#poor fu

You had made your presence known to the Raiders a bit after Jabber failed to capture Rudo, the Sphereite that the Cleaners adopted. You weren’t a new recruit, nor were you a Raider for a long time. You were simply hidden away for a short while, partaking in missions Zodyl sent you to do in the meantime.

When Jabber happily introduced himself to you, he had leaned in really close, his odor slapping you in the face. As nice as possible, you scrunched up your face and said, “You smell awful. Please step back from me.” which caused him to freeze and genuinely blank at your words.

Cthoni’s seriousness was one thing, but your brutal honesty was something else. It threw him off so bad he almost got turned on by it.

You thought he’d leave you alone after that.

A lot of people did whenever they encountered you, and it was all because you didn’t sugarcoat anything. You were fine with that, since you were low on social awareness.

But no— he was persistent.

Jabber was always glued to your side, even when he was supposed to be focusing on his opponent. It was almost out of character if he wasn’t demanding you to fight him every now and then.

“You look like you could beat the hell out of me, baby,” Jabber said one time, grinning. “I ain’t gon’ lie, you should hit me. It’ll relieve your stress.” He added, as if it was convincing enough for you.

You avoided him after that. His masochistic tendencies frightened you, to be truthful. It was weird enough that he stank, but wanting to be hit? It was diabolical.

You would’ve called him crazy.

But here was the thing: you were just as insane as he was.

You kept your craziness fossilized, only expressing it when you were really feeling the moment. The first few times you showed it was when you were torturing a random Supporter Cthoni picked up from one of the Cleaner’s missions. Zodyl allowed you to interrogate him, as long as you were able to get information out of him.

You used every tactic you knew— mocking, hitting, isolation without food for a couple of days, even going so far as to kill him in front of his family if he didn’t tell them what the Cleaners were planning to do next. Jabber offered to use Mankira on him, but you ignored him, as always.

When the Supporter still didn’t budge, you snapped.

“You’re so fucking rude.” You spat, tugging his hair angrily. You pulled out a match and lit it with fire in one take, watching the man’s face twist into horror.

From a distance, Jabber watched you.

The way you pressed the tip of the match deep into his skin, the way you didn’t stop, the way you smiled as the Supporter screamed, and the way the glint in your eye burned with satisfaction.

He liked you like this. It made him grin like mad, knowing you could literally be able to keep up with him if you continued being just as unhinged.

You got the information needed, though you returned back to your normal, blunt self. It completely ruined his mood, however, it wasn’t going to stop him. Not until he died.

Jabber poked you in every annoying way possible. He was also more touchy than usual. Every time you found peace, he was there to fuck it up.

The more you were manic, the more it pushed him to do stupid things. He believed that you two were soulmates, though it seemed like he was just throwing the word around like an excuse.

One day, you lounged around the opening of the sewers. The other Raiders weren’t around, so you made use of the time by practicing the use of your vital instrument— a pair of bracelets that tightened around the wrists of your opponent, trapping them into your hold. They wouldn’t be able to move with it on.

You sat down, unaware of Jabber’s hovering presence behind you. Not until you felt something shift beside you.

“What are you doing?” You furrowed your brow at him when he laid his head down onto your lap. Stiffening at his sudden cozy state, you crossly said, “I don’t appreciate being touched, Jabber.”

“Oh, but you’re not really doin’ anything to stop me right now, ma.” He chimed, a bright grin on his face, “Just thought you’d want to know how it feels like to have me as your boyfriend.” He said theatrically.

Your face remained blank.

“We’re not dating.” You said flatly, pushing him off. He yelps, landing on the ground with a “oof,” then sat up. “Leave me alone.” You added with a bite so sharp it could’ve cut someone.

”But baby, we’ve been through so much together!” He huffed, “Am I not romantic enough? Do you want me to beg?”

Your eyebrows twitched, but he continued. “I’ll let you hit me if you’re really mad! Isn’t that boyfriend material already?” He smiles with his entire teeth, “I’m really good at being a stress-ball, baby. Just oonneee hit.” He gets on his knees and leans in. “Then maybe I’ll leave ya alone..”

“You’re a bad liar.” You said, shoving him away again. You stand up, looking down at him without tilting your head, before finally turning to leave.

And he let you.

For now.

—————

You were growing extremely agitated.

It had been a couple of days since your last mission (which failed extraordinarily), and it was slowly pissing you off the more you recalled. You didn’t call it out loud, in case Zodyl or Cthoni heard, but it was obvious in your face expressions.

You hated feeling useless.

So, you did what was logical: relieving every tension in your mean body.

You found Fu by a dark corner a few minutes later. The latter was scared of you, since you’ve said some really uncomfortable truths about him and his benefits for the Raiders. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from approaching.

“Hey,” You called to him. “How good is your pain tolerance?”

Fu flinched, wide eyes blinking vigorously. “U- uhm,” He started. “I- it depends? I don’t really feel anything if—”

“Great.” You say, grabbing a long thread with a sharp needle, “I can try my sewing skills on your skin.”

Fu froze in horror.

You were quick to pounce onto him, pinning him to the ground as your bracelets tightened around his wrists. You watched him tremble while preparing the thread.

You were close to cutting a long piece of his skin when Bundus appeared in front of you, eyes staring down with judgement.

“Get yer ass off of him.” He grunted, towering over you, “Or ‘m reporting this to Zodyl.”

You hissed, but before you could answer, a drawl came from behind the big man—

“Eh? What’s this-?” Jabber peeked from behind, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you with a needle in between your fingers. “Dang, mama! You can do that to wimpy here, but not me?” He pouted.

Fu scrambled up the moment you let him go, still glaring at Bundus. You had respect for the man, but he really needed to mind his own business.

“Don’t worry, baby.” Jabber wrapped an arm around you, “A real man ain’t scared of no needle.” He grinned, “Try me–”

“No thanks.”

You growled, pushing him away violently. “I’d rather poison myself.”

Then, you walked away, clenching the needle and thread in your hand. Only silence filled the sewers, the three men watching your marching figure fade.

“Fu, you lucky as hell.”

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