Chapter Text
Tommy laughed brightly as he and Tubbo duck and wove through the crowd, bright, big laughs filling the air. They’d spent all day just working to get through to the festival without issue, and this was their big pay off. The boys squished past a few more people before eagerly slamming into the barriers lining the roads. Neither of them where quite tall enough to see over the block with ease, but it didn’t matter. The floats where going to be so huge that in the end, they would see everything they’d came for. The festival was for the Heroes Accords, a day that celebrated heroes and people with powers (dubbed the ‘extraordinaries’) signing an agreement with the nations government to help ensure the safety of the future. While it wasn’t the same day in every country, the celebration lasted over a month, with all kinds of different and exciting activities, and a certain pair was determined not to miss a single one.
Said pair were currently on their tiptoes, grinning widely as the parade began. Acrobats, dancers, a whole band began marching down the streets. Tubbo (age eleven, currently holding his one inch claim to fame over Tommy) grinned brightly, his arm waving aggressively at the people moving, ever the beacon of kindness. Tommy (age ten, a big man despite his current height misfortune) groaned, but he couldn’t even really complain like he was embarrassed, a Philza plushie being held tightly in his right hand. Philza was in the top ten, space seven out of ten on the leaderboards and one out of ten in Tommy’s heart. He was currently just above the Protesilaus and the Lyricist, his sons and apprentices in heroism, who sat and eight and nine respectively.
Tubbo squealed in a way that Tommy would describe as ‘not very manly’, before struggling to restrain a similar noise as the number ten float began to pass them. Punz, a man acclaimed for swift justice. He didn’t take as many of the huge cases, and generally only helped when it came to important figures, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t admired. People practically begged for him to do more team ups. Tommy felt himself grip Plushza tighter, straining to catch a better look at the hero. His clothes were plain and white, with the occasional golden accents. It made sense to just keep a sleek design like that. He didn’t have any special abilities, and yet that only seemed to add to the tenth place favoritism.
“DID YOU SEE HIM TOMMY?” Tommy practically cackled out his laugh, grinning at the stunned expression Tubbo wore before nodding his head so aggressively he was almost afraid that it would fall off.
“HE WAS SO POGGERS TUBS!”
The elder couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree—Punz, was in fact, quite poggers. Tommy grinned and pressed closer as the float moved past them. Covered in white fabric and golden streamers... plain, but nice. If Tommy had a float, it would be big and red, with maybe some flames or something cool. Or bees, Tubbo seemed to like bees. But mostly it would be red. After all, red was just... objectively the best color. As seven, eight, and nine’s shared float appeared, however, all thoughts absolutely left his mind. If the government’s paycheck favoritism hadn’t been clear before, it sure as hell was now.
The float was huge—Tommy knew if he was just a little bigger, he probably could’ve reached out and touched it. It was layered with deep blues that faded into a high platform of scarlet, layered tiers with all sorts of swirling notes around depictions of battle, as though somehow the two went hand in hand. In Protesilaus and Lyricists case, he guessed that much made sense at least. That wasn’t the main attraction though. No, the big attraction was the back of the float, huge jet black wings with what must’ve been hundreds of thousands of feathers spread out over the crowd. Yet, while Tubbo was enraptured by the design completely, Tommy could barely look away from the three above on the podium.
Philza, waving with an ever warm smile, his own identical pair of wings partially wrapped around his sons. The Lyricist wore a calm outfit, a slouch beanie, baggie sweater, black jeans... he almost would’ve looked like a normal person if not for the guitar slung over his back. It’s design was completely hollow, the strings looked like some sort of fancy projection. It was amazing, the tech heroes had access to. Protesilaus, on the other hand, seemed to be a complete inverse. He wore a flowing shirt that looked like it was from the middle ages, sleek brown trousers that looked like they had leg supports woven in, and a huge blood-red cloak that Tommy imagined he must be burning up in. Then again... he was a hybrid, so who knew.
Tommy only tore his eyes away as something tickled his face, and he reached out, grabbing at it quickly. A dark, black feather. He stared before grinning, shoving the thing somewhat carefully into his pocket before glancing at Tubbo. He wanted to say something, but the words got lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth, and he just ended up bumping his friend with a grin. Eight and nine were both eighteen, only a handful of years older than the two standing right here. That could be us. The boys eyes glittered brightly. Tubbo only had a year, and Tommy two, until they would reach ‘accession’, which is to say, until they found out if they had powers. Neither of them knew their parents, so all they could really do was hope.
They were broken from their almost telepathic conversation as the crowd jostled and cheered. Halo’s float had just passed, an almost exact inverse of Punz float. It was onyx, a black so dark it nearly looked like a shadow. The only thing ensuring it wasn’t were the dark red accents that traced the sides, matching to the accents that rolled over the outfit Halo wore. He was a wholesome and kind shifting hero, and while he wasn’t within Tommy’s forte, he could understand the appeal all the same. He definitely was a child’s favorite, so Tommy, being a Big Man, clearly didn’t share the same sentiment.
The next float passed without much of his own interest too. Callahan. Tommy didn’t really know of heroes who used their own names, so he guessed that to at least some degree, Callahan must be poggers. The silent hero, never so much as uttered a word, yet a hero all the same. People weren’t even sure if he had a power. Whenever someone asked, it was never even given a written or signed answer; just a shrug. But Callahan was strong, a behind the scenes genius who seemed to just fine without words.
The next float was on its way when the ground shook. When everything shook. The floats stopped, the heroes atop them looking around for the signs of danger. The crowd fell silent, only for a moment, before the ground trembled again. Tommy paused, quickly turning and staring at Tubbo with wide eyes. The boy stared back before offering his pinkie and ring finger. Tommy rolled his eyes just the tiniest bit. The first time this happened, he’d told Tubbo he was a Big Man, that he could hold more than one finger, but his friend had simply glared, putting out a second finger before insisting he just hold on.
Tommy grabbed in as the ground shook again, pulling himself closer to Tubbo before a fissure started to spread across the ground, a deep laughter bursting forward. Immediately the crowd began to panic, running about like chickens without heads. The boys just stared at each other before nodding, a mutual agreement passing before they began to run. Back to the apartment that they were living in (totally not without a parent or guardian, pfft, that would be crazy). As they began to flee, Tommy could hear a building teeter and fall, screams breaking out as the top ten heroes set off to action. His lips pouted ever so slightly. They’d only gotten to number five...
...
Tommy groaned and rolled his head against the back of the couch, staring over at the person who was currently, very rudely he might add, making a hell of a lot of noise. His groan was returned, though in a very mocking way that he actually didn’t appreciate one bit. “Tubbo,” he whined, drawing out the ‘o’ for as long as he found fit (five seconds), before turning around fully, throwing himself over the couch like he was a blanket. “Tubbo, would you please stop your fuckin’ tinkling. I’m tryna watch Moana here.”
He could feel the other’s jaw set from his spot, watching the makeshift welding goggles be pushed off of his friends face, his eyes as wide and innocent as he could possibly make them. “Tommy, for the last time, it’s tinkering, and no, it’s your third time watching it this week. Maui can sing ‘your welcome later’, and preferably, you’ll be saying it too, seeing as it’s your boots I’m fixing right now,” Tubbo said plainly, shaking his head. “You have a phone, why can’t you watch Disney or whatever with that?” Tommy bit back a complaint about how it doesn’t feel the same, simply pouting at his best friend. Damn Tubbo for being so goddamn smart.
Tommy (age sixteen, even bigger man and part time vigilante) stared only a few moments longer before jumping over the couch, much to the displeasure of Tubbo (age seventeen, now smaller only in height, part time vigilante and tinkerer). “‘S not really my fault that the boots got broken, it’s the jerk who stabbed them. All I really did was kick him, and it’s his fault for stealing that purse too,” he grumbled softly, inspecting said boots. True to his younger selfs wishes, he’d stuck to the whole red ensemble and theme. The boots Tubbo was fixing right now were red, with thick black soles that held a whole shebang of feature, from booster springs to roller wheels.
The rest of his usual vigilante-ing garb matched it too. Black and red covered everything he owned for his second life. He’d wanted to go with white, but black matched his (still) personal hero Philza, so how could he go against it? Everything Tubbo had was green and black anyways, and to Tommy, there was no better pair. Unfortunately, Tubbo preferred to do more behind the scenes mechanics, and less field work (field was a stupid name, Tommy had once voiced, they’d never even seen fields before; Tubbo had ignored him and continued to try and explain the task). Didn’t make their duo any less dynamic at least.
“Tommy, are you gonna keep hovering, or do you want something to do?” The blonde paused, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish. He could see the small grin on Tubbo’s lips, promptly pretending he didn’t see the way he was being laughed at. “Fine bitch,” he grumbled, though he very quickly mumbled a ‘sorry’ afterwords, “what do you have for me?” The smile on Tubbo’s lips turned more pleased within a few seconds, and he contently reached over before pushing bag into Tommy’s hands, as well as an ear piece.
“New gadgets need testing. Gotta know what works, what doesn’t, what needs fixing.. I just haven’t had time to fix anything. I tracked down a ton of hero patrol schedules, and I don’t think any one is covering the far end of town. You know, the place down by the pet store, Tesco’s, all that?” Tommy nodded a bit, a grin spreading over his face as he headed to go and change. Hell yeah, this was exactly what he wanted. Some fun. Tubbo was still talking, but he was barely listening as he pulled on his suit, pressing the metal disc to his cheeks and letting the mask cover the lower half of his face. Big Man toy time.
...
Tommy loved the feeling of freedom. Of jogging down and around streets and alleys, admiring their down old city for what it was worth. Sure, some of the building hadn’t been completely rebuilt, and sure, some suspicious people walked around with hoodies up and heads down all the time, but that was just part of the charm! If there weren’t bad people, there would be no heroes! And that would just make a boring story, wouldn’t it now. Like his tragic backstory; how was he supposed to meet Tubbo in a box on the street corner if he had loving parents? Huh? Yeah, not so cocky now huh.
In all honestly, Tommy couldn’t judge his parents. He didn’t really remember them. Couldn’t make out their faces in his mind. He was pretty sure they had loved him. His memories with them were nice. But he also remembered them not coming home. It had been gradual, just like the way they faded from his memory completely by the time he was eight. Everything was replaced with Tubbo—a very good exchange. He’d found the other in a wet, rainy cardboard box. Tommy invited him to come stay over, and they stayed as long as they could. Eventually though, the house got reclaimed by the bank, and they just shoved what they could into a few backpacks before running away together. They promised to stay together.
They were doing pretty well at it too. Tommy reached into the bag, pulling out a deck of metal stars, inspecting them carefully. Tubbo had gotten better at tinkering over the years too. He twirled it with some interest, carefully pressing a gloved finger against the edge. Despite how sharp it looked, the metal was fairly weak, and caved at the touch. Part of Tommy said that was extremely lame, and the other part of him thanked Tubbo for being so good at making non-deadly weapons for their work. After all, despite being illegal heroes, they had a name to uphold.
In some senses, vigilantes were the same as villains. They did their heroic deeds unlicensed, and as such, they were disobeying the governments rules. Some parts were easier. You could use whatever means you wanted to see a fit end, and usually the police would find the tied up villains and be able to easily just cart them off afterwards. You could choose whatever cases you wanted to assist in. You occasionally gained the sort of fun notoriety where some shop owners offered you discounted goods. The flip side was the not being paid though. And the potential to get arrested; unlike heroes, when a vigilante commits murder, it’s generally frowned upon.
Tubbo was good with this though, a talented worker. He took inspirations from heroes and general builders alike; Grian was a fantastic general builder, as was Snifferish, and the creeper hybrid guy (Sam? Warden?), he was an amazing hero and technician. Tommy admired Tubbo’s ability to keep up with them. He shuffled around with the bags contents some more before slinging the bag around one shoulder and humming contently as he walked into a bakery. Not just any bakery; Niki’s bakery.
Niki was a fantastic, and upstanding citizen. It was rumored that she helped heroes behind the scenes, but any vigilante’s who graced her door were generally offered a warm pastry and a warmer smile. Tommy admired her ability to keep calm (and to bake without setting anything on fire) no matter what was going on. He and Tubbo had both had part time jobs under her before they were vigilantes. Sometimes, Tommy worried that should could tell who they were under the masks, despite how much his friend told him that was impossible. They both had voice modifiers, and their suits were wholly unlike the way they dress usually. Still... she was perceptive. Gentle like a butterfly, eyes like an eagle.
Tommy contently walked to the counter, bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly. “Hello. Lovely day out. Do you have any lemon pound cake?” Niki smiled and nodded, contently moving around behind her counter. “Well, you’re in luck, I actually have some in the oven right now. If you aren’t too busy, you can sit at one of the tables, and I’ll bring it over as soon as it’s done baking.” He nodded a thanks before moving over to his favorite corner table, leaning back with a slow sigh. He knew he couldn’t stay here forever, that soon he would be doing rounds to clear out the area before he could test the weapons he’d been given, but for now, he was fine to wait. Niki’s bakery was pretty empty—surprising, maybe, but this is how most afternoons went. It got packed in shifts (generally the shifts where heroes swooped in to buy a snack), and Tommy made sure he had them memorized. If he was ever in here at the same time as a hero, he a) didn’t know if he could contain himself and b) was pretty sure they’d ask to see his hero license. And that was something he just didn’t have.
He glanced up as the the bells rattled, watching someone push through the door. Multiple someone’s, actually. Tommy almost dismissed it, if not for the four wearing all black and some suspicious masks and insignias. His eyes narrowed a tiny bit, quickly pressing a hand to his up to turn on his ear piece. Just in case. Okay. What did Tubbo always say? Check for height, weapons, intent. Yeah, he remembered. They all looked about his height, maybe one or two of them taller. What’s next? Oh, yeah—
“Hey lady, fork over the cash.”
Ah, shit.
Tommy whipped his head up, noting to self that he had to go through those steps a little faster. Thank god Niki was the only one here right now because Tommy didn’t know his current capacity for saving. He quietly rummaged through his bag. They hadn’t really seemed to notice him yet—that was good, very good. The man in the front was holding a hand gun, and Niki stared at it with a vaguely unimpressed expression (her hands shook as she popped open the cash register), and Tommy pulled out the throwing star he’d been messing with, as well as all the others, and then threw it. A grin broke out over his lips as he saw it make deep contact with the mans hand, forcing him to drop the gun as he cried out. The other three whipped around as Niki snaked out her hand and snatched the gun.
“Hello there boys, my boys, mah friends,” he teased slightly, wiggling the stars in his hand before reaching back into the bag and pulling out a capsule. “Yknow, women are quite poggers, you probably shouldn’t treat ‘em like this.” One man pulled out a second hand gun, the other two putting up fists. Tommy sighed slightly, shaking his head. “This is funny, because I actually really don’t like getting shot, and I’m pretty sure you guys don’t want to fight. Just leave, and leave her alone, and we can go our merry ways!”
They apparently did want to fight, and didn’t much care for Tommy’s very nice suggestions anyways. He sighed, praying he could get that gun before too much property damage occurred. He saw the bullet before he heard the gun, rapidly squeezing the capsule and letting it pop open into a full staff, catching the bullets impact with only a tiny stumble. “Well that’s just a dick move, I didn’t even say let’s go.” The man with the gun stared before glaring again, his two goons moving forward. One of them was a couple inches taller than Tommy, the other a few inches shorter... and both probably stronger. He dubbed them, Tweddle Dumb and Tweedle Idiot. Tommy, this is where you made the ‘Tubbo Strategy Move’ rather than a ‘Run in and Fuck Shit Up Move’. He darted to the side after Tweedle Dumb lunged, though rather than going for his attacker, he threw one of the stars at Tweedle Idiots’ calves. He watched the man cry out, throwing two more with a haughty look. Okay, he threw one and missed the other, but the man looked like he really didn’t wanna walk on that leg.
Tweedle Dumb moved to grab the missing star, forcing Tommy to pay attention to Gun Man Number Two again. He was aiming at Tommy. Tommy’s stomach too. Well, he appreciated that it wasn’t going to be a super fatal shot, but he still didn’t like it. He reached out with the staff, aiming for the mans shins and ducking around him to avoid the gun. He heard a shot, eyes widening, before realizing it was Niki, glaring at Gun Man Two. Said man was now howling on the floor, gripping his thigh. Tommy took that gun, subtly shoving it in his bag. He pushed up to his feet, though, and immediately caught a throwing star with his side. He gasped a little, eyes blinking in shock as he looked at Tweedle Dumb. “You absolute dick!” He turned to Niki, staring dumbfounded. “He just threw my own star at me. My roommate is gonna kill me if I track blood in the house you know.”
Tweedle Dumb didn’t look like he cared, Niki looked extremely worried. Tommy was actually worried about his pound cake. He huffed slightly before pulling the star out. Based on Niki’s gasp, that might’ve been a bad idea, but whatever. He held out the staff with a glare before moving forward. He swung, and Tweedle Dumb caught. That was fine—he’d been expecting it. Tweedle Dumb also went for a kick to the stomach. Good god asshole, you’re predictable. Tommy grinned, slamming the bloody star into the mans leg and watching shock spread through the man’s eyes. He sneered slightly as the guy fell over, moving to the counter. “I’m so sorry Niki, there is a lot of blood here—do you mind if I just...” He moved over each man, giving them a comfy unconscious escape before dragging them all together and wrapping them up with handcuffs, specially designed by Tubbo. Well. His side was warm... yeah, he needed to get home.
“Oh, right. Niki, is that pound cake done?”