey!” Oh no, this was so clearly a case of voices in his head. This wasn’t on. He couldn’t go yet. He mourned the next few years of his life, knowing that he’d have to leave Tubbo behind to have an angsty arc before returning with a beard and three convictions of arson.
Maybe that wasn’t the right path to go down. Tommy decided that if they even attempted to touch his brain, he would willingly smash his head into the nearest concrete building to get them to fuck right off.
“Listen, let’s compromise. Don’t touch my brain, and I’ll offer you three minutes of my time. Do you want to hang out with Pog Boy for three minutes? You know what, why am I even asking? Of course, you do.”
He grinned triumphantly. Apparently, the voices weren’t getting the hint because instead of eagerly agreeing, his head stayed silent for a minute. “You’re that vigilante, right?”
Oh, the voices would already know he was a vigilante. Meaning that Tommy had been completely fooled. What kind of asshole made a big man like himself start to believe that he had voices in his head? That was downright rude and manipulative.
Checking his surroundings once more, he decided that maybe looking up to see what was actually shielding him from the rain was a good idea as the streets seemed as deathly as they had previously been.
So, that’s why Tommy was currently sprinting away. The wind whipped past him, and the rain hammered down. The tin roofs above him sounded like they would break with the heavy rainfall, deafening the shouts of Philza as he chased Tommy from above.
Not only was it any bland hero, but it was Philza, with his giant black wings, flying after Tommy. As soon as the boy ran, Philza didn’t hesitate before taking off after him.
Philza, the number one hero, was chasing him, intending to throw him in the slammer. But, he wouldn’t last a day in prison; he was too pretty. No, pretty is not the right word, handsome.
“This is so unfair. The dude has wings!” Tommy yelled to himself. Philza could only chuckle at the boy’s shouts. Apparently, the winged hero had superhero hearing, and he only found amusement in chasing Tommy down, listening as the vigilante cursed him out.
Okay, it was his time to shine. He knew that Philza’s speed gave him an advantage in this chase, with the wings and all. So, he’d have to trick him. Tommy’s lips twisted into a cocky smirk under the bandana as he turned to run in the opposite direction.
Apparently, that simple motion had confused Philza leaving him in the dust and staring back at the boy as he scrambled through the alleyways of his district.
A crackle from his headset indicated that Tubbo was now on the line with him, “Tommy?” his best friend spoke. He jumped, startled at the voice and could only quickly mumble back a guilty, “Hello, Tubbo.”
The line was silent before Tubbo released an irritated exhale, “Why the fuck did you sneak out? I told you that my computer was rebooting, you idiot!”
“Tubs, my friend. Crime comes before computers!” Tommy exclaimed. He was still dashing through alleyways, avoiding the main street as much as he could to avoid the winged man flying above and occasionally stopping to take a closer look between the trash cans tucked into corners.
“Not before safety, Tommy!” His friend shouted. Philza was yet to catch up to him, so maybe he could get Tubbo an apology gift on the way home?
Unfortunately, the nearest toy store was... under maintenance. Tommy heard that a blonde vigilante had utterly wrecked the store, terrorising children and the shopkeeper who sobbed like a baby on national television.
What a cool guy, Tommy thought. He wished that he could be more like the other vigilante. The other vigilante sounded so cool; he almost saw himself in him.
Tommy cleared his throat, “Hey Tubbo, I know you’re mad at me or whatever, but do you mind calling me Pog Boy? It would just be so much cooler if we had codenames, ya know?”
Another angry sigh from Tubbo’s end, Tommy was close to taking his earpiece out and dealing with the problem later when he was there to talk himself out of it. “Tommy, I am not going to fucking call you Pog Boy, you absolute dick.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how stubborn his best friend was. What was his problem? He knew that Tubbo was mad at him, but in this situation, Tommy was innocent! Can’t a guy just commit a simple crime?
“It would be poggers, come on, you want to be poggers, right Tubs?” He pestered. Of course, Tubbo would. He envied Tommy. Even through the disappointed or blank looks that Tubbo shot him, he knew that he was discretely jealous.
“Dick Boy, stop referring to everything as poggers. It’s very cringe and incorrect in the English language.” Tubbo retorted,
“You’re literally dyslexic!” Tommy argued back. He could picture Tubbo rolling his eyes, “That doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!”
“It totes does!”
A harsh cough was heard ahead of him, and he groaned in frustration, coming face to face with another problem. Great, today of all days when he had to get back and beg Tubbo not to throw away his Pokémon cards.
Soot, the infamous hero who could supposedly control people’s minds with his voice, cringe. This night just couldn’t get worse. He didn’t have time to pretend to be mind-controlled to appease an ugly hero. Yes, Tommy was a vigilante, but he wasn’t an asshole.
Maybe he should just give himself up. Any punishment his friends would give him when he got home would be ten times worse than whatever these heroes wanted from him.
No, he thought. He would persevere, he still had one last episode of Criminal Minds, and he would not let these crime-stopping bitches get the better of him. Tommy just waved, and with a smile sweet as honey, he rushed past Soot, sprinting even faster with the determination of getting home.
“Stop.” Soot called after him, yikes he was using the voice. The voice, for anybody else, would stop them in their tracks. Well, Tommy wasn’t ‘anybody else,’ he was Tommy-fucking-Innit.
So, he simply evaded. To his surprise, denying the control had worked, and the hero stopped in his tracks. Wow, and people still wonder why Tommy was so much further up the food chain than the average vigilante. If he didn’t enjoy frosted flakes so much, he would eat those other vigilante imbeciles for breakfast.
Soot shouted from behind him, and Tommy cackled into the night. The two heroes were on his heels, and all he could do was run. Trying to lose them while listening to Tubbo shout directions in his ear was much harder than he thought it would be. Philza had wings, after all, which made him quicker. Just not as quick as Tommy.
Tommy caught himself before hitting a wall. He let out a couple of breaths. This was quite the chase, and he knew that he would be screwed without a plan. Tubbo would break him out of prison just to throw him out of the window and then lock him back up. He shivered at the thought. His height and looks did not compare to who he was behind his adorable facade.
Tubbo was a lot shorter than Tommy, standing at 5’6, while Tommy stood at 6’1. He was brunette, chestnut brown hair almost always getting in the way of his face, which at some point had become his everyday hairstyle. He loved bees and was fascinated by computers and anything tech, cute, right?
Nope, he was, in fact, a demon. Tommy stopped counting when Tubbo had thrown him out of the window for the twenty-seventh time in a week. That was at least three times per day that Tommy was faced with the impact of the ground floor of their rundown apartment.
Tubbo was downright terrifying when he wanted to be, threatening and cursing Tommy out when he was angry. Once, he remembers Tubbo recording his show over Tommy’s favourite movie, Up. His excuse being that Tommy had blown up the microwave, he only scoffed, a microwave could not compare, but Tubbo didn’t seem to understand why he was angry at him.
His hand rested on the wall, his haggard breaths coming out much too quick for his liking. He didn’t need this tonight, not when the rain had become a bigger problem than imagined. If he slipped, then he’d be in the hands of the heroes, but if they continued to tail him... Gods knows if he’d make it home tonight. Eventually, he would run out of breath and collapse.
The footsteps behind him, combined with another set of breaths of exhaustion, caused him to turn around to see Soot doubled over, trying to catch his breath. “Why the hell are you so fast?” He complained, Tommy didn’t answer, which further infuriated the hero.
Then, Philza had flown down and was now standing beside Soot. The older hero was breathing normally. He didn’t seem exhausted in the slightest. Tommy grumbled at the hero, but the hero’s attention wasn’t on him.
Tommy watched closely as Philza’s eyes raked over the appearance of Soot, who waved him off, still trying to catch his breath. He could almost swear that the glint of affection and worry in Philza’s eyes was real. Tommy would even go far enough to call it fatherly.
This called for some quick thinking, Tommy racked his brain for an escape plan, but his thoughts were interrupted when another member decided to join their little party.
The Blade, that’s what they called the man on the streets anyway. His infamous pig mask hid a good half of his face, and his cape moved in the breeze and Tommy couldn’t help but stare in awe.
Tommy thought that spotting Philza or Soot out of costume would be easy. Sometimes they don’t even bother with costumes when off duty. The Blade was a different story. He was dedicated to staying in costume. The mask never left his face, and he was never seen with any other clothes other than the usual king-esque attire.
The only familiar thing about him would be his hair. That pink braid could be seen from a mile away. If The Blade wasn’t so stealthy, he would probably be caught instantly if attempting to sneak up on any criminal with the vibrant pink painting his hair.
“Woah, it’s you!” His pupils expanded, eyes going wide as his jaw dropped to the floor at the entrance of The Blade. His idol was standing before him, the iconic sword caked with dried blood clutched in his steel grip.
Gods, Tommy could just squeal with excitement (in the manliest way possible, of course.)
The pink-haired individual only looked at him quizzically. His silent and threatening demeanour would usually send civilians or villains in a state of panic. Not Tommy. He was trying not to fanboy over the man.
Tommy had to pause and control his breathing, “The Blade! I get to escape from The Blade! Hold on, give me one second. I’m just trying to process this.”
The trio stayed silent as Tommy stood still, Tubbo was yelling nonsense in his ear, but Tommy didn’t have time to listen to Tubbo berate him. He was about to run away from The Blade, of all heroes. His favourite hero, matter-of-factly. Despite being the number two hero, only a rank lower than Philza, Tommy would admit that The Blade was cooler.
Only a smidge. Philza was only second because he was a manipulative bastard.
“Why are we not doing something? He’s standing right there!” Soot shouted at the other two heroes, which seemed to snap them out of a daze, and that was all Tommy needed to send a swift kick in the direction of The Blade’s sword.
His grip loosened, and the sword clattered to the ground, but The Blade was quick to retaliate by swiping it up in lightning speed and running at the vigilante. Tommy only scoffed, jumping out of the way of the sword, but The Blade retracted it and again aimed it toward him.
Soot, who had now composed himself after the distraction, threw himself at the blonde in an attempt to catch him. Tommy took a step to the left and let out an awkward whistle as he heard Soot curse from behind him after throwing himself at the wall.
With Soot down that left The Blade and Philza, Philza only stood in disbelief as he glanced between the vigilante and Soot, who groaned and rubbed at his now bruised head.
The Blade was fast with his movements, swinging his sword at Tommy, the blade nicked him a couple of times, but he wouldn’t give up just yet. Instead, he dug into his back pocket, and with a loud yell, he launched the pocket item that he had stolen from Tubbo at the man.
It felt as if the world was in slow motion when it hit The Blade. He only stumbled back and stared in shock as he touched his coat to feel the wet liquid. He lifted his hand and groaned at the red paint covering his hand and now his red coat.
Somehow, stealing from Tubbo had been the reason why he lived this time. Well, he wasn’t too sure how much time he had left. The Blade looked at him as if he was his next victim. He couldn’t be sure if they were trying to catch him to lock him up or kill him.
It wouldn’t be the first instance where the heroes had gone in for the kill, he’d faced heroes before who had the intention to kill him, but in the hands of the top three heroes, he doesn’t know how easy it’ll be to escape them if they try.
“You’re a dickhead! Get paintballed, Blade!” Tommy shouted at him. He stomped his left foot on the ground, which actively lit up the sneakers that he was wearing. Another thing stolen from Tubbo. Little Tubbo, so very smart but also stupid for leaving his things out in the open.
Hey, Tommy had simply seen a brand new pair of sneakers and worn them. How would he have known not to touch them? After he laced them up, he made sure to kick away the sticky note that read ‘Tommy do not touch!’ The guy should’ve written his codename. At that point, he was in the mindset of PogBoy.
Before The Blade could lunge at him again, Tommy jumped. The shoes had boosted him, allowing him to escape. He landed on the top of the wired fence, and with a grip thanks to the overpowered shoes, he was able to avoid breaking another bone from slipping from the wet rail. He couldn’t hold in the patronising laugh that left his lips at his victory; he concealed the shakiness of his hands by shoving them in his pockets.
The three heroes stood on the ground staring up at him; Soot with a scowl on his face, Philza with a mix of shock and curiosity and The Blade. Well, by the way, his fists were clenched, he was angry. He was familiar with the looks they all gave him, baffled that they were bested by a vigilante who graffitied a penis onto a wall twenty minutes ago.
He made it a scene to rifle through his utility belt strapped to him. When the heroes reacted, Tommy only pulled out his middle finger. And then, he leapt off the fence, and he was gone in an instant.