Everything about The Winter Soldier’s outfit screams I am a wild animal that needs to be restrained. 

His leather jacket resembles a 1940s straightjacket. His face is muzzled so he can’t communicate well. Even his gun holster goes right across his chest rather than across his shoulders, like Steve’s does.

It makes me wonder how many times Bucky tried to escape on a mission before HYDRA created an outfit to remind him that he’s controlled and owned, even when alone.

Baby Doll Pt. 2 (NSFW)

Hey there kitty cats 🐱 You asked for more so I worked overtime to churn this one out. You might need birth control before you read this one. 😈


“Guess what I brought you baby cakes.” Roger plopped down on the cot in your cell and put down a package of hair curlers. One day, when he was in the middle of groping you, you moved your face slowly to meet his gaze and then placed your hands on his chest, grabbing a pen from his top pocket. You wrote the words “curlers” on a napkin and pushed it toward him smiling sweetly. He was much obliged to bring them to you in exchange for your compliance with his gratuitous fondling. You tried not to grimace as he grabbed your hand and placed it on his crotch. “Damn girl can you feel that?“ You fought to keep a tear from rolling down your face as he kept steady pressure on your hand, pressing it into his erection.

“Fuck honey, I’m gonna’ have to pay you another visit later. You know, I did you a big favor bringing that into this wing. It’s contraband. But you know you can count on Roger baby. It’s gonna’ cost you though. My services ain’t free doll. I’ll be back to collect your payment in a day or two. I know, I know you’re gonna’ miss me. But Roger has to lay low.” He flicked his tongue out at you and laughed. “Don’t worry if you can’t get worked up for me baby. I’ve got a little extra to help you get in the mood.” He pulled out a bottle of WD-40 and held it up. “Works on the HVAC and it’ll work on you.” He winked and left, leaving you nauseous and sick to your stomach.

Roger’s repulsive advances weren’t the only thing that you were manipulating to get what you wanted. You had been working diligently towards regaining your own mobility. It was a needed skill now that your sole mission was to trap the Joker into falling in love with you. The doctors jotted down in their notebooks that you were “making progress”. You were agreeable with the staff and they enjoyed your silence. It made you easy to deal with. You were still not speaking and only really smiling or staring off into space. That made you an easy check mark on a nurse’s list which was refreshing when they were used to dealing with raving lunatics all day. Although you were in the criminal wing, they started to force less restrictions on you. They underestimated you, making it easy for you to fall under the radar. You started moving around and that was enough to create a sense of fulfillment for the psychiatrists who worked with you.

The Joker was starting to visit you more often. How strange it felt to be courted by a man who you had witnessed being restrained with a straight jacket and a powerful sedative on multiple occasions. The nights he spent in confinement were especially arousing for you. These were the nights when he was being reprimanded for his extremely sadistic behavior. He put on a show for you. Whenever he drew blood from an unsuspecting Arkham patient, cracked a doctor’s skull or held a nurse by her throat, he made sure that you were in eyeshot, often winking at you in the midst of his violent outbursts. You spent those nights hot to your core, dreaming of him, craving his starry vehemence for causing pain.

Even though you didn’t reply when he spoke to you, he would keep you company, telling you how beautiful you were and entertaining you with bawdy jokes. It didn’t hurt that he was eccentrically handsome. His eyes were like ice picks, cutting into the massive, protective glacier you formed around your heart. And then there was the matter of the gifts he had smuggled in for you. Exotic dark chocolates, fresh strawberries, French macarons direct from Laduree; the surprises were always intoxicating and extravagant.

It was clear that he had a grandiose level of influence, leverage and power that more than qualified him to be the object of your affection. Your power was in your beauty and in the fact that no one thought a living doll like yourself could plot out your own destiny. He was going to see you again tonight and you wanted to make sure that you hooked him completely. You were going to persuade him with your body and convince him to break you out of this place to start a new life of crime together.

Your hair fell into beautiful ringlets after using the illegal curlers but you had no makeup to speak of. You pricked your finger with the sharp metal edge of your cot’s frame and used the blood that bubbled up as rouge, smearing it into your cheeks and onto your lips. There wasn’t much you could do about your standard issued Arkham attire so you stripped down into your bra and panties and fashioned your bed sheet into a sort of toga. The bed sheet was yet another item Roger was able to smuggle in for you and it was an item you envisioned multiple uses for, this being one of them. The ultimate idea was to seduce him and then lure him into bed with you. The funny thing about it was that he always seemed to entice you first, regardless of your efforts.


Joker P.O.V

She wasn’t a big talker but she was easy to please. Y/N wore her feelings on her face. It was there in her eyes and on her lips and in the warmth that grew hotly in her face. I could see right away what types of things delighted her. I was a student of her desire, observing what got a rise out of her and using those things to unscrupulously control her. The doll faced killer liked being under my thumb. She was especially susceptible to my naked acts of mayhem.

She was a special kind of rose that blossomed for bloodshed. I could only imagine how wet it made her to see me lure the new night nurse into my cell and then slam her against the wall, smothering her mouth as she screamed. She blushed at the touch of my outstretched fingers and smiled broadly at all of the raunchy jokes I told her. I had my goons running supplies underneath Arkham in the staff tunnels and with guards in my pocket I was able to get anything in or out of the asylum.

I tucked tonight’s present under my arm and made my way to her cell slipping bribes to the staff that could be bought and injectable tranquilizers into the more difficult employees. Nighty night fuckers. Her cell wasn’t a sealed one now on account of her good behavior so I was able to slip inside and exert my will whenever I pleased. “Hello gorgeous .” I grinned exposing my metal incisors. She got all dolled up for me. I could make out every curve under the sheet she wore. Her body was a perfect vessel for the evil plan I wanted to bury inside her. “I got you a little something.” I lunged toward her and picked up her hand kissing it tenderly. She shuddered and tried to regain her composure. I could tell I still scared her but that she liked it. Mmmm…this one was a gem. I sat on the edge of the bed and patted my lap. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap doll face.”

She smiled and walked toward me slowly and then sat down on me gently. I wrapped my hands around her waist and began rubbing her body with special attention to her stomach and breasts. I grew eager at the thought of her soft and swollen and heavily pregnant. She was my ticket to criminal freedom. A baby meant a chance to pull a heist and roll a baby carriage out to the Bat and make my getaway. I kissed the nape of her neck and thought, I might have to make an army of babies. It would take some work but I’d been breaking her down every day. I’m sure she’d be up to it. After I fully possessed her heart, mind and body, if I handcuffed her to the bed and only dropped by to fill her to the brim with my seed, she’d be up for it. In fact, she’d beg for it.

She was growing antsy in my lap. I was lost in my thoughts and my thick arousal was unavoidable against her nakedness. She squirmed and started grinding into my lap, her body signaling that she was already ready for me. I almost just slipped myself inside her but I resisted it. I wanted her to be a perfect little receptacle so I brought out her present to ensure that. “Do you want to see what Daddy brought you?” She nodded profusely. “Ok honey, take those clothes off and let me show you.” She stripped down to reveal her bra and panties and then shyly removed them as well. Her nipples were already quite large with arousal and I couldn’t help to think of how ridiculously explicit they would be once she was pregnant. I unfolded her gift and wrapped it around her. It was the pretty little apron she had worn at the brutal bakery murder, still bloody and specked with brain bits. Her face lit up and she spoke her first words to me. “Oh Daddy…”

I flipped her onto her back and began kissing her breasts voraciously. She moaned loudly and I had to place my hand over her mouth to shut her up. “Be quiet or I’ll have to gag you.” This only made her seek me out, flipping my erect cock over the waistband of my Arkham sweatpants. She spread her legs widely and I forced my fingers inside of her. I needed to examine her to see if she was slick enough for me. “What was it they found you mumbling over his dead body doll? Iron hand, velvet glove?” I forced the fingers into her tight core relentlessly. Her wetness spilled out of her noisily, signaling that she was truly ready to take me inside of her.

“Spread your legs wider baby.” I scooped her up to ensure she was at the best angle for me to penetrate her. Her ankles were even with my ears as I stabbed into her. I thrust into her violently, not caring that she was now screaming as I slammed hard into her cervix. I felt her tighten and spasm and she cried out as I continued plowing into her. I waited until she was on the brink of her orgasm and then I grabbed her by the throat and thrust into her quickly. “Daddy’s putting a baby inside you doll face.” She erupted on my cock and I felt her creamy orgasm slather my entire shaft. I pulled her up roughly so that her opening was sealed against me and released my hot seed into her, spurting and throbbing into her uterus. I filled her so much that it spilled out forcefully and dripped down her thighs. I quickly shoved a pillow underneath her without pulling out and growled, smacking her in the face. “Pick that fucking ass up. Don’t you dare spill another drop of me.” I knew in that moment that she would be carrying my child. I kissed her forehead and praised the little baby maker with a whisper in her ear. “Mmmm…Good girl.”

Originally posted by mysparklinginsanity

Let us please not forget that the RAFT prison is the Marvel universe equivalent of Guantanamo for super-villains. This is where you put the worst of the worst to make them disappear. Indefinitely. 

This is where Team Cap was put WITHOUT ANY TRIAL OR DUE PROCESS (Remember how Martin Freeman’s character laughed about the idea of anyone getting a trial? Yeah). Wanda is even put in what appears to be solitary (she doesn’t seem to be with the others when Tony visits), and through surveillance video we see her restrained in a straight jacket and collared

The government that Tony’s side is proposing should be put in charge of the Avengers is the one willing to incarcerate anyone who defies them without any civil rights. Or in Wanda’s case, human dignity. 

LIP BITES | pt. two | joker x harley

this might have mild spoilers, but not really bc harley’s origin isn’t a spoiler. part one, masterlist. gif not mine

 in which it’s your usual fucked up love story.

One session turned into two. Two sessions turned into everyday sessions. And everyday sessions turned into something more.

The blonde woman stood in the shower, brushing the steamy tiles in front of her. She cocked her head to the side, looking at her own reflection as she slowly closed her eyes, her bottom lip coming between her teeth. His calloused finger trailed down her jaw, tilting her chin up as he looked down at her lips, Harley’s breath hitching at his intense gaze. She gasped as his other hand came in contact with her bare thigh, gripping it roughly with the need to leave marks. He captured her lips with his own, the violent kiss making her weak in the knees. She threw her hands around his neck, him pushing her against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his tattooed waist, a moan escaping her parted lips.

She opened her eyes again, shaking away the thoughts that have been invading her head since she met the Joker. This wasn’t right, he was her patient, and sure as hell you’re not supposed to fall in love with your patient. But the thing is; she didn’t care. Was that bad? If it was, she doesn’t care either.

She left the shower, checking the time before her session with Mr. J. She was going to be late. How unprofessional, really. She didn’t want to be unprofessional, it’s not like she already was by fantasising like that about her patient, she’d never let herself be out of hand like that! Ha.

She brushed her hair hurriedly, throwing on her clothes and glasses before she rushed out of her room. Her heels clicked against the white floor, her bottom lips still in between her teeth, for a change getting chewed on out of anxiety and not lust. She then made a turn, stopping by the door where she found Alexis standing by. She frowned then, because what’s she doing here? Her and Puddin’s sessions are private.

“Morning.” The fellow Doctor smiled. “I’ve noticed that, how do I put it, your reports are actually empty? Like I get it, he’s fucked, like really fucked, but at least get the decency to say something about it, okay? That’s your job, talk, ask, listen and write down.” Alexis said, Harleen’s eyes now darting down because she has been writing nothing. How could she? All she saw was a beautiful man, yeah maybe his sanity has been missing for a while, but damn, if anything that man was a genius.

“Got it, boss. Now may I? My patient is waiting.” Harleen saluted, making Alexis shake her head, but she nodded and let the blonde pass.

“Mr. J.” She sat in front of him, her usual spot at the table, him being right in front of her, restraining jacket barely any whiter than his skin. “How are we feeling today?”

“Harley, Harley, Harley.” He exclaimed, looking her up and down as she looked back at him, not her usual shy self. “Can you help me?“ 

"That’s what I’m here for.” She leaned in closer and so did he, so close that she could make out every shade of his blue eyes, from the sky to the ocean, the insanity and adoration? She then fell back in her chair, confused at this new emotion found in the clown prince. And then it’s like electricity started pumping through her veins because suddenly his hands were on hers, the restraining jacket left behind and she felt as if she should even be scared, like she should call the guards. But she wasn’t, she only laced her fingers with his, her bottom lip coming in between her teeth.

”Can you get me a machine gun?”

It felt like a dream, because from getting electrocuted and seeing people die brutally somehow didn’t feel like a nightmare in her mind. It’s like a voice crawled inside her head, screaming until she lost track of what was happening anymore and all she heard was him, all she could think was him, all she could see was him. She looked upon him again, the chaos left behind, or just locked away in their minds, as they stood in an Ace Chemicals warehouse. He looked right back at her, his attention fully to her and only her. And when he asked her if she’d die for him she didn’t even hesitate for the yes to pass her lips.

“That’s too easy. Would you live for me?” And when a second yes came from her she didn’t look away, instead she raised her arms as she let her body go numb, falling into the vat of chemicals. It stung everywhere, maybe even more from the collision than the yellow liquid eating away at her skin. But she didn’t care, because it was for him, all of it was for him.

The pale man didn’t even look back, he actually started walking away. He shouldn’t care, the hell was this? And I don’t care he muttered to himself as he rolled his eyes, only to throw off his jacket as he jumped right after her. He dived in, the sensation of the chemicals on his skin way too familiar, but at least now he wasn’t alone. He pulled her up, her now completely white hair stuck to her face as he pushed the wet strands away, Harley coughing a little as she opened her eyes to meet his own. He then leaned down, their crimson lips meeting, and now it wasn’t a dream. It was a lucid dream, because Harley has been thinking about this moment ever since she met the him, and now they were kissing. And now she belonged to him.

Just Like You - Part 3 [Harley Quinn x Joker]

Summary: Where the rest of the world sees a deranged psychopath, Harleen Quinzel sees a man. A man capable of loving her, in his own twisted way. This is her transformation into Harley Quinn, starting at Arkham Asylum. Part I - Part II

Anything you want I’ll give it up
Lips, lips I kiss
Bite me while I taste your fingertips
Day drunk into the night
Wanna keep you here

Harleen stood by the coffee machine when the lights suddenly flickered, then they went out. Through the darkness she heard the other persons in the staff room abruptly stand up, the scraping of chairs against the tiled floor. Her heart beat faster as an icy chill rushed down her spine. She remained completely still, waiting, listening.

Was it already time?

The other doctors and nurses mumbled worriedly to each other, while she remained standing with full attention. The sound of heavy steps came closer, and when the emergency light switched on a minute later she saw an orderly stand in the door, breathing harshly and motioning at her.

“Quinzel, you must come at once.”

She saw more guards running past in the corridor outside, with their weapons ready. “What’s going on?”

The man’s eyes moved quickly around the room. “It’s about patient 2671. Something’s happened - ”

She was already halfway out the door when Dr. Valdez spoke up. “It’s my patient, so I’m going. If you don’t mind, Dr. Quinzel…”

Harleen turned her head around only to give her the hardest, cutting glare she could manage, staring her down. The violent impulse was back, but she had more important things to focus on at the moment. The other woman remained unfazed, coming closer.

Harleen simply pushed past the orderly and hurried down the corridor, her body moving in the direction of his cell on its own accord, as she heard the guard accompany her. She had already passed two corridors and one staircase, too impatient to wait for the elevator, when he stopped her.

“There’s something you must see, Doctor,” he said and gestured her for her to go into the other direction, that lead away from the maximum security floor and down to the lower floors.

Her jaw was locked tight, the tension spread through her and fueled the impatience. “What?” she snapped. “I’ve got to see my patient at once.”

“He is under control,” the guard replied – his words intended to calm down having the opposite effect on her. She needed to get to the Joker now, what happened?

“Follow me,” the man said apprehensively and she forced herself to follow, away from the cell again.

He lead her quietly down to the lowest floor above the parking garage, where the staff locker rooms were – a place mostly used by the guards and nurses. Her heart beat in rhythm with her rushed steps and she vaguely noticed the increased presence of staff.

They stopped in front of the large male staff restroom, close to the locker rooms. The guard stopped her at the door that was guarded by two orderlies, giving her full view of the restroom.

“The police is on its way, don’t touch anything,” one of the guards commanded sternly. She looked down and noticed her heels inches away from thick blood stains. She looked up again.

The room was colored crimson – the tiled floor and the stalls were splattered as if someone had taken a huge paintbrush and flicked it. In one corner, by the dripping sink, there was a big lump of something fleshy and red. The body had been mutilated beyond recognition. The white tiled walls were only partially stained, leaving room for a large, neatly scribbled message across the entire far wall of the room.

The orderly who escorted her winced as he once again looked at the scene. In large, bold red letters it was written, accompanied by a big, wide smiley face.

Bring Quinzel back.

Keep reading

how could you go on with your life knowing you actually hurt harry like i’d put myself in a restraining jacket and beg him to sue my ass for all i’m worth and then have him drive over me with the 1d honda civic 

//ok but an AU where Maya is a renown psychiatrist and she’s asked to come help with rehabilitation at a maximum security prison. Nova is a particularly dangerous inmate there who has been giving the wardens a lot of trouble because he’s BIG and he’s always angry, constantly trying to kill anyone who even gets near him. They’ve been keeping him sedated for weeks on end because they don’t want to have to deal with him and any time they wake him it’s just to move him. Of course Maya is curious about him but they tell her he’s a lost cause and he’s on death row anyway for killing so many people. She obviously doesn’t listen and gets into his file and finds out about him having been a hitman that specialized in very gruesome killings. Maya being Maya would want to dig even deeper and eventually convince them to let her talk to him, but he has to be completely restrained in a straight jacket as well as chains and armed guards outside the door..idk I totally feel like she could get through to him//

spookyboo117  asked:

Spooky: Chris? Chris? Come on, wake up!

*Chris was still asleep in the restraining jacket, his eyes glowing purple again.*

(Mod: For everyone that’s most likely confused, I’ll explain. Private RPs. Simple. This is just after said private RP.)

Just a heads up: The new Cross Gene mv (I think it’s called Play With Me?) has a lot of the same issues that Namjoon’s Joke mv did. It’s also set in an asylum and includes shots of the members in strait jackets, being restrained, being hit by a nurse, and being hypnotized. Please be aware of that if you decided to watch it because it could be triggering and if you reblog gifs, please tag them as ableism so people can blacklist them.

omegawest  asked:

She sat down across the table from him. "Good to see you again, Dr. Lecter. I'm so glad you were willing to meet with me again. Perhaps we can start out on a new leaf?"

Sitting opposite her, with his hands cuffed behind his back, he was left in circumstances he was unable to prevent, as much as he found it a dislike of his own. “Good afternoon, Miss West.” Hannibal greeted politely, always trying to sustain this portrayal of the gentleman, because he was one…behind the manipulation he embarked on and violence at various times whenever someone was impeccably rude to him or somebody else. “Hm.” He made a sound of amusement and content at her choice of words - the colloquial nature of it. So very informal.

“Perhaps.” He repeated. “I could hardly say no considering my current arrangement.” Hannibal told her, referring to how he was tied to the chair with the cuffs, sitting opposite her - fortunately he could not attack her, for her benefit and his own, and he was more pleased by the fact he need not be restrained in the straight jacket today, or the mask. Although they were being closely watched. “How is school going?” Lecter inquired with curiosity. He wanted to hear. Wanted to know. “You’re still finding it…interesting?”