Chapter Text
Tommy was bored.
That seemed to be more and more of a common occurrence nowadays, seeing there was nothing to do around here.
He wasn’t always bored, Tommy Danger Kraken Innit wasn’t someone you could easily bore. He was always in action, always filled with a new way to cause chaos.
By this time of day he would have usually left chewed gum in the pockets of oblivious cityfolk.
Or he would had tried to get the record for scaling up a building the fastest, which he naturally always won because he is the incarnate of speed itself.
Maybe he would have already thrown rocks at pigeons (and the occasional person) from his rooftop home.
He usually had a best friend by his side to do it all with.
Used to.
Now Tommy was bored. Stupidly, utterly, and undeniably, bored .
All because Tubbo had the audacity to die .
He means, who does that?!
Okay, maybe that sounds bad. Tubbo was dead , but not like dead dead y’know? Yeah, y’know.
Tubbo was the undead .
Garlic eating, sun blazing, bat shitting, blood drinking fucker.
And now, Tommy was bored. And Tubbo was eternally bored.
He means, it’s not like he didn’t try to save him (and himself) from said boredom, he broke into the mansion Tubbo was being held hostage in and everything.
It took forever to find out where it was, but with a little extra pick pocketing money he got some information from a guy hes 90% sure was some kind of mercenary
All that work just to show up and Tubbo tells him how he fucking likes it there, and how he’ll miss him but this is where he was always meant to be.
The only place Tubbo is meant to be is by his side, throwing rocks at pigeons and making fun of that Ranboob kid that works down the street.
Not spend his time with some idiotic, dickwadding Ram.
So now, Tommy was bored and alone. And Tubbo was apparently happy.
Whatever.
After Tubbo casted him away, Tommy found himself moving on from the stupid, harmless stuff he did with his best friend, to attractions that are outright dangerous. Without having someone to cheer him on anymore, the only thing he could do was make his body cheer himself on instead.
By getting the blood pumping a bit, a little extra adrenaline never hurt anybody.
Right?
It was dark out now and Tommy should probably get back home, but he was bored so that was obviously not an option. He had to do something, see something, get his blood rushing.
A suspicious alleyway was right up ahead.
Perfect .
He walked right in, it was an one way alleyway, the other end was closed off with a brick wall, a crusty looking closed dumpster was propped up against it and Tommy took the liberty to hop up and sit on the closed lid, kicking and swinging his legs aimlessly under him.
He didn’t know what to expect, but his Tommy senses were tingling.
Which hopefully means he wasn’t going to be so bored for any longer.
So he waited. The blond spending the time by taking a small piece of concrete and etching out ‘ Tommy Waz Here ’ onto the plastic dumpster lid, effectively marking his territory.
The night was seemingly peaceful, a nice cooling breeze through the air, the moon high in the sky. Then out of seemingly nowhere he finally heard it, a high pitched scream.
When his senses tingled he was expecting a stray cat or maybe some wrinkling hobo to mess around with.
Not exactly a fearful scream-
Eh, its something.
He hopped off the dumpster lid and pressed himself into the small wedge of space between the brick and the trash dump so he could get a front row seat to whatever the fuck decided to show up into the alleyway.
A woman ran into the alleyway, she looks pretty professional for being chased, a nicely ironed dress suit and her long dirty blond hair was nicely curled with a curling iron and at least a several gallons of hairspray, he could smell it from here.
The only thing ruining her business attire was the black mascara streaming down her face with her tears, the broken heal leaving her running awkwardly, and the broken sobs leaving her lips.
He should probably get up and go help, but what the absolute fuck is he supposed to do against that .
That was what looked to be a curly haired brunette male with a yellow sweater tucked under a warm brown trench coat, several different varieties of patches were sewed into the fabric of said trench coat, and he had wire rimmed glasses to push it all together.
With that description he could of been just any other guy you see in a vintage CD shop, or a shitty indie movie about girls falling in love with the ‘quiet, secretive, hot guy’.
The only difference between that and the thing in front of him is that one had piercing red eyes, one had a bone chilling ruthless grin with pointy white fangs, one strolled casually into the alleyway like a lion would stroll into a field of gazelle, ready to pounce.
Give him some popcorn, because this ladies fucked .
And he’s probably next.
Dying would just get him out of this hell hole anyways.
Maybe Tubbo’s soul could still meet him in the skies.
The lady stumbles back into the wall, the best she could do with her broken heel, and her breath goes rapid as she realizes shes cornered, fucked, too entranced in her current situation to realize the blond kid tucked away in a corner beside her.
Red eyed cuntswab is still strolling casually towards her, hands tucked into his pockets to probably hide the deadly sharpened claws that hide in them. He stops right in front of her, so they were probably only about an inch apart and the lady resorts to begging.
“Please-- oh god, please- I’ll do anything--” She repeats, gasping huge heaves of desperate air and broken sobs weaved between her words “I’m- I’m sorry please, sir--”
“Shhh”
The voice was so melodically soothing it even left him speechless , he could listen to that sound for years and never get tired of it, it was like a thousand opera singers mixed all into one mans voice, painstakingly beautiful .
The woman dissolves into blubbering whimpers and small quiet cries at the sound of his voice before shrinking into herself to try and stay as far away as she could.
For as little time as she could.
Micheal Buble with fangs smile gracefully turns to a smug, charming chastise when he pulls a hand out his his pocket to draw his claws down the ladies throat.
“There you go, isn’t that better?” He soothes, cupping the ladies jaw and turning her head to the side, the woman too enchanted with his words to understand the possibility of what he might be doing.
“Just a little taste.” He murmurs, his head turning into the crook of her neck, right on her jugular, everything around seemed to be in a enriching haze, then--
He bit down hard , like ripping down hard , so hard he probably tore out a chunk of her fucking throat. She let out a blood curdling scream and all Tommy could do was stare .
His mouth fell open but he couldn’t even get himself to make a sound.
He’s seen dead bodies before, the city was infested with vampires like a bad case of termites, meaning during his times living on the streets he’s walked into his fair share of alleyways with a fanged marked corpse before.
It’s been a normal for him all of his life, it wasn’t something that fazed him as much as it should.
A lot of people make a big thing out of it when they find a body or two, saying it traumatized them and now they have severe cases of PTSD.
Thing is, its probably true. Seeing a dead body was terrifying as fuck, but Tommy was just used to it at this point, maybe that made him a bad person, maybe he wished he could feel something but numb when he saw one.
But he simply couldn’t.
Which is part of the reason why all he could make himself do was stare at the scene in front of him, too far into shock to move nevertheless call for help.
The lady eventually stopped screaming and went limp in his arms, sips-a-lot did not eventually stop drinking though, sucking her down dry.
He just sat curled up in a ball with his knees to his chest as he watched, stuck within a state of shock, the vampire messily drinking away in front of him, the now corpses blood seeping into the concrete.
Eventually, he did let her go, letting the limp, dead, body hit the ground with a sickening thump, the vampire let go a sigh of relief like he had just drank a cold, crisp glass of water.
Except he had just drank the blood of a once alive woman, the blood covering the rim of his mouth, stained teeth a deep maroon.
Tommy looked down at his feet, anything to try and shake off what the absolute fuck he had just witnessed only to see-
“You got fuckin’ blood on my shoes.”
He could practically feel the fan of air from how fucking fast the bloodsucker whipped his head towards him, eyes blown wide on a blood high now blown wide in surprise.
“The fuck?”
All of the dangerous charm was gone from his voice, the big bad wolf act was up Tommy guesses, and now the dumbfounded crack in his tone only left a strange feeling drifting in the air.
“Blood. All over my shoes, do you know how expensive a new pair is?”
He has no idea how he isn’t screaming, running, on his knees shoving communion wafers down his throat right now, he just feels strangely numb to the scene in front of him. This weird anxiety like feeling churning under his skin that he has no idea what to do with.
Except annoy the fuck out of this shitheads ass.
And maybe get killed for it.
Dying would at least bring him some kind of fun, wouldn’t it?
“What the- have you just been sitting there the whole time?!”
He just shrugs and brushes off all the dumpster dirt he got on him while sitting there, standing himself up.
He was immeadiatey hit with how tall this fuck was, he thought it was just him sitting down but no , this guy was the size of the Burj Khalifa stacked on top of the World Trade Center.
“I was bored.” He hums back as an answer, climbing back up onto the dumpster to sit instead of walking through all the blood, his sneakers were already fucked up enough as it is.
The eiffel towers attention was now all on him, and as much as he doesnt care about dying anymore, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little freaked out by it, he quirked an eyebrow up, something amused dancing in his facial features.
“You were… bored?” Bitch boy questions back.
“Yeah bitch, you got a problem with that?” He retorts, scooching so he could get comfy on the dumpster lid.
“Multiple, including why a child like you is sitting an alleyway voluntarily just watching a slaughter.” He says back unbelievably, like Tommy was lying to him.
“One, not a fucking kid-”
Googly eyes scoffs, “ Please , your practically a toddler-”
“Two, and as I already said , I was bored.” The blonde snarls, scowling back at the Micheal Myers looking bitch.
The dickwad scoffs and leans back against the opposite alley wall, the alley wasn’t too wide so it wasn’t too far away from him, “Aren’t kids like you supposed to, I don’t know , go to the park, eat ice cream, play around with other mortals when your ‘bored’?”
Not when your only friend is immortal .
Tommy huffs defensively and crosses his arms over his chest, “Whats the fun in that?”
“You’d rather watch me hunt than play around with your little friends?”
“At Least I have friends, prick.” He grumbles
Thats a lie.
Arse wipe quirks an eyebrow up, he opens his mouth like he was going to say something but shuts it closed, speechless, a small smile on his lips as he shakes his head. Mumbling fondly under his breath that sounded a bit like ‘gremlin’?
The fuck-
He decides maybe he should keep the glare up. That’ll show him.
“You're quite the kid, aren’t you?” He says, starting to pick himself up from where he was leaned against the wall and walking towards him.
Towards Tommy .
“How old are you anyways, child?”
Tommy snarls wordlessly at the comment, but it sounds more like a childish grumble.
“You gotta earn that information, bitcheyes.”
“Oh?” Ass wrape says with a smirk, looking like he was trying to hold back laughter, “And how could I possibly do that?”
And right then, a beautiful, amazing, very well thought out idea came to mind.
“You gotta fix my boredom.”
This time when the bitchass smiled there was no dramatics, no creepy, sadistic, twist to his fangs. He didn’t know what to call it, the smile was nothing hes ever seen before as a simple street kid.
Maybe fond?
“I guess deals a deal then, child.” He says with a playful hand extending towards him, like this was some sort of business deal.
“Really?”
Tommy truly thought the vampire would just laugh in his face and walk away, maybe leave him dead in the alleyway, but no he actually is going to help him?
He couldn’t stop the childish urge to smile at the curly haired vampire in front of him, who returned it tenfold.
Tommy energetically pulls up his hand to meet the brunettes, only the slightest bit scared it was all just a game of cat and mouse for the predator in front of him, and places it against the others calloused palm.
Emo bitch clasped his hand around the blondes, shaking it in a very professional manner much to Tommy’s inner glee, before meeting his eyes, the cold, withering red was now gone, replaced naturally with a warm maroon.
“Wilbur.” The other introduces.
“Tommy.”
Maybe today wouldn’t be so boring after all.