Thus Always to Tyrants

Let the ransomed be free (as the revel meets the day)

Tommy wakes up Friday morning ready to get the day over with, to be able to discuss his cool ass fucking costume with his friends and get it made and on already. To be able to train and be able to show his family just how fucking capable he is of being as strong (if not stronger) as them.

But now he is in a warehouse.

And well,, their first attempt to train him is,,, humiliating. Tubbo and Ranboo present him with one of those child's boxing stands that's too short for Tommy to even hit with his hands.

"You're joking." he states. Kicking the stand weakly and scowling. "I'm not training with this. " Tommy spat the words at his so called friends, and Ranboo just sighs.

"Told you he wouldn't like it" The tallest mumbled towards Tubbo, who was just laughing his short fucking ass off.

"I know, I know! But isn't it funny? C'mon big man, hit the punching stand like you're supposed to." he teased, poking the scowling vigilante-in-training.

Tommy glared. Picking the punching stand up and throwing it at Tubbo, who barely moves out of the way in time to not get bodied by the toy.

This horrible decision made by the blonde gives Tubbo the idea of throwing things at Tommy and calling it training.

Which brings them to where they are now.

With Tubbo and Ranboo- well, Ranboo -shouting encouragement. Tubbo was shouting insults.

Tubbo why. Fucking prick.

Tommy yelps as he ducks under a- is that a box? -Tubbo throws.

"What the fuck?!"

"You need to learn agility, bossman!" Tubbo calls back, a grin wide on his face. "C'mon!"

Tommy whines (Tommy does not whine, and will deny that this ever happened ever), ducking under a can that was thrown.

"No, I don't!" He shouts this back- at which his friends just laugh in amusement. Throwing more trash and shit they find in the warehouse towards their friend, who dodges to the best of his abilities.

Tommy is wearing his costume. A white jumper made of some fancy material that felt light and easy to move in. white and red accents on the hooded jumper matching tommy's favorite colors. A big black jacket over said jumper- for stealth -Tubbo had said.

His favorite part of this costume is the mask over his face. Wicked and wonderful, and it's even better because it has little to nothing to do with his family. It's his. His and his friend's creation.

The entirety of the situation shoots electricity up Tommy's spine. In the best way fucking possible.

"So...." Ranboo had started, when Tommy had arrived and had gotten changed. Apparently Ranboo was so ecstatic last night he finished his costume early. Meaning Tommy could happily skip his classes today to practice. "Could you explain your uh...powers...a bit better?" he had asked. And Tommy shrugs.

"Weather shit."

"Descriptive, big man." Tubbo had commented, which earned him a smack on the arm from Tommy.

"Ugh, like, yknow. Lightning. Weird electric shit. Sometimes windy fuckin' stuff if i try hard enough." He shrugged, annoyed. At what, he didn't know.

And now he's here. Trying not to die by Tubbo's hands before he even becomes something fucking cool.

"C'mon bossman!! Blow this,, NOT DANGEROUS LARGE CAN AWAY WITH YOUR BOSSMAN ABILITIES!"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT THEY'RE CALLED DICKHEAD!" He tries anyway. Granted, it fails. Because he's never had to use his abilities aside from charging his fucking phone and shocking wil when he sat too close to him on the couch. This earns him a large can in the forehead. "FUCKING HELL-" he rubbed at the spot.