Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So, now what?”

“I dunno. Wanna get coffee?”

“We’re literally villains.”

…

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

--------------

Okay, so maybe going into a coffee shop with your best friend, fully decked out in villain gear wasn’t Tommy’s greatest moment, but who can blame him? He’s thirsty. And tired. And he doesn’t have money. Sue him.

Getting in was the easiest part. Throw a little bomb made by brilliant Tubbo at the shop, wait for it to blow up, and then go in like an absolute badass. It went pretty well, minus the grumbling from Tubbo about killing civilians.

“We’re villains, not monsters.” Tubbo muttered. Then the entrance blew up. “And we will attract the heroes.”

“Eh. Killing civilians is not above me or you, and you know it. You literally blew up a bank last week, just for upholding our reputation as the Bench Trio and your reputation. And plus, the heroes won’t come until we are far gone!” Tommy said, walking into the coffee shop with his chin held high.

His ego got even bigger as he saw all of the scared people, some jumping out of windows. Okay, maybe Tommy was a tad bit sadistic, but hey, these are people from the top district. Their lives are probably filled with cruelness and being cruel as well. Ooh, he hoped Schlatt was here.

Probably not.

“You… You monsters! Get out of the shop!” The cashier yelled, looking scared, but determined. Their voice wavered as Tubbo stepped closer, re-adjusting his mask to keep it firmly on himself. Tommy took that as a warning and put the bandana we wore to match with his best friend(s) over his nose.

“Here’s your 15% tip.” Tubbo said, voice dripping with malice, even with the voice changer. He then threw a gadget at the counter and watched as smoke filled the room. Tommy could practically feel the smirk growing on Tubbo’s face.

The remaining people were either hiding or already running off. Even if they had heroes come, it wouldn’t be the top heroes. Too small of a thing, a robbery. It would be Slimecicle, at best, and Slimecicle would easily give in to Tommy and Tubbo. He’s too new to deal with Lycomedes and Nuke, the two strongest rising villains. With some others, but Tommy doesn’t think they are as prominent as Tubbo and him. (He heard prominent on TV once and now uses it every day.)

“What do you want?” Tubbo said with a no-longer-amused look on his hidden face. It seems he had gotten bored. Fair.

“Uhh. Let me get a.. Do they have a French press coffee?” Tommy pondered. He loved caffeine- he would be dead without it. That's why French press coffee was his favorite!

“Of course you want caffeine.” Tubbo mumbled. “You.” He pointed to a girl who seemed to be in a trance-like state. Holy shit. Is that what the smoke did? Crazy! “Get me a French press coffee and a… Red eye.”

The girl got up and began to shuffle to the coffee machine, drowsily doing her job. Tommy couldn’t recall what she was doing, since he never knew how to make coffee. And he was still silently laughing at the irony. Tubbo was mad at him for getting a French press while he was getting a fucking Red eye.

After a minute, she put the two coffees on the counter with shaking hands, before whispering, “that would be 19-”

“No.” Tubbo stated. The girl fell to the ground like a ragdoll. Tommy was utterly flabbergasted.

“What the fuck? That's sick! Does it work on heroes?” Tommy hurried to Tubbo’s side, grabbing his coffee.

“They have masks, so no.”

“That’s mad unfair. It would be so sick if when we are getting beat in the middle of a battle, you pull out your smoke shit and boom! All the heroes are under your control!” Tommy practically yelled, envisioning the whole thing with excitement.

“Maybe I’ll figure out how to get it under masks later.” Tubbo shrugged, before walking off. “Let's go. The heroes will be arriving soon.”

Tommy quickly followed after, avoiding unconscious civilians.

--------------

Tommy and Tubbo realized their mistake shortly after leaving. It was Tubbo who remembered, freezing up and looking slowly at Tommy.

“To- Medes.” Tubbo stated, whacking himself on the head for almost saying Tommy’s civilian name. He then continued to look horrified.

“We forgot to get Ranboo something. And we are late.”

“Oh god, we are so fucked.”

--------------

Tommy was correct about his claim that they were fucked. He kept his head down, like Tubbo, as they walked up the fire escape. The sweetness from his French press coffee had turned bittersweet as he awaited his doom.

One foot after the other.

Closer to the door.

Another step.

Even closer.

A last step.

At the door.

Oh god.

Tubbo was the one who reached out for the handle, grabbing it and opening it awkwardly. Cold air greeted them, as well as a Ranboo, standing in the middle of the room with their arms crossed and an infuriated expression on their face. Tubbo looked horrified, avoiding Ranboo’s gaze.

“Heey, Ranboob… so… how are yo-” Tommy attempted small talk with an awkward smile, but Ranboo cut him off.

“You two are 45 minutes late! I am not one to get angry, because that's usually Tubbo who does, but 45 goddamn minutes?! You two worried me sick! Not even a text! And not even a hot chocolate?”

--------------

His lecture lasted double the time Ranboo waited for Tommy and Tubbo and now Tubbo was taking off his gear at 1 in the morning.

Tommy was eating the spaghetti Ranboo had prepared, still in shock of how long his lecture had lasted, and the incredible mood swing Ranboo had after it all happened. It was an insane mood swing- one moment he was screaming at them, the next he was smiling, telling them dinner had been made hours ago and he went to bed happily.

Tubbo sat across from Tommy, slowly picking up a noodle with his spoon, before letting it fall back on to his plate.

“That was… something.” Tubbo murmured.

“We should have gotten him a hot chocolate.”

“Yeah.”

…

“I’m gonna go to bed now, night, Tubs. You get the couch.”

“You two suck ass.”

“Thanks.”

Tommy got up, taking his plate to the refrigerator. He’ll have to finish it later. Later, as in tomorrow. There is no way he is getting up again tonight, especially since he gets the bed.

With Ranboo, of course, but at least it wasn’t Tubbo. That guy kicks like he’s getting attacked constantly, and it hurts like a bitch. Ranboo doesn’t mind it, somehow. Tommy 100% does.

The bedroom was disheveled, like a hippopotamus came in and wrecked everything. Outfits- though not many, most were getting washed- were thrown in different directions.

Right.

That might have been Tommy trying to find his villain suit before his patrol with Tubbo happened.

Supplies that Tubbo didn’t put away were stacked on each other, hidden in a corner as an attempt for the room to look good, old, discarded ideas for their villain masks were hung up, but Tubbo’s had fallen onto the ground.

The space where the three boys would throw their money into, just to count how much they had so they could pay rent, was messed up, money now hidden around the room.

Ranboo seemed blissfully oblivious to all of this, sleeping very peacefully and cuddled up in a burrito blanket some old lady was selling at a yard sale for 2$. Ranboo had bargained, though, and got it for 1. That poor old lady who got scammed.

Tommy groaned in annoyance, kicking his clothing into a corner, piled against Tubbo’s supplies, and grabbing pajamas that were thrown around the one dresser that came with the apartment.

He walked into the bathroom to get changed, taking off his mask- a simple bandana that Tubbo had made for him when they were younger. Ranboo also had one.

Tommy stared at himself in the mirror. He often came back to doing this. Just.. thinking.

Whenever he looked at photographs of him and his old family, he always seemed so bright. Now, Tommy’s only memory of them was their faces, the small number of photos that survived the fire, and a horrid and large burn scar that took up half of his skin.

Tommy didn’t remember much. Just that for some reason, he wanted away from his family when he was about 11, so he started a fire.

He didn’t escape in time.

It turned out alright, though, because his latest memory he could actually remember clearly was staring up at Quackity through one eye.

His other had been, and still is, very blurry and usually, he can’t even see out of it. Quackity told him it was because of pressure in the eye and glacome or whatever he said it was. Tommy didn’t listen very well.

Now his eye feels dry and weird.

Tommy sighed, touching his skin. It won’t ever recover fully, but at least he didn’t have blisters anymore. He had gotten the urge to pop them the first time he was left alone and.. That didn’t go well, to say the least.

Tommy quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts and threw on his pajamas. If Tubbo gets his on before him, Tubbo will have the bed, and Tommy hates that damn couch. So stiff. And he swears he got lice from it. Thank God he doesn’t have them anymore, even if he did end up burning his scalp and some hair trying to get rid of them.

It’s still fine, because Tommy thinks he looks/looked awesome, like always.

He rushed out of the bathroom just in time. Tubbo was sprinting into the bedroom, but Tommy leaped into bed, giggling at Tubbo’s misfortune. And his face. He looked like a wet cat.

“You bitch..” Tubbo mumbled, looking defeated. Tommy only grinned, flipping him off and shoving himself further into the bed, stealing the burrito blanket from a mumbling Ranboo. Weirdo. Whatever!

Tubbo exited the room, looking down.

“I’m eating your noodles.” Tubbo stated sadly.

“Fuck you.”

--------------

Sleep is a bitch.

Ranboo was mumbling the whole night, sometimes gasping for air, and Tommy’s body decided that this was the perfect time to remind Tommy of the soot still stuck in his lungs.

He had been coughing the whole night and barely held himself back from punting the damn alarm clock when it went off.

Ranboo woke up, sitting up quickly and gasping. Tommy turned off the alarm.

“My bad. I have work today.” Tommy apologized.

He knew a lot of people who valued sleep- that one dude who was Alyssa’s regular at the cafe he worked at especially. His name was Geroge. Something like that. He loved his sleep, always coming later at night because “sleep is the best thing you can have!” Niki, Alyssa and Bad all found him funny. Tommy hated him. He always came later and destroyed Tommy’s hopes of closing early.

“It’s fine, Tommy. I was having nightmares, anyways.” Ranboo admitted with a small smile and a shrug.

“Awh. That sucks, big man.” Tommy remarked, giving Ranboo a look that not even he could remember what it meant and pulling his apron and white, collared shirt out of his pile. His uniform, the text, ‘Badland’s Cafe” stitched into the red apron and black hat.

“See you at, what, 4?” Ranboo asked.

“Yep! Unless some bitch boy comes and ruins it.” Tommy chuckled, saluting to Ranboo and bouncing out of the room to get changed, grab some cereal he made sure wasn’t expired- diseases from food are absolutely horrifying, and sprint off.

See, he had a habit of setting his alarm 10 minutes before he was due for getting to work. Sometimes he made it, most he didn’t.

He had a feeling he wouldn’t today.

The clouds condensed into something similar to obsidian covering the sky, wrapping the earth in a very cold embrace. Reminded Tommy of Caras’ wings. God, those sucked. He had gotten impaled with one of his stupid obsidian knife feathers, and it hurt like a bitch. It was, thankfully, only in his hand, though. Tubbo would have gone insane if it were anywhere else. He still did go insane when Tommy came home that night, but still. Not that bad.

Oh my goodness, why does Tommy get caught up in flashbacks so much? It’s like he wants to be late.

“Shit,” Tommy cursed, looking at his phone. 2 minutes until he’s late. He’s so done for.

--------------

Running through heavy rain is not fun. It was like the stupid rain had come right then, just to diss him. One moment, when he was inside, may I add, there was no rain. It was cold as hell, yes, but no rain. Then as soon as he leaves, a damn thunderstorm.

Tommy flipped off the sky. He was aiming for God being flipped off, but guessing by all of the people around him reactions, no one does that.

Fuck them, then. They can die too, with their fancy ass umbrellas and houses in the third top district. Did he mention he lucked out and got into an extremely expensive and rich people cafe just for his personality? And looks. Well, Bad tells him it's because he was funny and nice. Tommy says it's because he looks awesome.

He arrived, running into the back of Badland’s Cafe. Going through the front when you look like you just took a swim was a death sentence for your reputation. Hey, Tommy may be some nobody when he’s a civilian, but he would rather that than publicly embarrass himself in front of his co-workers and random people that could be his new regulars.

As he swung the door open, Jack goddamn Manifold stood in front of him, holding a timer in his left hand and tapping his right foot impatiently. Ugh. Tommy hated that guy.

“4 minutes late.” Jack hummed, a smile growing on his face.

He was definitely going to hold this against Tommy for a long time.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tommy huffed, holding his blue sweater closer to him. Not like that did anything.

“Tommy!” Niki greeted as she came into the back. “Good, you're here! Foolish had the first few minutes of your shift, but I’m glad you made it! Here, let me get a spare uniform.”

“You don’t need to-” Tommy was cut off by a sharp look from Niki, before she turned and disappeared.

Tommy then slowly turned his head to look at a scowling Jack Manifold.

“Jack Manibitch.” He mumbled, Jack frowning at him. Did he hear him? Tommy hoped so. Just in spite. And so Jack could know that Tommy thinks of him as a bitch. Cause he is. Definitely not the reason why Tommy loves coming to work. Nope.

“You should quit calling me variations of my name, Tom Innibitch.”

“Shut.” Tommy glared at the bald man.

Niki came back with a new apron. “I couldn’t find any spare shirts or pants, do you mind?”

“Not at all! Thanks, Niki!” Tommy happily took off his wet apron, cringing at the way it felt, before putting on his dry one. Niki only smiled and then turned back around as Bad called her name.

Tommy walked after her, heading out to take over from Foolish, but not before flipping off Jack Manibald, who scowled and crossed his arms.

“Jack!” Tommy heard Bad call out from the kitchen, and Jack rushed over there, but not before glaring at Tommy one last time.

--------------

So, business was quite fast. Must be because the only other really popular cafe rich people like is Boomerville, made by Lazarbeam and Vikkstar, maybe? Tommy can’t remember their names. Anyways, Boomerville was the exact cafe he and Tubbo had come in and absolutely violated and destroyed as villains, so no one was going there.

Tommy hated most customers. He also hated taking their orders. There were many Karens, seriously, how do people not have so much common sense as to not treat poor, unsuspecting baristas as objects for them to scream at. So annoying.

“Ma’am-” Tommy tried.

“My pronouns are-” The woman with bright pink started.

“Ma’am, or whoever you are, I do not care about your pronouns. If you would like for me to call you a coward instead, I will, but I need your name.” Tommy answered as calmly as he could. He is well aware he could be getting fired, but Skeppy likes his antics, so there is a slim chance Bad won’t fire him. Well, not that slim. It’s pretty big.

The woman gasped. “Well-”

“Name.”

“Pixie.”

“Pixie, right.” Tommy grumbled, taking note of that name. “How would you like to pay? We take cash and credit card.” Tommy’s tone was completely void of emotion.

“Cash. I do not have my-”

“Didn’t ask for a backstory. Just yes or no.” Tommy muttered. Definitely fired.

The woman’s face turned red with anger as Tommy wrote her order down.

“You little-”

“Not taking questions right now, coward. Uh. Your total is 7.56.”

“What? That's way too much!”

“Inflation. Do you have a gift card of some kind?”

“No.”

Tommy hummed, before repeating his words. “Your total is 7.56.”

“Ugh.” The woman groaned, before shoving cash on the counter. Tommy began to count it and handed her change. 1.03$ worth of change.

“Your order will be out shortly.”

The woman stormed off in response. Tommy raised his eyebrows. He was quite done with Karen's now. Or Pixie. Whatever kind of name that woman had. Time for another customer that infuriated him.

He looked up.

Oh shit. Tommy thought, staring at familiar, red eyes and pink hair tied into a long braid.

Technoblade.

Chapter Text

Hey there! Mel here.

So I think that I won't be able to continue this, along with my other story, due to personal things. A lot of things have come up, and I am sorry to leave these like this, but my account will be inactive. I also have simply lost motivation to continue posting on here, and you probably just won't see me on ao3 again. Feel free to continue this on your own time, and I will put some plot points that I was going to put in this story. (there will also be a chapter on smart enough similar to this)

Tommy meets techno (kinda? he already knows him but techno doesn't know him)
villain shit.
tommy gets injured, and techno notices them and gets suspicious.
techno is secretly a hero, and so is rest of sbi.
tommy is their brother, who "died in a fire"
this was actually dream putting in amnesia in the sbi, but tommy was like "no" and ran away
tommy was originally neglected by the sbi
tommy grows attatched to sbi as time goes on and techno visits tommy in his cafe daily, and tommy meets the sbi again.
ranboo dies
mourning
villain shit.
tommy and tubbo get cornered by dream in a fight with sbi there.
sbi had been like "no" to dream because dream was killing villains (he killed ranboo) and now dream hates them
dream kills tubbo and takes off tommys mask
dream holds tommy hostage, who is panicking
dream kills tommy in front of sbi
sbi kill dream and are like "NOOO"
sbi get hero licenses revoked
sbi splits up
the end!!!

again, i am very sorry i wont be continuing my works. thank you all for reading this far.

sincerely,
Mel