dose teeth

correction: thanks to the collector, when i look at gabriel’s scenes, i crack up

whenever gabriel appears, he’s always in bad mood as if someone kicks him repeatedly every single day. the only time he smiles, it’s this creepy ass smile.

the smile is so fake, you want to punch him

but this, this smile cracks me up

Sign Me To Sleep: Part One

Pairing: Bucky x Deaf!reader

Word Count:1,351

Warnings: very angst. torture. blood. mentions of dead. sad. I’m sorry in advance.

A/N: This is most likely going to be a series and I am super excited for it! I hope you all enjoy! Let me know your thoughts and if you wanna be tagged! 

Two - Three - Four -  Five - Six

Your life had being a series of highs and lows, though it mostly consisted of lows. When you were thirteen you got a nasty illness that resulted in hearing loss and muteness. Which no surgeries seemed capable of fixing.

After your third failed surgery, a doctor came to your parents and told them they had a treatment they were sure would work. How worse could it get you had thought. Answer? A lot worse.

The doctor had turned out to be HYDRA and was looking for new test subjects. And you were the perfect one. You couldn’t speak or scream. And you wouldn’t be able to question or understand what was going on. 

He kidnapped you and killed your family. They had figured with your family gone, you would be much more compliant. And they were right. You were scared out of your mind, your family had just died and you were barely sixteen years old. 

You had just started to learn how to read lips, and were fluent in sign language. None of the HYDRA agents bothered to try and communicate with you, so you had to try your best to understand what they were saying, which was no easy feat, considering they spoke Russian fairly often.

The days mainly consisted of sitting in your cell or tests being run on you. HYDRA was insane, not caring that you were only a kid. In fact, you believed they enjoyed the sight of your body writhing in pain, your mouth open in a silent scream.

You were constantly being drugged and monitored, and had lost track of how long you were there. Your once long hair had been chopped short, and you had lost so much weigh, you could almost count all of your ribs. Doctors were always coming to you, speaking words you couldn’t hear and could barely read, and giving you all sorts of medicines. You had given up fighting a long time ago, learning it was no use, a succumbing to the quiet, lonely, pain filled life.

Every once in a while, when being escorted to the medical lab from your cell, you would see a man with a metal arm and long dark hair. He always seemed to acknowledge your presence, either with a short moment of eye contact or a slight movement of his hand. It was the friendliest gesture you had received since you were captured. 

The metal-armed-man constantly plagued your thoughts, and you made it your goal to find out more about him. You usually ignored all of the conversations around you, not bothering to waste your time. You had learned how to perfectly read lips by now, having spent several years at the HYDRA compound. But now you were reading the conversations of those around you, most of it being medical talk.

You picked up on one conversation between an agent and a doctor who were discussing a soldier- the Winter Soldier. They were discussing a recent mission he had been on and how he had nearly relapsed. You furrowed your brow in confusion, thoughts running through your head. They slowly stopped talking as the metal arm man entered the room. You could only assume the Winter Soldier they were speaking about was him.

He made eye contact with you as he passed, twitching his lip upward in a small, short smile. You tried to return the gesture, but after years of not smiling, it’s like you had forgotten how. He was sat in a large mechanical looking chair at the back of the room, facing opposite of you. You watched as large metal cuffs locked his arms down, and a doctor gave him a mouth guard. You tilted your head to the side; your brows furrowed in interest, the doctors that had been working on you were now by the side of the Winter Soldier.

Metal plates connected with his head as he made eye contact with you again. You immediately knew something bad was happening, the room was now full of tension. You raised your hands, quickly signing that it would be okay, though you knew he probably wouldn’t understand you and it most certainly wouldn’t be okay. 

You watched in horror as his body arched in pain as much as it could under the restraints. His whole body was tense and his teeth were clenched over the mouth guard. The HYDRA members watched him, occasional jotting things down on clipboards.

After what seemed like years, they finally turned off the machine off and his body relaxed. You could feel yourself slowly getting off of the table you were sitting on and moving towards him. The Soldier’s body was covered in sweat and he looked around the room dazed. Aids were removing him from the chair, helping him stand and leading him out of the room.

The doctor who was assigned to you most of the time, Dr. Volkov, turned his head and saw you standing in the middle of the room. He shook his head, clicking his tongue, like a mother would if she saw her child misbehaving. Your eyes widen and you stood perfectly still. He murmured something to another two Aids and they started towards you. 

They grabbed you by your biceps and dragged you back to the medal table. You struggled against their grip as they began strapping you down. You were sick of them using you as a toy. Dr. Volkov stalked over to you, eyeing the table of medical instruments next to you. 

“We’re trying something new today Y/N,” you read. He smiled at you pulling a case of syringes from the table. You bared your teeth, the events with the Soldier that happening just a few minutes prior still fresh in your mind. The aids inserted an IV port and connected you to heart monitor. He picked up one of the syringes and inserted it into the port, and began delivering the drug.

 It felt as if there was acid in your veins, your whole body was one fire as he started the next dose. You clenched your teeth, tears singing your eyes. You had learned long ago that crying was a sign of weakness, and you couldn’t afford that.

Your body arched in pain as he continued on with the injections. As he finished the last one your eyes flew open, your pupils constricting until they were almost fully Y/E/C. 

Dr. Volkov stepped back, ordering the aids to take you to your cell. They began undoing the restraints as you stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath. You were filled with anger as your thoughts began to clear and you glared at the men as they hauled you off the table. They collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain. You kept your gaze on them, vaguely aware that all activity in the room had come to a screeching halt. 

You saw two agents begin to move towards you out of the corner of your eye. While keeping your gaze the two aids, you outstretched your hands to the agents, bringing them both to their knees, their bodies rigid with pain. 

You dropped your hands and sprinted out the open door, running as fast as your frail legs could take you. Anyone you glanced at in the hallway falling to the ground. You turned corner after corner, trying to find an exit.

You stopped to catch your breath in a hallway void of people, and you were dully aware of the blood coming from your nose and ears. Your hands shook as you thought about what you had just done.

A cool arm snaked around your neck, cutting off your air. You struggled, kicking your legs, trying to fight the person. You were drained, barely able to put up a fight. You collapsed to the ground with the person, dark spots beginning to cloud your vision.

You glanced down; noticing the arm around your neck was completely metal. The Winter Soldier. And just before the world went completely dark, you noticed him signing two words. Forgive Me

-

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thefishywitchy  asked:

SoMa 'things you didn’t say at all' maybe?

Okay I have no idea what happened but I haven’t been active much and I really miss these dorks so go ahead and have 450 words of unbetaed crap. Also idk if it even fits the prompt? Sorry Aer lol

//

Soul has never been good at words.

His meister has been known to write page after page of eloquence, but him? He’s no writer.

He fears crowds, hates parties, and, more often than not, prefers the solace of his room than the company of others. Expressing feelings isn’t something that comes up often in the life of a recluse.

So when he realizes that he’s in love with his meister, he’s at a lost. Maka was beauty in the truest sense of word. He loved that she was kind and considerate and a good friend. But at the same time she was brave and determined and ruthless. He loved that none of it contradicted itself. Soul could practically feel his inner twelve year old cringing at how uncool it was to fall in love with your meister. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Still, recognizing his feelings was one thing, but confessing them? Trying to put his emotions into words? He’d rather fight Black*Star one on one.

No, Soul would have to find other ways to express himself.

It was a slow process.

For someone so intelligent, Maka was pretty oblivious when it came to gestures of devotion. He told her he’d always support her, stood by her side as she took them closer to the edge of sanity, and showed her every dark corner of her mind, and nothing seemed to change.

It was hopeless, Soul thought. He had resigned himself to just being a hopeless sap. Until, that is, the day Maka asked if she could kiss him. Even if his breath hadn’t left him, Soul doubts he’d be able to answer her coherently. Instead, he communicates the only way he knows how, through gesture. He slowly closes the space between their faces until he can count the freckles on her nose. He stays there, telling her with his eyes that he is more than happy to take it at her pace.
Maka responds in regular fashion, grabbing his jacket by the lapels and kissing him soundly.

They move in synchronized motion, him moving his hand down to her waist to bring her closer and her moving her hands through his soft hair. There’s a fair dose of awkward teeth clanking and noses bumping, but Soul is too distracted by the fact that he’s kissing Maka to care much.

True, Soul might not always be able to vocalize what he feels, but, he thinks as Maka gasps his name in response to his love bites, sometimes actions speak better than words.