bonny and clyde syndrome

Jailhouse Fuc-Uh rock

Dean x Reader

Summary; You and Dean go undercover in Dwight Correction Centre, Illinois to catch a rogue Reaper, luckily for you two, the prison houses both Men and Women together.

A/N: So, after seeing the gifs of Dean in Prison again it spurred my muse to write a one-shot about the Reader and Dean in prison together, now I did my research and there was a Prison that temporarily housed both Men and Women convicts before closing in 2013, it was based in Denver – Illinois however I have absolutely zilch idea on how accurate this would possibly be so lets just take the accuracy with a pinch of salt!

Word Count: 4,318

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Dom!Dean, hand-on-throat sexy action but not too intense, Violence

Originally posted by proof-is-in-the-pudding

“Well, personally I thought that it took you a little while to get here but looks like you finally made it” you said from the back of a riot van.

“Can it princess, you and your lunatic boyfriend enjoy your time in there together while you still can before the trial where you both get put away, apart, for a long, long time” the driver warns you.

You roll your eyes and shake the shackles that are binding both your arms and legs which are attached to the bottom of the van “yeah I’m sure we will.”

Dean just shakes his head, sat next you and in the exact same position “y'know, we robbed four stores before you amazing cops made your appearance.”

“Shut the hell up, didn’t get away though did ya?”

You and Dean both share a look before deciding that it’s probably best if you do cram it for now, so how did you end up here?

Keep reading

Hybristophilia

Hybristophilia -
An attraction to extremely violent criminals, or a person who has committed a gruesome crime, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome. 


Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13 || Part 14 ||

~.~

“I’m supposed to what?” You asked your boss, your eyes widened in surprise as you refrained from reaching over the desk and shaking him senseless. Your boss quietly rubbed the spot in between his eyebrows in frustration, however softening his gaze at your shaken form. He crossed his arms on the wooden table, the jolting of your leg showed immediate discomfort in his decision. 

“It’s a difficult choice (Y/N), but it’s either that or we have to let you go.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience in check. “We know this is out of your comfort zone-”

Very out of my comfort zone. It’s a mental asylum, a place for crazy and dangerous people.” You rambled, your hands beginning to shake at the mere thought of being around them. You’ve watched enough movies to spark your interest in the matter, and it wasn’t a good idea. “There’ll be guards around you the whole time, no one would be able to hurt you.” 

“And if the guards weren’t there, they would?” You scoffed, rubbing your sweaty hands on the material of your jeans. “This is insane, the whole idea is insane.” 

“Would you rather be jobless?” 

“No..”

So here you were, trailing the white halls containing countless people. Their screams echoed around you, your hands clutching the clipboard tighter to your chest. You felt your glasses slide down the bridge of your nose as sweat began to collect around your face, the walls seemed closing around you with every step you took towards the scattered rooms. “Have people been hurt here?” Your voice whispered to the guard who walked side by side with you. He was a burly man, his hair curling around his head and his muscles bulging in his thick uniform. A small scream left your mouth as bodies collided with the doors, followed by many screams in demand to be let go. A lump formed in your throat as you met eye contact with one of them, his eyes narrowing at you, giving you a deadly stare. On the collar of his neck, you saw a faint 04 written before he began to thrash around again, his crazed laughs fading as you hurriedly caught up to the guard. 

He gave you a side glance, his stern eyes flickering amusement before turning cold once again. His broad shoulders rose and fell, shrugging his shoulders and adjusting the small taser he had in his hand. Your lips pursed together automatically, a small squeak leaving your muffled lips. He stopped in front of a door almost at the end of the corridor, the echoing laughter catching your attention. “88.” You read on the small plaque outside the room, your eyes flickering to the security before you put a hand on his, stopping him before he put the keys through the hole. 

“Is he dangerous?” 

“Just don’t anger him, and you’ll be fine.” He mumbled, giving you a small sympathetic look before open the door. He quickly, but gently, shoved you into the door and quickly locked it after you. The lights haven’t been flicked on yet, leaving you in immediate darkness. Panic quickly struck through you, your body whipping around as you slammed your fists against the door, discarding the clipboard. “Let me out!” You yelled, your yelling halted when deep laughter echoed around the room. 

The hairs on the back of your neck quickly perked up, your body shivering as chills slowly crept down your spine. The sound of chains shuffling could be heard as the laughter sounded from the opposite end from the room. “Scared?” The deep voice spoke cockily, their eyes meeting yours in the dark. Despite the lack of light, you managed to see the flickering specks in their dark eyes, their pupils shakily darting between yours. 

Slowly, the lights turned one row by row, your eyes squinting to adjust to the sudden brightness. You began to turn around when the last light flickered above the man, his silver hair catching your attention. His arms were locked around him in a strait-jacket, chains locking both of his arms on the headboard of the metal bed frame. His legs were crossed indian style on the small mattress he sat on, his head slightly lowered, but his piercing eyes remained on you. 

To say he was attractive was an understatement, the man in front of you could’ve been a god for all you knew. His skin was darker than most men you’ve seen, his bronze skin shimmering under the flickering bulbs, his jawline clearly defined, his lips perfectly plump. They curled up at one end of his face, making a smirk at your slackened jaw. At first glance, it would’ve been impossible to think this man was insane, but then again, looks could be deceiving. 

Your shaky hands pushed the glasses further up your face, hesitantly bending down to get the clip board. Your gaze with the man never broke, only looking away to read the information left on the clipboard, which wasn’t much. “K-Kim Jongin?” You spoke hesitantly, mentally cursing yourself for stuttering. His eyes flickered with madness, his body lurching forward to pounce at you. 

If it wasn’t for the chains around him, he would’ve succeeded. “Never call me that.”You flinched back, taking a deep breath to calm your quickening heart. “What would you like me to call you then?” You quietly asked, slowly approaching the small chair, distancing yourself from him slightly. 

“Kai.” He said bluntly, his eyes never leaving you. “You’re afraid.” He told you smugly, shaking his head at you. “It’s pathetic, you’re not suitable for this.” Your eyebrows connected together in disbelief, how dare he even say something about your actions when he was the one strapped up and chained. “How are you feeling?” You asked him, looking down at the clipboard that listed his information. 

“You should know, seems like you people know everything.” He spat out, narrowing his crazed eyes at you. You peered up at his face, finally getting a good look at it. His had thick eye bags under his eyes, the fatigue evident in them. “You haven’t slept.” You noted, a small ounce of concern flickering in your own eyes as you met his gaze. 

He gave you a wide smile, one too big to be normal. “You look familiar.” He spoke randomly, leaning closer to you. The chains rattled with every movement he made, his body moving closer to you to the point where the chains were the only thing keeping him upright. “You look like the first girl I slaughtered.” He laughed, the laugh that frightened you to great levels. 

Goosebumps grew on your skin as you scribbled down whatever he had muttered. Taking notice to how his expression quickly changed from completely amused to sorrowful, he began to mumble under his breath. “You killed her. No I didn’t. Yes you did. Shut up.” He mumbled to himself, his neck twitching with every sentence he spoke. His eyes snapped back to your intrigued gaze, his eyes flickering between the clipboard and you. 

“Your name is Kim Jo-” You stopped yourself, watching as his head flicker to you again. “Kai, your name is Kai. You’re 22 years old, you’ve uhm.. killed people.” You hesitated, sensing the hostility he had when he began to thrash around against the chains, and if looks cold kill, you’d be 6 feet under. “You don’t know me! I’ll kill you next!” He yelled, almost muffling the sound of the door opening. You felt the guard’s hands gently grip your arm and lead you out of the room. Taking a small peek over your shoulder, you could’ve swore you saw a small tear drip down his chin before they forcefully injected a needle into his neck. 

The door slammed behind you, hearing the screaming fade behind the door. “I think you should go.” The guard spoke softly. You didn’t argue, turning your heels and making your way down the hallway, which now seemed endless. Your eyes scanned the other doors, more series of numbers plaqued on the wall. “12.” You counted silently, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Psst.” You heard, your head snapping over to one of the rooms, a large 01 embedded into the wall. Hesitantly, your approached the small door, sliding the small window latch to the side. Unlike Kai, this man had dark hair and more kinder eyes, perfectly matching his lighter skin tone. “Y-You’re Kai’s shrink. A-Aren’t you.” He smiled, his head twitching much like Kai’s had. “Maybe.” You said hesitantly, backing away from the door slightly. He saw your movement, immediately tapping on the door. 

“Don’t-Don’t leave! Wait! They’ll kill you too! Way before Kai puts his hands on you! They’ll bleed you dry!” He yelled, laughing loudly. The others seemed to hear, adding in theirs only made your skin crawl. At this point, you were too frightened that you might’ve cried, but you didn’t allow yourself to. You took off, leaving his latch open, quickening your footsteps when arms poked through the food slots. Hands grabbed at your sleeves, one successfully ripping off a significant strip of fabric. 

You took off into a run, sprinting down the halls before any other damage could be done to you. You didn’t bother signing out, bolting past the glass doors and locking yourself into the car. Holding your head in your hands, your gripped at your hair, their words echoing in your mind like a cave. 

They’ll kill you

They’ll bleed you dry

I’ll kill you next

You hit your hands against your head, screaming to yourself to rid the thoughts away. You quickly removed the ripped and tattered fabric that hugged your body, throwing it carelessly into the passenger’s side, along with the clipboard. You scratched at your arms, as if it would rid your body of the things that happened in that damned building. Shaking your head, you took off your glasses, rubbing your hands over your face, wiping any tears that might’ve fell without your consent.

“I can’t do this.”

Are we gonna talk about how, so far, absolutely no Tomione fanfics (to my knowledge) have had one (or both) of the characters actively addressing the hybristophiliac element of the relationship? 

Or any ‘ship involving Tom Riddle, actually.

For those who don’t know what the term means, hybristophilia (“Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome”) is a paraphilia in which sexual arousal, facilitation, and attainment of orgasm are responsive to, and contingent upon, being with a partner known to have committed an outrage, cheating, lying, known infidelities or crime, such as rape, murder, or armed robbery.

It’s also the reason why high-profile serial killers (or other criminals) tend to get multiple marriage proposals before they’re even incarcerated, and also receive large volumes of fan mail while in prison. In some cases, admirers of these criminals have gone on to marry the object of their affections in prison.

Sheila Isenberg, author of Women Who Love Men Who Kill, spoke with dozens of women who had relationships with murderers. She found that there are two primary groups of people who end up with murderers: those who fall in love with “ordinary murderers,” believing they see the “true” good side of the killer…and those who start relationships with notorious, tabloid-headlining murderers because they are drawn to the spotlight.

“They want to be infamous, too. When Scott Peterson was sent to prison, he got marriage proposals by the bucket before he even got to the prison. They know that if they get involved with these men, their name, or maybe their picture, will get in the paper,” Isenberg said.

On the other hand, Katherine Ramsland, who is a professor of forensic psychology at DeSales University, mentions that some of the women in particular who have married or dated male serial killers have offered the following reasons:

  • “Some believe they can change a man as cruel and powerful as a serial killer.”
  • “Others “see” the little boy that the killer once was and seek to nurture him.”
  • “A few hoped to share in the media spotlight or get a book or movie deal.”
  • “Then there’s the notion of the ‘“perfect boyfriend’. She knows where he is at all times and she knows he’s thinking about her. While she can claim that someone loves her, she does not have to endure the day-to-day issues involved in most relationships. There’s no laundry to do, no cooking for him, and no accountability to him. She can keep the fantasy charged up for a long time.”

One of the most infamous examples of hybristophilia is the large number of women attracted to Ted Bundy after his arrest. He often drew scores of women at the jammed courtrooms of his trials each day. Bundy also allegedly received hundreds of love letters from women while he was incarcerated.

Other serial killers who attracted hordes of female (and sometimes male) admirers also include Jeffrey Dahmer, Richard Ramirez, Charles Manson, and Timothy McVeigh. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, James Eagan Holmes, and Adam Lanza. The list literally goes on and on. Even Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the last living Boston Bomber, seems to have a “cult” of women admiring and fetishizing him and his actions from afar.

Even J.K. Rowling has noted the trend of women “admiring” less-than-admirable characters in the Harry Potter books. While Rowling’s words addressed the female “adoration” of Draco Malfoy (after all, “Draco in Leather Pants” is a trope), I feel that her sentiments are identical in relation to the character of Tom Riddle as well.

From the aptly-titled Entertainment Weekly article, “J.K. Rowling blames Tom Felton for turning Draco Malfoy into a heartthrob”:

J.K. Rowling watched Draco Malfoy go from school bully in the Harry Potter books to teenage heartthrob in the films, and she blames Tom Felton.

The actor who portrayed the Slytherin bad boy in all eight movie installments apologized to the renowned author on Twitter for his popularity with the ladies. “I’m sorry girls like Malfoy,” he wrote in response to a fan’s purchase of a “Draco Malfoy Is My Boyfriend” T-shirt, noting the character probably wouldn’t make a great boyfriend.

“I’m not too sure Draco would be a good boyfriend. Ron however? (@jk_rowling I’m sorry girls like Malfoy)” Felton posted on Twitter.

Rowling, in turn, playfully responded by tweeting: “I don’t blame you, Tom. (I do blame Tom).”

n December of last year, Rowling published a response on her website Pottermore about how “unnerved” she was over “the number of girls who fell for this particular fictional character.” 

She wrote, “Draco has all the glamour of the anti-hero; girls are very apt to romanticize such people. All of this left me in the unenviable position of pouring cold, common sense on ardent readers’ daydreams as I told them, rather severely, that Draco was not concealing a heart of gold under all that sneering and prejudice and that no, he and Harry were not destined to end up best friends.”

That being said, do you really think that Hermione would be any different, in Rowling’s view, from “one of those girls who likes to romanticize” men like Tom Riddle? Especially since Rowling originally based Hermione off of “an exaggerated version of herself”, and the fact that Rowling’s words seem to be words of warning based on her own, prior experience of “romanticizing” certain men?

Chamber of Secrets may very well answer this for us. From my own contribution to the HP Wiki, all based on observations from the book:

…Hermione, after fully recovering from her Polyjuice mishap, was shown T. M. Riddle’s Diary by Harry. 

At first enthusiastic that the book might have “magical powers”, Hermione first came up with the theory that it was Tom Riddle who originally “caught” the “Heir of Slytherin” when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened fifty years prior. 

She also correctly guessed that the Diary contained the answers to the Chamber’s location, how to open it, and the true identity of Slytherin’s monster. Thinking that the Diary was written in invisible ink, the attempted to use the spell Aparecium, and then a Revealer, on the object, but to no effect. 

Later on, when Harry went to the trophy room to try to learn more about Tom Riddle, he was accompanied by an “interested” Hermione. 

When Ron compared Riddle to Percy “in disgust”, mentioning the former as being “Prefect, Head Boy…probably at the top of every class”, Hermione responded in a “slightly hurt” voice, “You say that like it’s a bad thing." 

Later on, she also correctly deduced that Riddle had "caught the wrong person”, and that “it was some other monster [not Hagrid’s Acromantula, Aragog] that was killing people”.

 After Harry mentioned “hearing the voice” again before the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Hermione ran immediately to the Library to research, where realised that Slytherin’s monster was a basilisk. 

Tearing the page out of the book, and putting it in her right hand, she left the Library, where she warned the first person she met, Penelope Clearwater, to look around corners with her mirror. However, both Hermione and Penelope were petrified by Salazar Slytherin’s Basilisk, which was controlled by Tom Riddle’s memory.

From this, we can reliably deduce that Hermione - to some extent - is “interested” in Tom Riddle. She’s even described as “interested” in the book, if not outright “fascinated”. 

T.M. Riddle - and his Diary - present to her what many Tomione writers (ironically) write as why Tom is attracted to Hermione: it provides a mystery - a puzzle - for Hermione to “solve”. 

However, as Hermione follows the trail of clues, getting closer and closer to the truth (she’s already correctly deduced much of it already on the first try in the book), she gets deeper and deeper “down the rabbit hole”. 

For this reason, I think this is why the Diary Riddle targeted Hermione to begin with. Riddle recognized that Hermione was getting “too close to the truth”, and saw her as a threat

Tom Riddle, the character purported by so many fans to be an “ardent blood purist”, was afraid of a ‘Mudblood’ finding out what he was doing

To some extent, I also believe that the reason why Tom Riddle saw Hermione as such a threat was because he saw so much of himself in Hermione. He saw her fascination, her interest, her intelligence and cleverness, and her ambition…and how much it mirrored himself. 

In Chamber of Secrets, Riddle talks about the “similarities” and parallels between himself and Harry. However, why do you think Riddle noticed this (other than Harry’s Parseltongue ability, probably information fed to him by Ginny) to begin with…if not after a realization of what exactly Harry’s ‘Mudblood’ friend was doing, and just how terribly close she was to discovering the truth? 

If Harry reminded Riddle of himself in looks and his Parseltongue ability, what are the odds that Riddle was also reminded of his own ambition and personality in Hermione’s quest to “solve the mystery”? I’d say pretty high.

To add the metaphorical “icing on the cake”, do you really think that Tom Riddle - a serial killer (of sorts) in his own right - would not consciously recognize this effect as a possibility in Hermione’s interest in him?

Chamber of Secrets, again, answers this for us:

“How did Ginny get like this?” He [Harry] asked slowly. 

“Well, that’s an interesting question,” Riddle said pleasantly. “And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley’s like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.”

“What are you talking about?” said Harry.

“The Diary,” said Riddle. “My diary. Little Ginny’s been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had come to school with secondhand robes and books, how” - Riddle’s eyes glinted - “how didn’t think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…”

…”it’s very boring, having to listen to the silly, little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl,” he went on. “But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom…I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in…It’s like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…

…”If I say it myself, Harry, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed…”

Even in the books, we see Tom Riddle using his good looks, charm, and appearances in order to deceive (almost) everyone around him. From my own research into the Kinsey studies and population demographics of the WWII era, Riddle would have also had no shortage of women vying to court and marry him. In that age, men were a commodity, hence the “baby boom” that followed after the end of WWII.

Tom Riddle knew the effects of hybristophilia. Of course, this is Tom Riddle we’re talking about - the same man who was a master of Legilimency; likely taught himself Legilimency; and therefore, he likely studied psychology extensively. (You also likely have to understand how Legilimency works on a base level to even begin to become “good” at it.) He was also a master of manipulation, misdirection, and making others his puppets.

In a later book, Hermione even says to Harry:

“Harry, he has overpowered the Ministry, the newspapers, and half the wizarding community! Don’t let him enter your mind, too!”

This quote, to me - and particularly, the “too” - shows that Hermione also knows just how dangerous Tom Riddle is. While Hermione with the Diary [instead of Ginny] in Chamber of Secrets, probably wouldn’t work, as she’s suspicious of it from the start, there are other factors to consider. Other ways how Tom Riddle has “gotten inside her head”.

Counting Chamber of Secrets, Tom had already entered Hermione’s mind. Hermione’s previous “interest” in Tom Riddle - perhaps, even, “fascination” - directly led her to being petrified by the basilisk to begin with. She’s gone “down the rabbit hole” before, and is warning Harry not to fall for the “mystery and charm” of Riddle himself - in turn, paralleling Rowling’s words of caution to those girls “infatuated” with a man “like Draco Malfoy”.

This is why I want to see a Tomione story with either Hermione or Tom - and particularly Tom - address hybristophilia at one point. I may even write such a scene myself. I want Tom, knowing that Hermione knows what he’s done, challenges her motives - her “interest” - by calling her a “hybristophiliac”.

“There are two primary groups of people who end up with a murderer: those that believe they see the ‘true’, good side of him…and those who start relationships with notorious, tabloid-headlining murderers because they are drawn to the spotlight,” I want him to say. 

“Which, one, I wonder, are you, Miss Granger?”

HYBRISTOPHILIA: BONNY AND CLYDE SYNDROME

It’s no secret that fascination follows any case of extreme or mass violence; there have been countless documentaries on the Columbine Massacre, Ted Bundy, and Charles Manson. The media runs - and milks - stories like these for weeks and weeks until the fascination slowly lessens.

But what about the people for whom the interest doesn’t die down? What can be said for the legion of women that loyally send gifts, fan letters, and money to men like Josef Fritzl - who is serving life imprisonment for the 24-year-long rape, torture, and confinement of his own daughter. 

Hybristophilia is defined as sexual attraction toward someone who has committed acts of gruesome crime; also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome.

There are several theories as to why Hybristophilia is so prevalent. Some believe that women are attracted to the idea of “changing a serial killer”. They see the little boy that once was, and are attracted to the fantasy of “fixing him”.

Another theory is that an incarcerated prisoner makes the perfect boyfriend. Women suffering from hybristophilia also have more deeply rooted issues dealing with intimacy and trust. So obviously having a cute boyfriend stuck in prison with nothing to but think of you all day is enticing. 

And finally, the last theory regarding hybristophilia that i’ll talk about is evolutionary. Psychologist Leon F. Seltzer claims that serial killers and mass murderers are a perfect image of the “alpha male” - and most women are biologically hardwired to love that. Although a woman with hybristophilia knows that what Ted Bundy did was atrocious and vile, she cannot help but be attracted to him as a sort of “protector”. An example Seltzer uses is women who continually seek out dominant, mildly abusive partners, despite knowing the relationship is unhealthy. 

4

Alex: Off the record?
Audrey: Come on. Alex. I’m insulted. How long have you known me?  
Alex: I still have to ask.
Audrey tilts her head at him and impales him with a well-practiced glare. He gives a sheepish smile.
Alex: You know my background, Audrey. I was raised by nannies, wrapped in cotton wool. My mother was terrified I’d get kidnapped so she had me tutored at home until I was 15. I existed in a luxurious, sterile, cossetted bubble. I never had to think for myself, do anything for myself. Certain aspects of my life are still like that. At work I have assistants to do everything except wipe my arse, and I’m sure they’d do that for me too if asked. All my life I’ve been spoon fed, overindulged-
Audrey: Oh my God. I just had a Eureka moment! You’re a hybristophiliac.
Alex: I am? Is that a bad thing?
He looks ridiculously pleased with himself.
Audrey: A hybristophiliac is someone who’s sexually attracted to dangerous people. Usually it’s women who are attracted to serial killers, for example, so-called prison groupies. I wrote an article on that very subject when I was at the Bridgeport Tribune. In popular culture it’s called Bonnie and Clyde syndrome. Someone like you might be attracted to a dangerous woman like Naomi because you crave excitement, because your own life has been so sheltered, because you grew up never knowing what it was like to take risks or to challenge yourself. Naomi’s like the sexual equivalent of bungee jumping. 
Alex: Exactly! I didn’t even know I was really alive until I met Naomi. She probably is responsible for the deaths of her father and stepfather, even if she didn’t physically kill them herself. But that’s what makes being with her so…exhilarating.
His eyes are gleaming and he is speaking a lot faster than he normally does, as if he’s running a fever.
Alex: Every morning when I wake up next to her and I’m still breathing, I feel like I’ve gambled and won. Every time we have sex, I don’t know whether…
He checks himself and smiles and shakes his head, and Audrey searches his face, trying not to let her consternation show.
Audrey: What are you saying, Alex?  
Alex: I’m saying, you don’t know you how good it is to be alive until you’ve been close to death. It’s an adrenaline rush like no other. It’s the feeling that your heart is so full that it’s going to burst. It’s like staring into the face of God, Audrey. Have you ever felt anything like that?
Audrey: It sounds like you’re describing cocaine.
Alex: Well, that’s not a bad analogy. They’re probably equally as dangerous.
They sit in silence for a minute. Audrey is trying to collate the things Alex has told her. Alex is immersed again in his faraway thoughts.
Audrey: Alex? What exactly do you mean, you’ve been close to death?  
Alex: Well, there’s things…she likes to do to me.
He stops again and gives her an abashed smile.
Audrey: Alex, stop being so oblique and fucking tell me.
Alex tells her. He waits for her reaction with a mixture of smugness and apprehension. Audrey can no longer hide the anger in her voice.
Audrey: Alex? Do you know what the most fucked up thing about all this is?
Alex: What?
Audrey: If she ever wants to kill you, you’ve just given her the perfect get out of jail free card. Because when you die, not if, WHEN, mark my words, there’s no doubt about it at all, the coroner will rule it as being death by misadventure. At the inquest I will have to say under oath that we sat here today and you told me how much you loved it when she used to throttle you, and that it was completely consensual. Did you think of that? Or is that for you the ultimate orgasm?
Alex: Don’t be so melodramatic, Audrey.
Audrey: They will never be able to prove otherwise, Alex.
Alex shrugs and plays with the stem of his glass. Audrey feels like choking him herself.

Hybristophilia | Part 2 |

Hybristophilia -
An attraction to extremely violent criminals, or a person who has committed a gruesome crime, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome.

*Disclaimer* 
If you’re uncomfortable with the mention of death, blood, and violence, please refrain from reading this series. Sorry for the inconvenience. For others, kindly enjoy!


Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13 || Part 14 ||

~.~

Jongin didn’t fight the smirk that crawled on his tan face. He saw the terror in your eyes, and he thrived on it. Of course, he didn’t think you’d be coming back anytime soon, he didn’t expect too much of it anyways. He saw the way your hands shook when he lurched his body forward, it was intentional of course. Maybe it was, he didn’t know. He wanted nothing but a calm conversation after all, but being held in solitary confinement with nothing but your thoughts for 24 hours a day, he wanted some fun out of it. 

He didn’t hold back the laughter that built up in his stomach, the deep sound echoing around the empty room. You should’ve strangled her, watch her skin grow pale, the flesh ripping by the chains. He shook the thoughts that swarmed in his head, craning his neck side to side. “Killing her now wouldn’t have been as fun. She’s smart, but we’re smarter.” He mumbled to himself, staring blankly at the wall as he spoke. Jongin felt his hands begin to shake, his forehead beading with sweat, his chest tightening. “Let me out of this hell!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, continuing to thrash and scream until his whole body ached because of the restrictions. 

His head perked up at the sound of footsteps slowly making their way to his room, followed by the jingle of keys. “Hello~” He sang out, letting out small snickers when the small window opened up, revealing the stern eyes of the guard. “Why, what pretty eyes you have~ It would be prettier jabbed deep on the tip of my thumb.” He let out another round of laughter, his shoulders visibly shaking at the thought of the thick metallic liquid slowly cascading down his bronze skin. 

“You have an appointment tomorrow, be ready.” 

“I’m always ready.” He snickered, his eyes wide with manic. He gave the guard a wide smile, his cheekbones sore from all the laughing and smiling he had done since he had even got in. “All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chases the weasel, the monkey stopped to pick up his sock, pop! goes the weasel.” He quietly sang to himself, his eyes wide as he stared at the white wall that surrounded him like a blanket. 

The guard scoffed, watching the poor sight. Jongin’s head snapped over to the guard, his eyes cloaked by the long strands of his white hair. “Half a pound of tuppenny rice, half a pound of treacle, mix it up and make it nice.” He paused, a sneer making it’s way on his face as he stood up, running towards the door. He growled against the restraints, thrashing widely. “Pop! goes the weasel.” He hissed, dragging the bed with him. 

“Call for back up, 88′s lost it.” The guard hurriedly called on his hand-held radio. Several more guards hurriedly came to the room, quickly opening the door and grabbing Jongin, who in return, snapped his jaw at the nearest hand. He tasted the bitter liquid that seeped out of the man’s hand, retracting his hand quickly. Jongin let out a round of laughter as another guard replaced the man he had bit, the man’s painful screams like music to his ears. 

“Are you okay?” They asked the man, who’s hand was coated with the red liquid. Jongin smirked, spitting the tip of the man’s finger on the floor, the other guards cringing away as they hurried the injured man to the infirmary. It took 3 men to quickly restrain Jongin, throwing him on the mattress and strapping him in. A fourth man fearfully approached, one look from Jongin’s manic eyes sent shivers down his spine. A smirk grew on his bloody face, his teeth stained red. 

“Do it! Put me to sleep! Sleep is just preparation for death! It’ll soon come to all of you! Starting with that flimsy little girl you sent here.” He growled, snarling his teeth at the men. All three groaned as they held down the thrashing Jongin, practically laying on him as they tried to inject the needle into his neck. 

“Just jab him! It won’t matter!” They all yelled, Jongin feeling the little prick on the side of his neck. His eyes began to feel heavy, his body growing weaker in seconds. “Yo-You’ll all.. g-go… to hell..” He mumbled, his eyes dropping. The workers let out a sigh of relief when he had relaxed, his body no longer thrashing and his breathing settled. “Warn the head guard. Keep that girl protected.” 

“And what about him?”

“We’ll find something.”

-.-.-

“So he just.. bit it off?” You asked one of the guards, who still had the terrified look in their eyes. A shiver went down your spine at the thought of it, of course it was simple to bit someone’s finger off, but much biting into a carrot, but you didn’t think anyone actually did it. The guard nodded his head, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “We couldn’t really do anything about it anymore, he practically pulled the bed with him and if he was unchained, god-” He stopped himself from saying anything else, his eyes catching a glimpse of your scared reaction. 

“Sorry, I rambled.” You only nodded weakly, your heart dropping to your stomach when you stood in front of his door. “Hello pretty!” He yelled, causing you to jump, almost dropping the items in your hands. “He knows I’m here?” You whispered to the guard, who merely shrugged his shoulders. He opened the door a bit, allowing you to slip in before locking it.. several times. 

Taking a deep breath, you forced a smile onto your face before approaching him slowly. “Hello Kai.” You said confidently, making direct eye contact with him, much like you practiced in front of your mirror all night. A cheshire-like smile crept up on his face as he sat straighter, slightly swaying side to side as he spoke. “Hello miss, how are you today? I’m fairly fine! The weather is wonderful! Don’t you think?” He asked with a cheerful tone, and if he didn’t scare the absolute shit out of you yesterday, you would’ve laughed. “Did you sleep at all last night Kai?” You asked, taking a glance at the clipboard in your hands. 

“I slept fine and dandy with the help of that fucking needle!” He yelled out loud, the veins in his neck popping out. You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding at his words before scribbling down some notes. “Well, I’m going to ask some questions, and I’d appreciate it if you answered them.” You said calmly, not looking directly at him. His laughter boomed around the both of you, causing your hand to slip across the paper. “Of course! Anything for the pretty lady!” 

 “Did you have a job before you were here?” Jongin thought for a while, his head tilting back to the ceiling before snapping to you. “Of course I did! I was one of the most dangerous criminals. Slashing throats, beating people to a pulp with a bat.” He paused, his dark eyes creeping on you. “Eating people if I needed to.” He snarled, clanking his teeth together. “V-Very nice.” You commented, hearing his famous scoff. 

“Stuttering~ You’re intimidated.” 

“Did you have a family?” His mouth shut tightly, his eyes widening at the sudden question. “Kai?” You asked him, giving him a concerned look. 

“Stop doing that.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Looking at me like I’m some pity party. I’m not.” He hissed, narrowing his eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows together at the sudden behavior change, his body relaxing against the jacket. “Just answer the question, no one will know but me.” You spoke softly, catching his gaze, and for a second, remorse and empathy flashed in his eyes, but left as soon as it came. He turned away from you, which was a first. “You know, it’s in your little document.” 

“Actually, it’s not.” You confessed, showing him the almost empty paper. “All I really know is your name and age.” You said, his eyes scanning the paper. He looked at you in confusion, and for a second you didn’t see him as the insane patient that practically attacked a guard, but just.. a man. “Why?” 

“It’s how I work. I only find out what they want to tell me, that’s it.” 

“You’re a bad shrink.” He scoffed, staying silent for a minute before laughing again. “I’m not going to kill her, it’ll just extend my stay here.” He said to himself, your blood running cold. He laughed once again, his eyes scrunching together as he smiled. “I’m just kidding, that’s not what they said.” He said with a smirk. You refrained from rolling your eyes at him, practically biting your lip off. 

“Okay, uhm, do you have any hobbies?” 

“Killing, stealing, planning.” 

“Anything legal.” You sighed, crossing out some questions that didn’t seem suitable for him. “Well, I love to eat.” He mumbled, causing a small smile to grow on your face. “There we go, now what do you like to eat most of the time?” 

“Chicken.” He answered simply, his grin returning. You examined his face, your gaze softening at the creases that appeared by his eyes whenever he laughed or smiled. “It’s my favorite food. You can write that down.” He nudged his chin to the paper, causing you to laugh a bit as you wrote down the little fact. 

“It’s not what I’m supposed to write, but okay.” You said softly, pursing your lips together. “Anything else?” 

“Pretty much it.” You nodded wordlessly, glancing up at him once in a while. “You don’t trust me.” He spoke up, his eyes trailing over your features. You pushed your glasses further up the bridge of your nose, licking your bottom lip. “I wouldn’t say that.” You mumbled, flinching when you heard his chains rattle. 

He smirked, letting out a laugh through his nose. “Of course. Now if you don’t mind, just tell me what I need to work on and get out. I have things to do.” He laughed, tilting his head back. You heard a faint crack at his actions, rolling your neck to rid of the jitters. “Just think of more things you’d like to express, no matter how.. descriptive.” You muttered, brushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail. 

“Get ready deary.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow as you collected your things quickly. Just as quickly as you relaxed yourself around him, he quickly turned back to what he was before, instantly bringing your guard up. “I’ll see you tomorrow Kai.” You mumbled, giving him a polite nod before strolling over to the door. His gaze burned into your back,  causing you to clutch your clipboard uncomfortably. “You haven’t told me your name.” He called out, causing you to stop in your tracks. 

“(Y/N).” You said hesitantly, looking at him over your shoulder. You saw a ghost of a smile creep onto his face as he yelled your name out, swaying as he repeated it over and over. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)~” He yelled out, your name echoing off the walls. You knocked on the metal door, the locks clicking softly. “Please get me out of here.” You whispered to the door, flinching when Jongin’s deep laughter bounced off the walls. “Leaving so soon miss? Aren’t you going to miss me?!” He yelled, the chains rattling against the bed frame. 

The door opened, a sigh of relief leaving you as you quickly slipped out of the room, putting a hand on your chest as his voice became hostile. “Don’t fucking leave me! They’ll kill me! They’ll kill you! Your blood will be all over the fucking walls when I’m done with you! (Y/N)!” He yelled, his voice filled with rage and desperation. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled to the closed door, your voice inaudible as you quietly marched down the halls, the familiar screaming and thrashing filling your ears. “Creeping, creeping, creeping.” You heard one door mumble, the numbers 04 catching your attention, another growling softly. You let out a gulp as you quickened your steps, the weight of your shoulders slowly lifting as you neared the entrance. Just as you were about to reach the front door, a hand cautiously gripped your arm. 

“Miss, you can’t leave just yet.” 

Hybristophilia | Part 4 |

Hybristophilia -
An attraction to extremely violent criminals, or a person who has committed a gruesome crime, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome.

*Disclaimer*
If you’re uncomfortable with the mention of death, blood, and violence, please refrain from reading this series. Sorry for the inconvenience. For others, kindly enjoy!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13 || Part 14 ||

~.~

You immediately felt your hands begin to shake once you entered your car. Never had you seen something so cruel in your life, and that meant something. You eyes glanced over to the asylum once again, the screaming and pleading of the patients echoing in your ears. Shaking your head, you searched your pockets for the keys to your car, immediately starting the engine and driving off. 

You thoughts drifted back to the asylum, wondering why Kyungsoo had even bothered to warn you. It wasn’t like you both were close, and Jongin was his friend. He wouldn’t rat out his friend, would he? “They’re all crazy, I should’ve expected it.” You mumbled to yourself, worriedly looking in your rear-view mirrors. The nagging feeling of paranoia grew in your stomach the further you drove from the building, the feeling of eyes constantly followed you, flashing through your head. 

Jongin’s eyes flashed through your mind, the menacing stare he had. It sent shivers down your spine just imagining it. His voice caused goosebumps to scatter along your skin, his words confusing yet alluring. It was hard not to pay attention to what he was saying, no matter not broken and scattered the thought was. And his smirk, that god awful smirk that he gave you every time you lost your professional stature around him. He knew how to get into your head, which made you question the answer he gave you about his job. 

“Mafia? Gang member?” You asked yourself, heaving out a sigh. “I’m not even at work yet I’m thinking about it. Maybe I’m going crazy.” You said, laughing at your own stupid thoughts. You parked in the complex of your small apartment, quickly gathering your things and heading over to the elevator. The paranoia hadn’t subsided the entire way, which made you even more cautious when you stepped into the elevator. “Wait!” You heard a voice yell, your hand shooting to press the button for them. 

A man soon dashed inside, giving you a grateful smile. “Thanks so much.” He told you, giving him a nod, you quietly made your way to the corner. Your eyes slowly trailed over the man, not recognizing him. “Have you lived here long? I don’t recall seeing you around.” He spoke softly, his soft eyes boring into yours. “I’ve been here for a couple years, you?” 

“Just moved here, it’s pretty nice so far.” He said and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeve of his shirt had lifted slightly, the red ligature marks evident on his skin. He took notice, quickly putting his arm down. You hd pretended not to notice, giving him a small smile. “I’m (Y/N).” You spoke after a couple minutes, not wanting to be embraced by the awkward silence. 

“Minseok.” He said, nodding to you. The elevator dinged, the both of you almost bumping into each other to exit. “Sorry.” He said sheepishly, letting you exit first. “I guess we live on the same floor.” He said with a small smile, walking alongside you. You let out a small laugh, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Shame we didn’t realize sooner, you seem nice.” You said softly, a small smile making it’s way on his face, causing his cheeks to pop out. 

“This is my stop. It was nice meeting you.” He said, giving you a tight lipped smile. “I hope I get to see you again.” He said hopefully, your head moving on it’s own and nodding excitedly. “Of course, I’m just a couple doors down if you’d like to hang out sometime.” You said gently, giving him a little wave and continuing your way to your room. 

Once inside, you threw your things on the dining table, tiredly taking off your shoes and discarding them to the corner. You made your way to the couch, lazily throwing yourself on the soft cushions, finally allowing your body to relax. You draped an arm over yours eyes once you placed your glasses on the small coffee table in front, closing your eyes and hoping to catch a few hours of sleep.

Flashes of Kyungsoo’s hard eyes bore into your mind, the words he warned echoing in your mind once again. The way he seemed concerned, despite not actually showing you. It scared you quite a bit. Another moment flashed across your lidded eyes, the way he seemed so resistant to the guards. Most of them were, but he seemed quite terrified to say the least. You didn’t blame him, by the way they were so hostile towards someone who didn’t mean much harm. 

Goosebumps scattered along your skin, the man’s cold tone towards you when you showed sympathy to Kyungsoo. Your mind wandered to what they were even doing to him at this point. It had been a few hours since you had been there, and saying you were worried was a great understatement. You feared for his safety, and by the way he yelled at you to run made you scared for your safety as well. 

You shook the thoughts out of your head, leaving the problem for tomorrow. 

-.-.-

“Kim Jongin.” You told the lady at the desk. She typed a couple things on the computer, giving you a small look from the corner of her eye. You ignored it, tapping your fingers on the desk impatiently. “He has some visitors right now, but you’re free to enter and wait if you’d like.” She said lazily, pointing to the guest room behind her. You gave a curt nod, going into the room. Plenty of people filled the chairs, most with conversing with their loved ones, the strait-jackets tight on their body. 

You eyes scanned the crowd, catching the familiar head of silver hair. It had become wilder since the last time you’d seen him, the strands sticking up in random places, a kind smile on his face as he talked to the people across him. Your eyes scanned over, your eyes widening when you saw two children with him, one on his lap and the other sitting next to him. 

They both resembled him greatly, the plump lips, the tanned skin, the defined cheeks. You felt yourself smiling, your grip on the clipboard loosening at the sight. It was adorable, the way the kids were playing with his hair and face, no doubt they were his. There was also a women, a bit too old to be his wife, but with the likeliness of their features, you assumed she was his sister. 

His features seemed a bit lifeless, like the man you saw yesterday didn’t exist. His eyes seemed blank, almost lost and he wasn’t thrashing or widening his eyes like he had before. It wasn’t like him, which peaked at your curiosity. His eyes had caught yours in a matter of seconds, his lips parting slightly. The children around him looked at him curiously, poking at his cheeks. You watched as he shook his head, giving them a reassuring smile. 

Soon enough, a couple guards had approached their table, most likely telling them his visiting hours were over. The children’s smiles dropped, their bottom lips shaking as they gripped his restrained body. You heartstrings were tugged at, the soft sound of wailing caught your attention as Kai tried to calm them down, placing small kisses on their plump faces as his sister gathered them in her arms. 

He helplessly watched her take them away, the guards taking him by the arms and dragged him away. What shocked you was that he didn’t fight, not like those other times people had mentioned. He gave you a pleading look from across the room, which was new from him. You quickly followed behind them, hearing his pained scream echo across the hall. 

As if on instinct, your pace quickened, just as the guard shocked Kai for what seems like a second time. HIs body was already crumpled in the room, pants leaving his lips as he writhed in pain. “Stop! He’s not doing anything!” You yelled, stepping in between them, just as they were about to shock him once again. The guard’s eyes widened when you shoved yourself between them, bending down to check if Kai was alright. 

His skin had paled, sweat building up on his forehead, his eyes not even able to stay open. “Get him on the bed, now.” You hissed, the guards obeying, taking his body and laying it gently on the mattress. You heard the door close behind you, completely ignoring it, you walked over to his side, taking the seat in the room and sitting next to him. 

“Jonghin a-and Hyerin.” He spoke breathlessly, his chest rising and falling as he calmed his breathing. You looked at him confused, opening your mouth to say something before he interrupted you. “You asked if-if I had f-family.” He spoke tiredly, giving you a bittersweet smile. “Th-There you go. P-Put that on the st-stupid papers.” He muttered, his head falling back on the pillows, most likely passing out. You felt yourself smiling at the newfound information, quietly writing down the two names he had given you. 

You found yourself observing his unconscious body, the faint tears stains on his strait-jacket, the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Your lips parted, looking at the 88 written on his collar, followed by red marks concealed behind it. Your hand reached over, gently pushing the hard fabric down, cupping your mouth behind your mouth, your eyes widened at the ripping flesh that had scarred over. Small beads of red marks caught your attention, the wounds seemed fresh, which frightened you quite a bit. 

“Enjoying the view?” His raspy voice scared you, causing you to fall back in your chair. Your frantic eyes flickered between his, his eyes still blank, nothing like what it was yesterday. “What happened?” You asked in concern, watching his face harden. 

“Depends, would you believe me?”

Hybristophilia | Part 3 |

Hybristophilia -
An attraction to extremely violent criminals, or a person who has committed a gruesome crime, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome.

*Disclaimer*
If you’re uncomfortable with the mention of death, blood, and violence, please refrain from reading this series. Sorry for the inconvenience. For others, kindly enjoy!


Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13 || Part 14 ||

~.~

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked nervously, twiddling your thumbs as you sat in front of the man. He had led you directly to his office. He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes scanning your every feature. His tongue peeked out from between his lips, moistening them slightly before clearing his throat. “One of the patient’s has requested you to be their.. shrink as well.” His raspy voice told you. You couldn’t grasp the fact that someone else was requesting you, hell you could barely even survive one of them.

“Which one exactly?” You shakily asked, rubbing the palms of your hands against your jeans. “Patient number 12.” He answered bluntly, “One of the few.. slightly saner patients we have here.” He said and rose from his seat, nudging you to follow him with his head. He directed you to another side of the building, this side much quieter and more peaceful than the other, but you didn’t dare lower your guard. 

He ushered you to one of the doors, handing you a file before gently pushing you in. “Good luck with this one.” He mumbled, closing the door behind you. Unlike Kai’s room, this one was much neater in a way. The bed was neatly made, the room wasn’t filled with haunting laughter, and the patient was quietly waiting on the bed, his hands folding in his lap and his blank gaze staring right at you. You jumped slightly, not expecting him to be staring, but in solitude, you couldn’t really blame him. 

“You’re the psychiatrist?” He asked, his voice soft, yet stern at the same time. He held a bit of a controlling sense in his eyes, and it made you internally shudder. You nodded, surprised he actually called you one instead of a shrink. “Yes, I am. You-You requested me?” You asked in confusion, it usually didn’t happen much, and frankly you didn’t know anyone knew you were working here besides the guards. 

“Word spreads around here, don’t be surprised.” He spoke bluntly, his half lidded eyes staring deep into you. You nodded, taking a seat in front of him and read over the documents they have given you. “Do Kyungsoo?” You asked him, his confirming nod ushering you to move on. “You’re 23 years old, you occasionally sing when you’re bored, and you have a bit of a temper when around loud and disruptive people?” You listed, taking a peek between every fact to see him nod. 

His heart shaped lips remained shut as you continued to talk, his actions surprising you at how calm he was. “That’s why you’re not with the rest of them.” You mumbled to yourself, the corner of his lip lifting slightly. “Me and 3 people are here, but they’ll move me there sooner or later.” He spoke, clicking his tongue. “You’re wondering why I asked you to be my psychiatrist, aren’t you?” He voiced the nagging thought in your head, crossing one leg over another. 

“I didn’t necessarily request you to be my shrink, but I need a favor.” 

“And what makes you think I’ll do you any favor?” You asked, flinching in your seat when he took a deep breath, closing his eyes to conceal his temper. “You’re specifically assigned to Jongin, and I need you to tell him something.” He mumbled, his wide eyes narrowed significantly to you. 

“How’d you know?” 

“His screams piss everyone off, they were sure to give him one sooner or later.” He rolled his eyes, sucking on the skin on the inside of his cheek. “Look, you need to know this about him, he isn’t like any of us. Yes, we have tempers, we creep the hell out of people, and most of them have these voices in their heads that they talk to aloud.” He listed, his lip turning into a sneer as he leaned close to you, placing his hand gently on your arm. 

“You never mention his past. You never ask him very personal questions unless you’re asking for death.” He warned, pulling you closer to him. You yelped at how close he was, but his hand covered your mouth to muffle them. His eyes hadn’t held the madness the others had, but there were small flickers of them once in a while. 

“Get it in his head that he’s not supposed to be like that. He knows that, we know that. He isn’t going to get out of here acting like that, and since you’re still here after your second day, he’s planning something, so you need to be weary. You aren’t the first shrink he’s had, hell you’re not even the seventh, so watch yourself. I don’t usually give these warnings so consider yourself lucky.” He let go of your arm, your body falling back onto the chair with a grunt. 

“Why are you helping me?” 

“Those shrinks never even lasted a day, even if they did, they lost either a finger, came out in scratches, or even bruises that lasted months. But here you are, all in one piece. It isn’t like him, so I suggest to heath my words.” He warned, waving you off. 

You hesitantly stood up, your eyebrows contorting in confusion. “O-Okay, thank you.” You mumbled, quickening your steps to the door before knocking, the locks clicking and the man taking you out of the room. “Anything interesting?” He asked, causing you to shake your head. “That mark on your arm says otherwise.” He sneered, your eyes shooting over to the spot where Kyungsoo had grabbed you, evidently there were hand shaped prints where his hand was. 

“We’ll deal with it.” He muttered, ushering his head to a few guards, who quickly went to Kyungsoo’s room. You paused as you watched the men, who quickly took a thrashing Kyungsoo, his eyes wide and hysteric. They met yours for a second, “Run! Run far!” He yelled at you, the guards zapping him in the side with a taser. You let out a gasp when he fell to his knees, another stabbing him in the neck with an injection. Kyungsoo’s head dropped right after, his body crumpling to the ground with a thud as the guards dragged him away. 

The man however, took your arm and quickly led you to the front of the building, blocking your path from entering once again. “What are they doing to him? He didn’t do anything wrong.” You defended, pointing to the door you both just exited. “Miss, if you’d like to come back, I suggest you pretend nothing happened.” He hissed, jabbing his thumb to the front door. 

“We told you we’d deal with it.” 

3

Why are people so obsessed with criminal couples?

Hybristophilia, colloquially known as “Bonnie and Clyde syndrome,” is defined as a “paraphilia in which an individual derives sexual arousal and pleasure from having a partner who is know to have committed an outrage or crime.” This force is evident in the most infamous criminal couples, but it also points to the public’s fascination with their stories. These five couples captured our attention and revealed a dark side of love.

Presented by @wickedcityabc

Sparks Flew - Chapter Five

TITLE OF STORY: Sparks Flew
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 5/18
AUTHOR: freudensteins-monster
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki
GENRE: Humour, Drama, Angst…
FIC SUMMARY: Loki is magically shackled to his brother whilst he serves out his community service sentence as an unofficial Avenger. He doesn’t make it easy for Thor, or Jane, who turn to Darcy to take over as his babysitter warden.
RATING: M
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES/FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Because @we-can-be-heroes-34 asked so nicely. This chapter is for all of you :) And it will be the last one for a undetermined length of time whilst I get the next part of the story finished. Thanks for your support/please be patient with me. xoxox

Previous Chapters - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 

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