Light Purple Velour
Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x You/Reader
Currently 135k words
SUPER slow slowburn
Chapter 19 - Maybe Far Away
Summary: Slow Burn that will tie directly into 28 years later the bone temple and alter the timeline. we will see what happens beyond the canon ending. Reader is recruited as a Finger and falls for the son of satan
Tags: captivity, stockholm syndrome, religious guilt, satanism, extremely slow slowburn, like extremely slow, torture, implied/referenced rape/non-con, eventual tie in to the film, canon typical violence, manipulation, masturbation, grinding, morally ambiguous reader insert, sexual tension, unresolved sexual tension, voyeurism, virginity, vaginal fingering, dry humping, dry sex, cunnilingus
disclaimer: Age up to 18+ in Chapter 14, before that only backstory
on ao3 @butterflyoverthesea
Chapter 19 - Maybe Far Away
Jimmy Ink flexed her jaw, left to right, it made a terrible clicking sound. She had slept on her side, facing away from her sister. She hated sleeping on her side, somehow her body always shifted and hardened in the night, leaving her feeling lopsided for an entire day. But she could not take it anymore, she did not want to open herself in Bat’s direction. The past two nights she could hear her breathing heavily, clearly wide awake, shifting, rustling, even whispering. It made it impossible for Jimmy Ink to come to rest.
Did Jimmy Bat think she was deaf, or just stupid? She could hear her whispering. Something was going on, though she couldn’t yet put her finger on it. But she was used to hunting, used to laying low, hiding in the grass, to strike at just the right moment, when it is least expected.
She had a suspicion that there was something more to Sir Lord Jimmy’s words when he had congratulated Jimmy Bat after her kills. He sometimes dealt out compliments to the Fingers, but it was specifically how Jimmy Bat had turned rosy that triggered a narrative in Jimmy Ink’s mind.
But there was something else too, the tiniest glimmer of envy, building itself up inside of Jimmy Ink. The holy son of satan, their grand dark master, had selected the newest of the Fingers to, seemingly, take favor in, while she herself had served him the longest, been there from the very beginning, and Sir Jimmy had once told her that he had calculated her to have possibly been born on Judgement Day, and that that fact promised her a place upon the mighty Fist because of it. Did that mean nothing anymore? She had done that Alpha in good, and gotten equal praise to Jimmy Bat, when all she did was finish off the demons that Jimmy Noose had already practically dealt with.
Jimmy Ink tried desperately not to grow bitter from it, it was not Jimmy Bat’s fault, not any of it. Sometimes she made it quite difficult to understand her. She insisted upon her principles. Sometimes she could be jumpy, a real scaredy cat, or other times hesitant to enact charity on anyone besides grown men. Children, women, elderly, it seemed to affect her, make her struggle to lift a knife, when really it should double her fun. And she lived with her head in the clouds, always singing or fiddling with things, looking off in the distance, a head full of nonsense, Jimmy Ink decided. But it was also those same qualities that Jimmy Ink, begrudgingly had to admit to herself, endeared her to Bat as well. She wasn’t cut from the same cloth as most of the Fingers, perhaps because she had spent so long in the clutches of god-honoring people, and though she had made leaps and bounds to serve Old Nick and partake in their ways, she was simply her own free spirit. And somehow, besides her many short comings, her favorite fellow Finger. Though she would never speak the words out loud.
Jimmy Ink sighed, trying to breathe out, in one fell swoop, her past resentments and start fresh with her, a new sun, a new day, a new attitude. She rolled over, still aching somewhat, to look at Jimmy Bat.
She was curled up, sleeping like a little kitten, her wig had almost fallen off, she often struggled with securing it properly to her rather fine tufts of hair underneath. For Jimmy Ink this was never an issue, her real hair grew back in tight red curls, which took the clips of the wig very well, even when doing flips and spins.
Jimmy Ink smiled to herself, and rolled her eyes, grabbing Bat’s wig and smushing it to her head, tussling through the strands in an effort to shake her friend awake.
„Oi, Wakey-wakey spleepyheid!“
She jeered, becoming more gruff with her pushes. Jimmy Bat blinked her eyes open, getting her bearings. Her fingers clawed into the air at nothing, as if something had been ripped from her, but there was nothing there.
She crinkled her nose at the tussling and shoving from Ink.
„Ouch!“
She protested, swatting Ink’s hands away.
„Christ almighty, stop it!“
She grumbled, then clasped her hand onto her mouth.
„Shite!“
She cursed, she would often, especially in such a tired state, slip up and fall back into old expressions. Jimmy Ink never told on her anymore, even though it did leave her somewhat offended on satan’s behalf. It wasn’t right to see the word leave Bat’s lips, all the while breaking the scar of the Petrine cross on the very same face. But she knew that it was just a little slip up, and could see how much she had regretted it right after. Jimmy Ink decided to mess with her.
She raised her eyebrows at Jimmy Bat, as if disappointed, and Jimmy Bat shrunk under her gaze. She was quite easily intimidated by her. Jimmy Ink lingered for just a moment longer, then revealed that she was just playing with her, and chuckled.
„Ye shoulda seen yer face. Yer eyes were like this,“
Jimmy Ink spread her own eyes open into big circles with her fingers, sticking her tongue out, prompting Jimmy Bat to explode into laughter, she shook her head.
„Don’t scare me like that, thought ye were gonnae tell on me again.“
„We’re not kids anymore, donnae worry about it.“
Jimmy Ink huffed, getting up with a great loud grunt. It was true, back when Jimmy Bat was brand new, her slip ups weren’t only frequent, they were constant. So much so that she bore burn marks from punishments she had received for every single time she uttered the words „god“ „Jesus“ or „christ“, as Jimmy Ink had seen it as her duty to report on her and have the fault corrected. It added to her confusion as to why satan would have wanted her upon his mighty fist in the first place, but she did not dare question his will, and eventually dropped it.
Jimmy Ink rubbed some sleep out of her eyes and wiped it on the grass. She looked around camp, besides her and Jimmy Bat most of the others were still sleeping, and yet as always, Sir Jimmy was already wide awake, off by the far away tree-line, probably returning from a morning leak, Jimmy Ink guessed.
Jimmy Bat followed her gaze, and visibly reacted to the sight of their leader. Jimmy Ink took note of this, but quickly swallowed it down.
„Did ya dream anything?“
She said, to break the spell of silence, and Jimmy Bat returned her focus to her. She considered her answer for a moment, then spoke,
„Aye, I dreamed something. But I cannae remember it exactly. It wasnae a nightmare, that’s all I know. It was something good.“
—
They came upon a little strip mall, the signs had mostly fallen down, there were vines climbing up the storefronts and trees sprouting out of the parking lot. Stray, sun bleached papers and plastic scraps whirled in the wind, flattening against the old broken in windows, plastering the place in pale colors. There were restaurants, department stores, and storefronts of which you could not tell from a distance what had been advertised inside.
Empty and unempty shopping carts dotted between cars, rolling on their own in the early spring breeze. As if some had moved over time, and others had been abandoned by shoppers fleeing for their lives on that fateful day which was now almost eighteen years ago.
A lone demon, no Alpha, but a slow crawler missing a leg, was the only living thing around, heaving themself pitifully over the concrete.
Needing only to raise a brow, Sir Jimmy commanded Cornetto to step forward and give it release. Cornetto didn’t even need to brandish a weapon, simply bringing his boot down hard upon his head, flattening the cranium into a dark brown soup. Sir Jimmy bestowed him with an energetic thumbs up, and approached the first storefront, the rest of the Jimmies followed.
He stopped before a large board, with pictures of different meals on them, each square had a little number beside it, the meals looked unappetizing, as time and the sun had bleached the colors of every picture into green and cyan.
„This was a Chinese noodle shop.“
Sir Jimmy determined, hands on his hips, leaning slightly back to tilt his head up and study the menu, scrunching his face together.
„Ah,they were glorious, on special occasions ye would pick up the phone and all you had tae say was one of these numbers, and a lad on a bike would arrive with the corresponding box.“
He explained.
Jimmy Ink curled her upper lip and raised a brow in disgust. They did not look like boxes of food she would want to order, more like rotted and molded intestines. She could not imagine what they must have tasted like.
„But ye could only dae that sort o’ thing a couple’a times a year, it was against the law tae do it more than that. Only after a celebration like a baby bein’ born. Or donations tae the church, would grant such a visit.“
He said, an awe to his voice.
„They look fuckin rank.“
Jimmy Shite said plumply.
Sir Jimmy shot him a nasty glare.
„Obviously, these pictures are old, and not what they actually looked like, ye daft fuckin cunt.“
He snapped. He held Jimmy Shite’s gaze for a moment longer, then resumed.
„And there was a mighty red serpent painted on the box it was delivered in,“
He continued, back to his speech, undeterred after silencing the interruption, his voice regaining that regal edge,
„Likely a tribute. Tae honor Father, as Revelations 12:9 teaches us, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan.“
He finished his speech so theatrically, that we were left in silence, awaiting his next word.
„Howzat?“
He asked, clasping his hands in front of his stomach, and slightly crooking his head, cocky.
„HOWZAT!“
We responded. Jimmy Ink was now excited. This was a special place, and if the boxes with food were delivered from here, then there would be some boxes inside. She was eager to look upon the image of Old Nick, itching to break the door down and take a look around.
„Can we go inside, then?“
She asked.
Sir Jimmy smiled. As always, he waited just a little longer than comfortable to answer, before speaking,
„Yes, Jimmy Ink. Father says tae knock yerselves out.“
He grinned. The Jimmies didn’t need to hear more than that, breaking out in hooting and hollering, Cornetto, in a kicking mood, broke the store window with another well planted stomp, and Jimmy Bat fulfilling her namesake, took a fueled up swing at another smaller window, and, avoiding the sharp edges of the glass, hoisted herself through. She moved as if she was on springs. Jimmy Ink could hardly wait, climbing inside after her, she lightly cut herself on the glass, and beads of blood sprung from the palms of her hand, but nothing too dramatic. Jimmy Ink always made use of the fact that she had a red track suit, simply pressing her hand down against her leg as she perused the store, to act as a sort of scab for the cut, and not whining like a little baby.
Sir Jimmy remained outside, studying the menu further, lost in his memories. He paced back and forth, tapping his fingers to his lip, as if what he was looking at were something complex to decipher.
Jimmy Noose was outside in the parking lot, he seemed hesitant to join in the fun, obeying the always standing orders of maintaining distance like the good guard dog he was, and lingered by the smashed demon, poking at the stump where the leg used to be with his javelin.
Jimmy Bat found many little dark plastic fish, with red cap snouts in a pile behind the counter. She opened one of the caps and sniffed, it smelled salty, flavorful, but a bit spoiled as well. She had thought that perhaps they could use it in their cooking, but it seemed far past its due date, and she dropped it. Humans used to create foods in the shapes of other foods, that tasted nothing like what it was supposed to look like, she had learned. Weirdos.
They quickly found the exact boxes that Sir Jimmy had been raving about, Jimmy Ink grabbed a few and wanted to bring them out to Sir Jimmy, perhaps this would turn back the tide on her. She did not regret that she had spoken out for Jimmy Noose, but she did equally not enjoy the feeling of no longer being in good graces with satan’s heir.
She raced back out, and presented them to Sir Lord Jimmy, who was delighted at the gift and beamed down at her.
„Thank ye, Jimmy.“
He inspected the design.
„Ah, this brings back such memories. I can almost smell it. It was glorious, but not always. For there was a curse upon the food.“
He spoke, Jimmy Ink’s eyes widened.
„Ye see, sometimes you would be eating yer meal, and then your tongue would burn, and ye would begin sweatin’, yer eyes waterin’ and ye couldnae longer breathe. And one time, after I spoke out of turn, Father made me eat three entire boxes.“
He looked at Jimmy Ink with a grim expression. She tried her hardest to remain steadfast, to show no fear.
„If it hurt tae eat, why did ye order it?“
She asked, wanting to move on. But she was also genuinely confused. Human behavior before Judgment Day could be so odd. Why did he miss the food so much if it could hurt so bad? His threat did not escape her, but ruminating upon it wasn’t an option for her.
Sir Jimmy raised his brows, as if to confirm momentarily that his words had gone through to her, then alleviated her by indulging her question.
„It’s too hard tae describe, ye wouldnae understand.“
Sir Jimmy said, and resumed twisting and turning the box in his hands, admiring the design.
„Ye should add this tae yer ink, Ink.“
He joked, tossing her one of the boxes. Jimmy Ink caught it, and considered the notion. He was right, it would be a lovely image to draw, she ripped out the side of the box that bore the serpent that was Old Nick, and stuffed it in her back pocket.
Jimmy Ink lingered a moment longer beside her leader, she had half a mind to make a jab at him, like she had done to Jimmy Bat, some insinuation about two nights ago, but he was far less receptive to her types of jokes and hints, usually reacting badly, the result of which being that Jimmy Ink was ordered to give herself a slap, and especially now was not the time or place, so she let it be, instead joining back into the fun and seeing what else might be hidden inside the shop.
They searched the entire place top to bottom, though not much else of interest could be conjured up. They moved on to the next store, an old book shop. It was much more intact, likely never having been raided before, and kept fairly dry and spoiled-food-free for the past decade and a half.
Jimmy Ink let her hands ripple over the tops of books, all different heights, that were stacked in shelves upon shelves upon shelves. Not all the Jimmies could read, and none of them could read well, though Sir Jimmy was the best best of them, and had tried to teach Jimmy Ink all that he knew. It was enough to read road signs, spellings of food words, the word „Jimmy“, and many things related to the church or satan, and some simple words with few syllables were all fine, but anything beyond that was too advanced. Sir Jimmy forbade traveling with books, he explained that if Old Nick wanted them to know something, he would set it in their path, and that was enough. Jimmy Bat had never revealed if she had been taught to read and write or not, so Jimmy Ink assumed that she was just too ashamed to admit that she could not do either of the two.
The Jimmies loved comics, and magazines with photo stories in them, those made for teenagers that documented their lives and drama, or little funny cartoons that got into all kinds of trouble. The less word bubbles on the pages, the better. That left more room for pictures to tell the stories.
In some of the harshest winters, when she was still very small, Jimmy Ink remembered how Sir Lord Jimmy had opened up a cook book, it was her and Noose and Car back then, and had paged through it, explaining to them exactly how each of the different meals had tasted, and his words filled their starving stomachs for the coldest of nights. Some of the meals she could imagine quite well, if he was able to liken it to a type of meat they knew, or a root or berry, but other meals like „yoghurt“ did not conjure any taste in her mind, it was as if he had been describing colors to a blind person.
Jimmy Ink stopped her perusing fingers, and tried to read some of the backs of the books she had been playing with. It was hard to concentrate, as the other Fingers had begun throwing around pamphlets from the second story, they were throwing paper airplanes at each other, and were having a snowball fight with crumpled up pieces of paper. Sir Jimmy was surveying this with great joy, sitting back in an old comfy looking leather chair, relishing the chaos.
There was only one of them missing, as she often was, Jimmy Bat. Nobody else had seemed to notice, surprisingly not even Sir Jimmy. But Ink remained cool, the little free spirit tended to wander off. She was kept on a loose chain, since she had earned their trust years ago, it was alright for her to stray for a few minutes. But she was the only Jimmy who had never been assigned to search for pastures new. Jimmy Ink had thought that maybe it was an unspoken rule that the newest addition to the fist was not allowed to do so, or perhaps, what was more likely, was that Sir Jimmy feared, way deep down, that if he let Jimmy Bat wander for too far and too long, she would not return to them.
Ink slinked out of the book store, right as she witnessed Shite drop a stack of four heavy looking books right onto Jimmy Junior’s head, to which Jimmy Jam practically leapt up to the second story, crawling her way up by a book shelf as if it were a ladder, to enact revenge, yelling at him, hitting him and cussing him out.
Jimmy Noose had been wallowing around outside, but she now saw him off further away, inspecting the rest of the strip mall. His figure looked thin and measly, compared to the version of him she had known all her life. A pang of concern rose in Jimmy Ink’s chest, but if it was the will of satan, he would put medicine in their way, and that was enough to give her peace of mind.
It was always easy to find Jimmy Bat when she wandered off, one could hear her before one saw her. She was singing softly to herself, her voice carrying lightly above the stormy early spring wind, which was whipping the bleached flyers around the lot.
„Maybe far away…or maybe real near by…“
Jimmy Bat sang quietly, but loud enough to be heard if the wind carried her right.
Jimmy Ink wondered how she had gotten up there, until she saw a pipe that poked out of the wall and went up to a rain shoot and the top of the strip mall. She took a little run toward it, and easily climbed up in less than six paces, landing acrobatically on her feet.
„He may be pourin’ her coffee, she may be straightenin’ his tie…“
Ink’s presence did not deter Jimmy Bat from her song, as she paged through a very old looking newspaper. She was sitting on many more of them. They didn’t just look as old as everything around them, they looked ancient old, as if they were a hundred years old.
„Maybe in a house, all hidden by a hill-“
„Whatcha readin’ Bats?“
Jimmy Ink asked, walking over to her slowly.
Jimmy Bat raised her head, ripped from her concentration, and smiled weakly. Her eyes were welled up and red, nearly filled to the brim with tears. Had she not heard the tone in her voice as she sang, Ink might have assumed that they were irritated from the high winds, but she had clearly been crying.
„Old newspapers. I’m jus’ looking at the comics.“
She straightened out the page and showed it to Jimmy Ink.
„Look. That’s Little Orphan Annie. She used tae be my favorite.“
She said, wistfully.
„I havenae seen her since I was wee. Me parents had a whole book with her stories. They said she was popular when their parents where still wee. Which is longer ago than I can even imagine.“
Jimmy Bat sounded almost frightened by the idea of something being so ancient.
Jimmy Ink raised her eyebrows, impressed.
„Never heard of her. Lemme see.“
She settled herself next to Jimmy Bat, and took away her paper. There were four little squares, and in each one, the little girl was doing something different. She was scrubbing the floors, and washing dishes, and in the last box, she was praying at her bedside. A cold shiver ran down Jimmy Ink’s back, this was sacrilege.
She gave Jimmy Bat her newspaper back, wordlessly.
A singular tear rolled down Bat’s cheek, landing just underneath the pictures.
„They also did a play about it, and movies, with songs. And mother would sing them tae me. She would sing me tae sleep with them every night. It was like it was the only other thing she sung about, if she wasnae singing gospels about…“
Jimmy Bat paused, not wanting to purposefully speak the name „god“, and instead kind of muttered a „hm-hm-hm“ sound.
Jimmy Ink remained silent, not sure of she should entertain such a conversation. Surely, Old Nick was watching them, casting judgement, disappointed in them. Again, her eyes became fixed on the scar on Jimmy Bat, and she became angry that behind that scar, her mind was thinking about prayers, and her mother. But she swallowed it down.
„She's sitting playing piano, he’s sittin’ payin’ a bill. Betcha they’re young. Betcha they’re smart. Bet they collect things like ashtrays and art. Betcha they’re good-“
Jimmy Bat sang softly, and began to cry harder,
„Why shouldn’t they be. Their one mistake was givin’ up me…“
She leaned onto Jimmy Ink, muffling her cries into her suit, Jimmy Ink remained completely still, eyes fixed to the horizon. She was itching to either comfort her, or shake her off, but to do something about the situation to solve it, instead, she did not move a muscle. If satan was watching her, she did not want to slip up. Not like Jimmy Bat was.
„So maybe now this time,“
She sniffled between sobs, still sounding quite pretty,
„And maybe when I wake. They’ll be there calling me baby. May-’
She drew it out, voice becoming clearer,
„-be…“
Her voice trailed off, and now she too emerged her head and had her eyes fixed on the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, and the wind had somewhat calmed itself. The two remained, shoulder to shoulder, Jimmy Bat resting her head, slowly drying her tears, and watched the sun sink lower and lower.
„Do ye think about them a lot, then?“
Jimmy Ink eventually asked.
Jimmy Bat nodded solemnly.
„Did ye dream about them, and didnae want tae tell me?“
Jimmy Ink asked, in the exact same tone.
„Bats?“
Ink coaxed her.
This time, Jimmy Bat shook her head.
„I cannae remember what I dreamt. But it was something good. Dreaming about my parents wouldnae be a good dream.“
They both fell silent for a while. The wind carried smells of spring coming to life, far in the distance birds flew toward the orange and deep magenta, and the sound of the Jimmies fighting downstairs gently broke through the walls.
„What dae ya remember about them?“
Jimmy Ink asked. She didn’t really need a response, she rather began asking herself what she could remember about her own parents. Nothing. She could remember nothing.
Jimmy Bat thought for a very long time.
„I…I remember some bits and pieces. Mostly things from when I was still wee, when I was five. And the way they would look at me. Smilin’.“
She paused for a moment.
„I also remember how stupid they were, puttin’ their faith in that…that liar. Who didnae save them, who is responsible for their deaths. Had they gone tae Old Nick, they’d be sittin’ here with us. I cannae understand how they were so dumb. They didnae seem dropped on their heid otherwise… And I remember that, one day, they were jus’ gone. The next thing I can remember is Sir Jimmy. He saved me.“
Jimmy Bat let out a little laugh.
„And I especially remember his track suit. Somehow that has burned itself into me mind, clearer tae me than all the memories of my parents combined.“
She fiddled with her belt, getting lost in thought again.
Jimmy Ink felt an uncommon sensation, a pang of guilt. Jimmy Bat did not remember that night. The charity enacted upon her family. The cottage. At least, only so little of it that it was nonsensical. But she was glad that the most important lesson stuck.
Jimmy Ink glanced at Bat, sideways, she had to rear her head back, and saw a broken little girl, who had been confused, but her heart was in the right place. She wanted to serve her master Old Nick, she wanted to be saved, and that was enough to make Jimmy Ink lean her head down upon her friend, and put her arm around her, squeezing her once, tightly.
The two of them fell asleep on the roof. They had stayed up until it was very late, not bothering to set up their beds, instead making up their stories like the good old days, and laughing their heads off. At some point, Sir Lord Jimmy had noticed their absence and sent Shite out to look for them, who popped his head up, was pelted with newspaper airplanes, and didn’t bother them much further, Jimmy and the rest of the Fingers slept in the book store, and Noose settled himself in the noodle shop.
Next morning bright and early Sir Jimmy had sent Jimmy Shite up the pipe again to fetch the girls, and after that they threw a rock into the noodle shop to summon Noose.
Jimmy Ink stole away from the clan for just a moment to check on her oldest friend, he had become so sickly and so pale that he nearly matched the lime green of his track suit, a joke which Ink made and he did not appreciate.
She gave him some of the left-over deer jerky and patted him on the back. She then quickly left him, fearing that Old Nick might punish her for the things Jimmy Bat had shared with her the night before, that he might bring sickness upon her as well, and she rejoined the group.
There were seven more shops, which they scavenged all the next day, working their way left to right of the strip. The last one they reached mid day, there was only a placard out front, and it had a heavy door with a glass pane that one could not see through, as it was rippled in a way that caught the light beautifully. Jimmy Ink hadn’t the foggiest idea what kind of institution this was, and the placard bore words she could not read.
Sir Jimmy stepped forward, getting extremely close to the writing, knitting his brows together. He placed one finger along the navy blue lettering, and sounded the words out.
„Drrrrrr….Eye…Iaaa…Ian. Drian…. K…Kellllllso…Kelson. D and R is Doctor,“
He elaborated, as the Jimmies all looked very confused at this mystical word.
„Dr. Ian Kelson - Noose, seems like Father does hae a plan for ye.“
He said grinning, shooting his old right hand man a promising glance.