a series of sbi oneshots

drugs and instincts

hoping this to be really historically accurate with this fic (don't get used to it) so here's some fun facts:

>Tommy's position, Hall Boy was an actual position in a high class victorian household. It was the lowest ranked male servant and they got all the worst jobs. Including, like Tommy does here, shining shoes, and going on errands for other servants. Hall boys could be as young as 14/15 years old
>Gas stoves weren't common in the victorian era, originally that's what they were gonna blame the fire on but yeah turns out no. had to go with candles

>Technoblade is an example of Hybrid Vigor, where a hybrid animal (or person in this case lol) is bigger and stronger than both of their parent species. Like ligers and mules.
>Tommy gets to experience Semi-Accurate Chloroform (ish) instead of Movie Chloroform. Movie Chloroform can take hold in seconds and knocks you out exactly as long as the bad guy needs you unconscious and has no side effects. Semi-Accurate Chloroform takes at least five minutes to knock you out and it doesn't last long at all, and there are tons of fun side effects. Like confusion, nausea, a MASSIVE headache and a lot of Really Bad ones like seizures but listen, this is semi-accurate so Tommy is fine, no seizures he's already having A Day, he gets a break this time.

>Chloroform being the most common surgical anesthetic in the victorian times is the entire reason for this being a victorian AU, brain just latched onto it

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The money jangles as Tommy jumps off the carriage runner. He winces, putting a hand over his pocket to muffle the sound. He glances around, but he doesn't think that anyone has noticed. This is an upper class market, nothing like the ones where Tommy used to pick pockets. They probably beat any street kids that come here within an inch of their lives.

Still, he's paranoid about somebody mugging him. The other servants have told him that the last time a  hallboy who served in Dream’s manor had come back without money and covered in bruises left the same way. Dream did not tolerate any thievery.

Whether it was you that stole, or someone else.

Tommy needs this job. It's the best he's ever gotten, as terrible as it is. He thought that servants lived the cushy life, and the upper levels of one's certainly do. Tommy is basically a servant’s servant, taking care of their beds, setting out their food, and of course, doing any errands they might need.

Which is why he's here in the first place.

The party is in an hour, and the cook decided that he needed the freshest fish possible. So here Tommy is, in the fish market, looking for boats that have just come in.

Snapper, mackerel, and of course salmon, enough to feed the hungry guests.

Tommy scoffs derisively to himself, these rich fops have never been hungry in their lives. Not real hunger. His wings ruffle with the thought of real hunger.

Tommy scans over the market stalls. there, in the very back a man still setting out his wares. Perfect.

Tommy locks his eyes on to the stall and moves to the crowd, weaving through people, trying not to lose sight of his goal. This place is a maze, if he loses sight he may never find the stupid stall again.

And then he runs into a wall.

Tommy falls to the ground with a surprised chirp. He's definitely gotten his clothes dirty, great. They're going to take that out of his paycheck, and his hide.

He scowls up at the wall  that he must somehow have missed.

It's not a wall.

It's a man, a man the size of wall. He's huge, if Tommy were standing up he  would be staring right into the guys belly button.