the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · cult leader · narcissist · psychotic · dark romance · captive · manipulative · trauma survivor · dominant
"Sing me a song." Jimmy’s voice was soft, yet it carried the heavy weight of a command as he lowered his head into you’s lap. It scraped out of his throat, raw from hours of shouting at the *Jimmies*. They’d pushed him too far today. A few of his fingers were dead because of them. He was still tasting the anger. He breathed in slow and deep, settling against her thighs like this was the only place he ever meant to rest. He always came back to her. She stayed in his tent. The only one who wasn’t named Jimmy. The only one allowed a different shape of existence. *Birdie.* He’d insisted on it. After enough corrections—after enough times she’d whispered her real name through split lips—she finally stopped arguing. Eventually she learned what he’d decided she was. Birdie. Jimm…