a series of sbi oneshots

lucky charm

Summary:
“Little kid thought he could play with the big boys, huh?” Schlatt taunted, grinning down at Tommy’s bruised face, “You don’t even have a superpower. Pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic is keeping me tied up like this,” Tommy said, filling his words with as much false confidence as he could muster, “Come on, big man. If you’re really so tough, let me loose.”

“Trust me,” the crime boss said, smile still on his face, “There’s nothing I’d love more than turning you into a stain on the ground, but that’s not my decision to make. It’d be rude to break a gift before you gave it to someone.”

Tommy felt his blood run cold. “Gift?” he asked, ignoring the way his voice cracked.

OR: Tommy (also known as the vigilante "Innit") was having a bad night even before he met the city's most dangerous villains.

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If Tommy could have any superpower, he’d probably choose to up his pain tolerance. Sure, it wasn’t flashy. The vigilante knew people who could teleport or fly. He had met a hero who could run as fast as sound, another who could manipulate time, and a villain who could grow flowers from her footsteps.

Still, Tommy would probably get the most use out of pain tolerance.

It took seven punches before his nose finally broke. The vigilante could taste blood running down the back of his throat, thick and nauseating as he tried to get his bearings. Tommy knew he was tied to a chair in a warehouse, but beyond that, not much. Whoever had secured the blindfold around his eyes had done a damn good job.

“Fuck you,” Tommy groaned, blinking his eyes back open. He could almost make out some shapes through the red fabric, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how bad his odds were.

“Come on, Innit,” one of the thugs taunted, hand squeezing Tommy’s face and jerking it up, “You’re not going to beg? Scream a little? You know, if you make this entertaining for us, we might get satisfied quicker.”

Normally, Tommy would try to think of some fun quips to say, maybe a playful swear, but he wasn’t at peak performance right now. Honestly, it was hard enough to even string two words together. His head felt like it was spinning.

“Fuck. You,” Tommy repeated, nearly snarling the words out this time.

The next punch sent him straight to the ground, chin slamming against the concrete flooring. By the time Tommy was able to peel his cheek from the cool stone, a bit of blood had already begun to pool around his face, mostly courtesy of his broken nose.

“Mind your fucking manners,” one of the other thugs growled, cracking his knuckles, “Or I’ll make you learn.”

Tommy fought the urge to roll his eyes. Half the villains in the city, as well as a good chunk of the heroes, had told him the same thing already. A couple of two-bit criminals weren’t going to do shit to his shining personality.

“And how exactly are you gonna do that?” Tommy asked, spitting out a wad of blood. A grunt of disgust told him that he had hit his target. “Planning on setting a good example?”

Tommy was too close to the ground to punch, so the thug just kicked him in the ribs instead.

Prior to getting kidnapped, it had been a standard Tuesday night for "Innit," Essempi City's favorite vigilante. Tommy had been patrolling one of his usual routes, preventing two muggings and making sure that the ladies on the corner of 5th and Kinoko were being treated alright.

And then he had heard it. A woman screaming from inside a warehouse.

Tommy knew what screams like that meant.