I WANNA FUCKING TEAR YOU APART. ( Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x Reader )
AUTHOR NOTE! I need more suggestions, plz send some! This is dedicated to the lovely @loveoleg <3
pairing: Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x Reader
prompt : Jimmy swore there were no favorites in the group.
word count: 1,000+ words
mini update! here is the link for part 2.
Lilac was your assigned color by Jimmy. Lilac shoes. Lilac socks. Lilac trackies. Lilac chunky earrings. Lilac chunky rings. Lilac ribbons in your hair. Lilac crushed petals smeared on the corners of your eyes. Everything and anything lilac was now associated with you. None of you knew why Jimmy picked that specific color. Was it because it was the last trackies left in the bin? A symbolization of something that none of you understood? Because he wanted it to be known that you held a higher status than any ordinary Finger? Or was it just by pure accident?
Jimmy never said, if anything, he would just smile and avoid answering it. If it was supposed to make you feel special, to make you distinct⎯it didn't work. It only isolated you from the rest of the Fingers. The others got the same seven mixed matched colors. Shades of blue, red, and white. With the occasional, black or orange or plum. The others got matching gold chain necklaces. Matching blonde wigs. Matching upside down crosses on their foreheads. But, you didn’t. Another reason why you were isolated from the group. Your change wasn’t considered enough to be a Finger. It was still you, just in lilac.
It wasn’t that you refused to cut your hair and wear a wig. Or fought back whenever they tried to cut an upside down cross on your forehead. Or stomped your foot at the notion of having to wear a matching necklace and trackies as the rest of them. You wanted that. You wanted to prove your devotion. To prove to every single one of them that you were just as much a believer as any of them. That you had what it took to be a Finger. That you were a Finger through and through. But, Jimmy refused to allow that change. Over and over and over again.
“Your devotion must be shown in other ways. You need not be loud as others must. Yours must be more simple, more meaningful, more quiet. That is how you prove you are one of us.”, Jimmy would say. But, all of you knew the truth⎯Jimmy favored you. Even if he swore he had no favorites, that you were all equal and valued in his mind.
Hesitantly joining the rest of the Fingers at the lake, they part like the red sea at the sight of you, scooting just a little further away and holding their things closer to their chests. Feeling your mood sour at their reactions, you weakly clear your throat, forcing yourself to swallow the thickening lump in your throat. You would not cry. You wouldn’t. Not here. Not in front of them. Not when Jimmy would only accuse them of doing something and they’d hate you even more than they already did. Plopping yourself down on the soggy sand, you could feel the dampness of it seep into your pants, a dark patch already beginning to form on the light lilac fabric.
Resting your chin on your knee, you watch Jones and Snake wrestle in the water, kicking and splashing around as they cackle and snort in laughter. You wanted to join in on the fun, but you knew the moment you stripped down and went to join in, they’d leave. Wiggling your toes deeper into the damp sand, you feel a presence on your right side, not having to turn to know that someone was there. Glancing from the corner of your eye, you had expected it to be Jimmy, following right after you like a clingy little duckling. But, instead found yourself staring at Shite and Jimmima. The blue trackie wearing pair glaring at you, lips curled down into scowls.
“Huh, he finally let you off your leash, fuckin’ little favorite?” Shite snickers, early a dark glare from Jimmima at the nickname.
“Don’t call her that!” Jimmima scoffs, her cheeks flushed red from anger.
“What? Jimmy’s fuckin’ favorite?” Shite taunts, clearly trying to provoke her.
“She’s not his fuckin’ favorite, Shite!” Jimmima argues back defensively, “I am!”
“That’s rich, he hasn’t fuckin’ looked your way in months!” He scoffs, spitting back in her face.
“I’m not his favorite. Jimmy already said that he doesn’t have favorites, we’re all equal in his eyes.” You weakly interject, trying to defend yourself.
“You fuckin’ expect us to believe that?” Jimmima scoffs, her voice harsh.
“Fuckin’ bullshit.” Shite nods his head in agreement.
Wincing softly at their harsh words, a part of you wanted to argue back and defend yourself, but another part of you didn’t want to make them hate you further if you spoke back. It wasn’t your fault that Jimmy favored you over the others, really. You didn’t ask for it. You were sure as hell weren’t aiming for it. It just…happened. And you didn’t know how to make it stop. You didn't want it⎯the favoritism, the extra perks from him. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you avoid eye contact with the pair, staring down at the sand. Everyone knew how Jimmy was around you, lingering stares and hands. Always offering extra food portions and the best spot by the campfire.
“What’d you do to him, huh? Huh?!” Jimmima accuses, “Suck his cock? That what you do to make yourself the fuckin’ favorite?”
“Yeah, when he takes you to pray, you getting on your knees for another fuckin’ reason? Fuckin’ slag!” Shite sneers, spitting a glob of saliva at you.
“Aye, probably sucking his cock when we sleep too!” Jimmima nods, “Fuckin’ slag, trying to get privileges over the rest of us!”
“I’m not a fuckin’ slag, you arsehole! I don’t do that with Jimmy! We just talk, that’s it!” You snap back, cheeks flushing red from embarrassment at the accusations and insults.
“Bullshit! Why the fuck are you the favorite?!” Jimmima scoffs, her voice raising in annoyance. “Ink’s been here the fucking the longest, if anyone should be, it should be her not you!”
Feeling tears bubble up in your eyes as they gang up on you, you wanted to sob at the cruel accusations, it felt like nothing you said or did would make them believe that you weren’t doing anything to get Jimmy to favor you. You didn’t want to be a favorite, you just wanted to be one of them. Chewing on your bottom lip to keep anything from spilling out, you harshly wipe your nose with the back of your hand, feeling eyes burn into the back of your head. Looking over your shoulder, you find the others staring at the three of you, silent but judgemental looks on their faces.
Swallowing the thickening lump in your throat, you don’t listen to their continued insults and accusations, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth to stop yourself from crying. Fuck them. Fuck each and every single of them. Fuckin’ arseholes. Standing up from the sand, you shove Jimmima back as she gets in your face, sending her toppling into the water. Letting out a loud shriek at the cold water, Shite pushes you back, making you stumble before catching yourself at the last second. They should be fucking interrogating Jimmy about his favoritism, not you.
"Don't fuckin' accuse me of shite! Fuckin’ ask Jimmy if you've got a problem! I don’t know the fuck you think I am doing, but I’m not! I’m doing the same shite as the rest of ya’ and he’s…I don’t fuckin’ know what he’s doin’ or thinkin’, but it’s not my fuckin’ fault!” You ramble, unable to take anymore of their accusations.
Tucking your knees up to your chest, you refuse to acknowledge Jimmy, staring blankly at the crackling flames of the campfire. He stroked your hair like you were some kind of spooked little rabbit, trying to coax an explanation out of you. But, you refused to speak of what had happened earlier. It would only worsen things between the group, and you did not want that on your shoulders. Besides, you were sure now that if he did punish the group for excluding you, Jimmima and Shite would come after you. They’d probably slit your throat while you slept. Or maybe they'd shove you in the direction of an infected and pass it off as a tragic mis-step to not get caught.
“( Y/n ), what’s happened? Talk to me.” He coos, his voice un-characterically soft.
“It’s fine, just cold.” You lie, trying to brush him off.
“Something’s upsetting you, lass. Old Nick can see it, I can see it.” He tries again, “I can’t help if you don’t speak. What’s happened? What’d they do to you, hm?”
“Jimmy, just fuckin’ leave it, please.” You snap, voice cracking.
Swallowing the thickening lump in your throat, you stand up from the log, walking away from the group without a second glance. As much as you enjoyed the gentle comfort from Jimmy, you could feel the tension in the air from the rest of the group⎯judging you heavily for getting special treatment that you were getting. Plopping yourself down on a patch of weeds a little distance away, you stare out in the distance, watching the breeze rustle the tall grass. Picking at a piece of grass, you fiddle with the strand, switching between bending it and peeling it apart.
You should leave. You should leave the group before any of them get the chance to hurt you. You should do it. Hell, you could do it. You could leave in the middle of the night. You could travel to the coast. You could stay by the water and see if there were any boats left or lighthouses around to live in. You could fish for your food and boil water. You could survive there. You could. Hearing the crunching of leaves behind you, your hand reaches for your pocket knife, eyes widening in panic. Easing at the sight of it only being Ink, she scoffs, plopping herself down beside you.
“Come to call me a slag as well?” You question, eyeing her warily.
“Stop your fucking crying.” Ink scoffs, “Tears don’t shite.”
“I’m not.” You argue, wiping your cheeks to make sure that you weren’t actually crying.
“Bullshit, can see your stupid red eyes.” She argues back, “Stop it.”
“Fuck off, Ink. The last fuckin’ thing I need is anymore of you cunts fuckin’ with me. I already feel like shite.” You huff, scooting away from her.
“Well yeah, cause we all know that you’re shagging up with Jimmy behind all our backs.” She snorts, scooting to sit closer to you.
Tensing up at her casual accusations, you turn your head towards her, your face flushing a bright pink in anger. Was she fucking serous? Did Shite and Jimmima put her up to this? Kick you while you were down? Tightening your grip on the handle of your pocket knife, you stop yourself from stabbing her to death, knowing that she was far more skilled than you were. Plus, the others would be quick to defend her. Stabbing at the ground with the tip of your knife, you wiggle it back and forth mindlessly, scooping out some dirt and making a small hole.
“Again with the fucking accusations! I’m not doing anything with Jimmy, I promise. We just talk. Since when did talking become the new shagging?” You argue, trying to sound as confident and intimidating as possible.
“About?” She raises a brow, lips curled down.
“Before…this.” You mumble, “What it was like, what we could remember, that’s it. I’m not touching him, I swear. I wouldn’t do that, I’m not like that.”
“I promise, Ink. I’d never do that. I don’t know what I have to say or what to fuckin’ do to prove it to all of you.” You shake your head, frustration mounting up.
Stabbing the ground a little harder, you wiggle the knife back and forth a little more violently, imaging that it was each of their brains. What more did they want from you? To fuckin’ shout it from the tallest hill you could find? You were not shagging Jimmy Crystal. You never had shagged Jimmy Crystal. You never would shag Jimmy Crystal. But, fuckin’ none of them seemed to want to believe you or hear it. Pulling the knife out from the ground, you go to stab the ground, her hand stopping you from bringing the knife down. Staring at her in anger, she gentle guides your knife to lay on the ground, just staring at you⎯as if she was trying to see if you were lying to her.
“They won’t believe you..none of them.” She mumbles, her voice trailing off at the end.
“They’ll probably try to kill you if he shows you any more favoritism." She adds, only making you feel worse.
“I know.” You nod defeatedly.
“Only way to get out of it is to take advantage at this point.” She nudges you, “Make em’ eat shite.”
How writing, in between waiting for poll results to end, has got me feeling theses last few days :
