Chapter Text
Tommy has reached the ultimate level of pog. He finally had the last part of his costume he needed to fulfill his dream of becoming a vigilante. He finally could help people, kids even, so that none could have a childhood like his. Well, maybe not those kids he had stolen the old Spider-Man mask from in the middle of the street, they could cry for all he cared. He was a Big Man, who did not care about the feelings of a few children who would fall for his tricks.
In case you’re wondering, what happened was like this:
He had changed his age to match the ages of the children he had seen walking by the park, the ones who were taking turns putting on a ratty cloth Spiderman mask. He walked up to them and asked for a turn, and like the unsuspecting little shits they were, they let him.
Tommy grinned to himself as he rushed back to his apartment.
Then, he had bolted off with the mask, growing taller and aging with each pounding step, the wails of the children filling the air behind him. Finally, he reached where he was now, back to a 17-year-old definitely NOT child.
He quickly ran up the stairs to his apartment on the sixth floor, tightly grasping the mask in his hands. When he reached said floor, he switched the new old mask to his right hand, fumbling around for his keys with his left.
“WHAT’S UP BOYS?!” He called out to the seemingly empty apartment. Just then, his roommate rolled out of the kitchen on his chair and waved him over.
“Hey, Tommy. Come, look at what I’ve been working on,” Tubbo said, rolling back to the room he was previously in. On the small table that was shoved into the corner of the space was a single monitor, where all three of them- Tommy, Tubbo, and their third roommate, Ranboo- collectively did their various different types of work. But now, something new joined the table, and Tommy let out a gasp.
“Are those the discs you’ve been talking about?” He asked in awe, already going to pick the purple one up. Tubbo nodded proudly, tugging on the bleached strand of his hair that stood out from the rest of the brown. “I’ve been working for weeks, and they’re finally done. Look,” he explained, picking up the second disc, this one green.
He flung it at their wall, and it made a dent before quickly returning to his hand like a fucking boomerang . “Oh my Prime, Tubbo, this is so poggers! Like, above all other pog. You really popped off, King, thank you,” Tommy gushed, already getting ready to throw the one in his hand, before Tubbo blocked him.
“Woah there Big Man, we can’t have two dents in the apartment, we’re already going to get killed for making one . Besides, you have to show me what you have,” Tubbo countered.
Oh yea. The mask he definitely did not steal from children.
He held it out for Tubbo to inspect, who immediately wrinkled his face in disgust.
“What the fuck is that? Did you, like, take it from some kids?”
Tommy scoffed at the older boy’s words. “No, of course not,” he exclaimed. Tubbo glared at him until he said, “Well, maybe. But it’ll be okay when they realize it was me Tommy Innit, soon to be a famous vigilante, who took it.”
“Tommy, go return-” Tubbo started, but was cut off by the door slamming open.
“Hello, hello,” Ranboo greeted the two other boys as he walked into the kitchen.
Tommy quickly shoved the discs under the table. For some reason, he didn’t want Ranboo to see them.
“Hey Ranboob,” he quickly said at the same time Tubbo exclaimed, “Hi, Boo!” Ranboo looked at the pair weirdly until he noticed the shit looking mask in Tubbo’s hands.
“Whatcha got there? Is that a spiderman mask? And why?” He asked the brunette. Tubbo looked down at his hands before quickly sitting on them, still holding the flimsy cloth material.
“Oh, Tommy was just going to return this. He… saw it on the floor near the park and like the dumbass he is, took it. We were about to put it back down, right Big T?”
Tommy shook his head quickly. “Uhmm… no. We are not returning it ,” he shot back, glaring at Tubbo. He was the Big Man who had gotten it in the first place, finders keepers! Well the kids were technically the finders…
He shook his head again. No, he couldn’t let them infect his brain.
Ranboo walked away as he said: “Gonna go take a nap,” which was quickly followed by: “‘Night, or whatever. We’re gonna do some work,” from Tubbo.
Tommy was bored already. Tommy should not be bored. Until…
“So you want me to explain to you how this will work?”
Tommy’s head snapped up at the thought of finally doing some action. “Finally!” He groaned.
Tubbo slipped past Ranboo on the couch and into the bedroom. When he returned, he had a hoodie folded in his hands along with cargo pants and a pair of fingerless gloves.
“Consider this a very early birthday gift. You won’t believe how much clothes cost these days,” he snorted as he passed them over to Tommy.
He took the hoodie and held it out in front of him to see it unfolded. The sleeves and the hood were red, and the rest was white. Obviously he wouldn’t need the hood, because his mask was perfect in every way, shape, and form.
“Thank you so much Tubs! As a way of thanks, you can have the bed tonight and I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said as he continued to inspect the outfit.
“Nah, pretty sure Ranboo’s gonna be on the couch- man sleeps like a rock. I’ll take it tomorrow though,” Tubbo replied, already turning back to his desk. “Besides, I have to tell you how patrols and shit works.”
Tommy immediately perked up at “patrol”. He slipped the hoodie on over his head with no so much struggle at all. “Is that like fucking fighting shit and stuff?” His muffled voice asked as he fought with the clothes.
Through the fabric, he could see his friend nod his head, pause, and then tilt his head to the side.
“Kind of,” Tubbo said as Tommy finally freed himself and was comfortable in the hoodie. “I’m gonna give you an earpiece so I can communicate with you, like telling you where to go, when the police are coming, or whatever else you get yourself into. Do not break it. I only have two, one for me to communicate with you, and vice versa. Here, see if it fits.”
Tommy pushed the earbud-looking thing into his ear and put the Spider-Man mask on over it. “Where did you even get this?” He questioned.
Tubbo shrugged.
Tommy shrugged too and then ran out of the apartment and into the hallway. “HELLO?” He shouted.
“I can hear you, you don’t have to be so loud,” a tinny voice said into his ear.
“This is so fucking cool, man! Thank you!”
“No problem, Toms. Now get back here so you can finally start doing stuff.”
Along with the outfit, Tubbo had converted a pair of Ranboo’s old shoes into fucking awesome rocket boots that blasted you into the air everytime you bounce on your tiptoes. He refused to tell Tommy how he made them except for the fact he vaguely mentioned nukes. After that, Tommy wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway.
Before he left, he pulled out his phone and started recording. He was gonna become fucking famous vlogging his adventures as an illegal vigilante.
The first patrol was quiet, the only noises through the night sounded from the conversations between the two boys, and the occasional Tommy muting the earbud to record him jumping and talking for the video.
“You know what’s crazy? The fact you even have to be a vigilante,” the earbud buzzed in Tommy’s ear as he bounced along the rooftops. “L’manburg is supposed to be as safe as SMP, but instead of the heroes patrolling here too, they only come on Mondays and leave it up to fucking children -”
Tommy stopped short at Tubbo’s complaint right before he was about to take another leap. He quickly changed his age to 20, then responded, “Hey, you may be a child but I am 20 . I am a Big Man. Can’t say the same for you though,” as he continued running, glancing down each alleyway he leaped over.
“Oh, piss off man.”
Tommy grinned under his mask. He was happy. He may be living paycheck to paycheck, but he was out in the city living out his childhood dream with his best friend at his side (ear?). And his other best friend was asleep in their apartment, safe. What more could he ask for?
“Tommy!” Tubbo’s voice rang out. Tommy blinked in surprise. He had missed what Tubbo had just said.
“Sorry, wasn’t listening. What’s wrong?” He asked, skidding to a stop. He had also forgotten to look down the alleyways.
“Go back to the top of Niki’s cafe, and then lower yourself down. I think I saw someone,” he said.
“How can you see? Have you chipped me? ” Tommy gasped loudly as he made his way back.
Tubbo’s voice stayed silent, implying a yes I did chip you but you can’t do shit because I did everything for you.
The blonde sighed as he lowered himself down on top of the cafe where their trio would often hangout, but it turned into a gasp and then choking when he looked down.
It was Ghostbah, one of the biggest villains throughout both SMP and L’Manburg. There were even theories saying he was the founder of L’Manburg, but slowly went corrupt. He had a pretty shit name if you asked Tommy. He decided he needed to tell him that.
“Hey!” Tommy called from the top of the building.
“What the fuck?” Tubbo hissed in his ear so forcefully he could feel the earbud vibrating. He quickly tapped the earbud to silence it and jumped down from the top of the building before he realized he never tested how high he could jump from. That’s why it was quite a shock when he landed on both feet, fine.
“Who the hell are you?” Ghostbah asked as he whipped around, his trench coat billowing slightly around him.
“I think your name is stupid.”
“What the fuck? And I bet your name is better?” The villain retorted, crossing his arms.
“Yes. Bug Boy is the poggest name for the poggest man. Although it was supposed to be Wife Haver, but my roommate said that it sucks,” the vigilante responded as he pulled out his phone to check if he was recording.
Ghostbah burst out laughing. “ Bug Boy? Are you 12?”
Tommy nodded and then shook his head. “I could be if I wanted to be,” he said as he felt himself shrinking. “But other than that, no. I am a mature adult.”
The older for now man shook his head. “Whatever. I’m leaving because all I did was come out for a nice quiet stroll and now I’m being harassed. And people say I’m a villain,” he muttered under his breath.
“I know you’re up to something, Bitch Boy,” Tommy called back, running to catch up to him.
“Look, I’m just trying to find my friend, who is injured, so please-” he was practically begging now, just wanting to get away from Bug Boy.
Tommy turned himself back to his 17-year-old self, but continued following him. “Aha, so you guys have committed crimes and he got hurt, so now you’re going to your secret base,” he concluded. He was in awe of the realization he just made. He was so fucking amazing.
He did not expect a punch in the face.