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Man In The Box

summary: (alice in chains titled) Reader has constantly been getting nightmares of a man trapped in a box screaming out her name for help, Each of the 3 three nights she gets this dream it escalates, leaving the reader restless and near to hospitality, Sam, Dean, and Castiel help her. Dean is going mad over this situation. 

Characters: DeanxReader, Castiel, Sam, and the “man in the box”

warnings: violence, angst, graphic nightmares


Originally posted by jarpadandjensens

“Y/N HELP ME! HELP!” The voice cried helplessly, punching and kicking the box, running out of air, the space shrinking second by second. Y/N got closer to the box without trying to. The box was in the air with the trees, attached to rusted chains. Each moment y/n moved closer to the box, the screaming and crying for her name gradually increased in agony. Whoever it was, y/n felt fear and anxiety beating inside her. The worst anxiety attack she’s ever had, and she couldn’t control her movement or anything. The voice started beating loud in her ears as if it was her own heartbeat. A migraine was the result of the sound, y/n started crying and screaming because of the pain, was she in hell? Why does this pain feel eternal? Y/N wakes up abruptly in the dark drenched in hot sweat. She immediately got up, still feeling the migraine and pain, but it got less with each step she took to the sink. She washed her face and looked behind her to see her alarm clock: 4:44 am, she sighs and gets in the shower refusing to go back to sleep even though she didn’t have to get up for like another 4 hours.

*night 2*

The box got more distorted looking, this time blood was leaking from the edges and cracks of the box in the air, slowly dripping to the earthly ground. Y/n looked down at the blood staining the twigs and dirt beneath her. Then she realized, manacles and chains connected to the box were attached to her wrists. She immediately panics and tries to break free and move from the chains, but each movement got harder and the manacles on her wrist get tighter. Her breath running short and then she hears laughs and maniacal cries from the person in the box. Y/N’s lungs were on fire, she couldn’t breathe anymore and the blood started dripping all over and in her eyes, her vision blurry and dark. She tries to speak, to make sound, but it was useless. Y/n wakes up, her head hitting the hard concrete floor, she groans touching her head, “Ow…” she looks at the alarm clock and it’s 4:44 am, again. Of course it’s sketchy how she’s woken up from the same nightmare 2 days in a row, but no way was y/n gonna go cry to the Winchesters about it, she knew she could handle it. She didn’t need anyone. She never did. She refused to get help, growing up she’s always been told that “crying for help” meant that you were weak, so y/n never peeped a word. Of course, the one that loved her most, Dean noticed, y/n ignored that thought.

After the 3rd nightmare, y/n woke up in tears, the things she was seeing, the things she was feeling, horrible. Y/n sat in the kitchen it was 4:56 am and she was writing in a journal about the nightmare she had again. Her lungs still burning like fire, she tried to suck in as much breath as she could to avoid the pain. It didn’t help much. Dean couldn’t sleep tonight, he kept tossing and turning but after he heard Y/N’s footsteps down the hall he picked up his gun, guard up, and walked out and saw light coming from the kitchen, he peeked and saw y/n sit alone, she looked so exhausted. He noticed the past 2 days she was looking more sick, he tried to talk to her but she would respond the same way every time, “I’m fine, Dean.” And would get up. So stubborn, kind of reminds him of.. well, himself. He walked in the kitchen and still writing, still in her head, she doesn’t notice him. He sits himself down in front of her, the weight of the bench changes and she gasps, noticing him. The circles under her eyes hang heavy. He sighs, “sweetheart, why are you up so early?” Y/n looks up at Dean with a weak smile, “Dean, I’m just an early riser.” Dean replies, “you’re a terrible liar,” y/n lowers her eyes. “y/n, you gotta tell me what’s up, I’m not leaving you alone until you do.” Y/n voice gets heavy and low, “Dean, you mean the world to me, but for God’s sake why do you always feel so obligated to take care of me?” Deans replies quick, raising his voice with anger, “because I care about you! Now something’s wrong and I’m not letting you get away with it, I’m done with that crap y/n!” Dean raising his voice didn’t make things better, if anything, it made her head pound even harder than it did in her nightmares. She grips her head groaning, standing up, y/n suddenly loses balance and it gets dark. Dean’s voice sounded faint, he got up, “Y/N??”

team free will stood in the infirmary of the bunker, y/n was out cold for 2 days. Cas sighs, “I did everything I could… I think she may be under the influence of something evil.” Dean scoffs, “what the hell are you saying? A monster’s trapped her?” Castiel looks at Dean, frowning, “yes,” Sam looks at y/n laying cold on the bed, he gulps and asks, “what do we do?” Cas looks to Sam and says, “I tried getting in her head, it didn’t work, I figured it is because I’m a celestial being, whatever is attached to y/n only wants to tamper with a human.” Dean responds, “okay super then we’ll save her.” Sam hesitates, “wait- Cas are you sure about this?” Cas looks at y/n, “it’s worth a try, but only one of you can enter, too many forces entering y/n’s head more than she can handle, could do more harm than good.” Dean walks over to y/N’s side, caressing her cheek with his thumb, he says, “I’ll find her.” Sam sighs, worried, he looks through y/N’s journal, he just doesn’t understand why the number, 4, is written in every single space of these 3 pages. It doesn’t make sense at all.

Dean wakes up on wet ground, surrounded by trees, he looks around and notices the scenery, “purgatory.” As he stands he turns around when he hears a scream. He runs to the direction of the screaming until he finds Y/N, her legs chained into the ground and her arms stretching from chains that were pulling her, she was looking straight at something, she cried, “-no, -no, no please stop.” Tears were pouring out her eyes as she looked down and around. Dean didn’t see what she was seeing, all he could see was her, trapped and hurt. He moves around to face her, she was scared and looked like she was non stop fighting. Dean gets flashbacks of the time he experienced this with Charlie. But seeing the girl he’s in love with like this, openly breaking down, he’s never witnessed her be like this before. His face shows hurt, he cups y/N’s face in his hands, “y/n wake up!” She still couldn’t see him, she was still in her agonizing state of mind, the terror eating her inside out. Dean suddenly remembers the time sequence she couldn’t stop writing the morning he found her in the kitchen, then he says it calmly, “y/n, it’s 4:44.”

Y/n wakes up, Dean following right after. She gasps for air and looks at Sam and Castiel and they immediately move closer to her sides. Abruptly, y/n chokes on a sob. Tears quicken and she’s covering the sobs with her hand. The emotions get more intense, she falls back on to the bed but Dean catches her, holding her. Moving her face to his chest as she wettens his shirt. She speaks in his shirt, “I-it hurts.” Sam and Cas look concerned for their dear friend. Dean tightens his hold on y/n and she flinches so he loosens his arms. The grip reminded her too much of the pain that was inflicted in her mind.

*that night*


Originally posted by valiantlawyeralmondfarm

Y/n sat in the library staring into nothing, Dean sat himself in the chair beside her. “Y/n I…” Dean wiped his face with one hand. Y/n replies, “dean I’m..” she releases a sharps sigh then looks at him and makes sure he knows that she’s being serious, “I’m scared to sleep.” Dean grabs her hand from her lap, “baby I’m not sleeping either until we figure out what the hell is going on.” He kisses her knuckle, she almost smiled. “Rowena’s old spell book huh?” Dean nods, “Sam and Cas found a remedy in there that they think can help delay your nightmares, for a while anyway.” Y/n scoffs, “you know what? I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever goddamn remedy you have.” Dean gets up and kisses her forehead, “c’mon, let’s go to my room.” Dean carried y/n to his room, knowing it’ll take her a while to readjust and heal from the trauma. Y/n rests her head against his neck, feeling less numb in his warm embrace. Laying her on the bed, dean laid down beside her. Still holding her in his arms, she rests her weary head on his chest. Taking a safe deep breath in, she apologizes to him. “Dean.. I’m sorry I’m never honest with you guys. I just don’t want you all to see me as some weak little bitch.” Dean shook his head, “no, don’t say that. You’re one of the most badass people I’ve ever met. You don’t give yourself enough credit for the crap you put up with.” Dean jokes, “especially me!” Y/n actually managed to chuckle, it was sore but felt light. She plays along, “yeah you’re right, I can’t stand being around someone as sexy as me! Heh, like dude- it’s overwhelming.” Dean rolls his eyes in amusement, “HA!” He smiled leaning into her, “I’m a pretty lucky guy huh?” Y/n sighs, “unlucky to be lucky” the tip of Dean’s nose touches y/N’s and he says, “nah, never” they share a long needed, well deserved kiss. Dean rests his chin on y/N’s head, running his thick hand over her arm, “I’m here baby, I’m not going anywhere.” Y/n hugs Dean closer, accepting Dean’s care officially, instead of saying “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” She surrendered and says out loud to him, “….. I know.” Dean smiled looking down at y/n. He whispered, “my sweet girl.” As they peacefully close their eyes, knowing she won’t have a nightmare anymore, she was sure of it, he was sure of it, because she felt safe, and because he felt love.


Originally posted by ellewritesfix05

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I updated my fic twice in one week after four months with no updates. Who is this literary master we have here? 

It’s totally not because I’m procrastinating doing actual work. 

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Originally posted by rsfiresidetales

Sirius was sprawled on the sofa, a cold cup of tea on the floor below him, a book half-open on his chest and the fireplace crackling down to its embers. 

Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d been much of a reader before. He knew that there was something that made him feel good about this. About lying on a sofa in front of the fire, with books and tea. But when he tried to focus on the words, he just didn’t have the patience.

Which is why he’d spent most of his time staring at the page and trying to remember. Did he like books? What books did he like? Why did he feel so good about books if he couldn’t think of a single one he wanted to read? 

He was woken with a start when someone banged the front door closed. 

“Remus?” He called groggily. It was always Remus, at this time of night. The others came by for meetings but Remus was the only one who slept here. 

No answer, but the footsteps sounded like his, and when he opened his eyes properly he saw familiar curls and a thick jumper that made him smile, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.  

“Hi.” Sirius breathed. 

“Hi.” Remus looked pale and exhausted.

“How did it go?” Sirius thought he already knew the answer.

Remus didn’t say anything. Just walked straight over to Sirius’s sofa and dropped down, face first, next to him. 

Sirius’s chest flipped in pleasant surprise. Remus was always so guarded with him. They barely ever touched in a way that wasn’t clearly signposted, painfully intentional. 

He remembered the careful way Remus had announced each movement as he healed Sirius’s wounds, one by one, in the early days. “I’m going to touch your shoulder now.”  “I’m going to heal this muscle now” “This will feel a bit warm, but it’s okay. We can stop if you want.”

Sirius felt himself missing those days. He hadn’t been touched since. But then again, he didn’t know how to ask. 

The sofa sagged a little as Remus let out a long, deep sigh next to him. He was cold from the outside, but Sirius’s heat was quickly seeping into him where their sides pressed together. 

He looked down at the mess of auburn hair, the freckles at the nape of his neck. Almost instinctively Sirius found himself resting his hand there. 

Remus’s body stiffened and Sirius’s heart caught in his throat. 

Fuck. He never knew where he stood

“Sorry.” He said quickly, pulling his hand back. 

The noise came, thick and muffled, from where Remus still pressed his face into the sofa. “No. Put it back.” 

Sirius blinked. Right. So this was okay? 

Remus let out a huff and Sirius was stroking his hand through the soft strands again before he could stop himself. “S’alright.” He said, without thinking. 

He focused again on the things he knew. 

He knew Remus must have had a long day. Knew he was running errands for Dumbledore that made him come back drained and sad. And he knew Remus was his friend. 

He knew that from the way Remus hadn’t left his side in the early days. Hadn’t let anyone else help him into the shower or heal him. He knew from the way everyone else seemed to know that was Remus’s job. 

So, was comforting Remus his job? And if not him, who else was doing it? Sirius felt a sudden flash of anger at the idea of someone else with their hand in Remus’s hair.  

He looked back down. Looked at the way the back of Remus’s head cupped perfectly into his palm. 

Yes. It was his job.

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i write for — twilight and the lost boys (for now until i get the hang of writing again)

characters who i’ll write for:


jasper hale

emmett cullen

alec volturi

caius volturi







i will NOT write girl x girl or boy x boy fics bc i’m not very comfortable with writing that and i don’t wanna accidentally write or do something wrong and offend anyone.

also NO SMUT. - admin dani

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Title: A Free Spot


“While she was still a commander in the midst of a war, she had to shut out all raw emotion while she watched Levi take down titan after titan, as the airship took her further away from where she had wanted to be. She did too good of a job turning off her emotions then and her last memory of Levi had become a free spot in her mind.”

Slight AU! Levi sacrifices himself in Chapter 132 instead of Hange and Hange deals with the consequences years later.

Written for @levihanweek  Angstober 2020. Prompt: Free Spot

Link to cross-postings: AO3


A part of me felt like Levi should have gone instead of Hange. That is, if one of them had to go. I’d still rather they both lived and got their happily ever after 

I’m in the middle of writing for the greetings and farewell prompt but it’s really just not looking to good rn so I’d rather not share it for now. Hopefully, I manage to get the motivation to finish it up. I’m probably gonna write some fluff and domestic Levihan after this. These prompts are just too heavy haha. 

Either way, I had so much fun writing for angstober. I hope you enjoy and do tell me what you think!

Keep reading

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AWWW thank you!! Sure thing!!

  • It takes a while into the relationship for Hisoka to be around you with hair down and no makeup. He won’t admit it but he’s insecure when it comes to his appearance, feeling like he needs to always dress the part of the act so he has to be comfortable before letting that down. And one night it happens, when he is sleeping over with you and comes out of the shower with his hair. Once he comes into the bedroom you are quite literally drooling at the sight of him and he’s very amused and teasing you. He originally thought it was because he was shirtless which you explain is partly so but it was also because his hair is down and you think it’s a good look on him.
  • That comment catches him by surprise, and ever since he makes it a point to have his hair down around you just to see your reaction. He’ll come over and surprise you, smirking as you stare at him. He will guide your hands through his hair, wanting you to play with it and mess it up. He loves seeing you smile up at him as you play with his hair, it melts his heart and makes him all warm inside. He’ll start covering your face in kisses, his loose hair tickling your neck and face making you laugh at his actions. Oh and he doesn’t stop until you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe.
  • His favorite thing is when you’re sleepy and see him with his hair down. This happens a lot at night, he comes home late and by the time he’s showering you’re falling asleep. Once out of the shower, he climbs into bed and wakes you up, chuckling as you wake up and gasp at him. You always give him a sleepy smile, hands going straight up to his hair as he buries his face into your neck. To start leaving a trail of kisses down it. He’s like a leech on you until you find yourself falling back asleep. That’s when he lays down himself and pulls you against his chest before falling asleep with you.
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DEH/Beetlejuice AU, The Whole Zoe’s Dead Thing

“Connor you can’t just sit there. We have to start unpacking before my dinner on Wednesday.” Larry spoke as his son was draped dramatically over the couch. Movers having just moved it in, with the teenager still on it.

“Does this mean we’re moved in now?”

“Connor we’ve been moved in since we bought the house.”

“Why the hell did mom pick this shack anyway? It smells like cigarettes and glue.”

“That’s just the cleaner they used after the last owner and her son died!” Heidi beamed as she entered the room. Connor raised an eyebrow at his mother decked out in paint stained overalls and construction glasses.


“That’s how we got it so cheap!” Heidi grabbed a large, ugly pressed of modern art from one of the movers and set it by the door. One of her previous attempts at art. “I know this place a bit of a fixer upper but just you watch! It’ll look amazing and if the dinner goes well, Mr. Pasek is going to invest in Larry’s gated community idea!”

“Gated community? Like houses that all look the same with an HOA gated community?”

“Exciting right?”

“No.” Connor was very deadpan. Unable to understand how his parents were acting like nothing happened and everything was great.

“Here!” Cynthia handed her son a light blue crystal. “My guru said this was good for positive energy!” Connor chucked across the room. “That’s not that positive.”

“Connor-” Larry tried chastise his son but the teen was already up.

“Positive? You want me to be positive? Zoe-”

“We’re not talk about Zoe.”

“Why not?!” Connor glared at his father. “Zoe’s dead and you’re acting like nothing happened!”

“Connor. Go to your room!” Larry pointed upstairs.

“I don’t even have a room yet!”

“Go to a room!”

“Whatever!” Connor threw his hands up, storming upstairs into the nearest town and slamming the door shut. He quickly walked out. “That’s a bathroom.” Connor walked down to the next room and slammed that door shut.

“Larry.” Cynthia hummed as she rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Maybe…we should talk to him.”

“He’s fine Cynthia. We just need to give him some space.” Larry stared at the door. What happened to them?

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Wilbur Soot - Year 50

“You’re gonna make it, Wil! You’re gonna -,” Another wave crashes over the top of the raft, pushing it down beneath the waves until Wilbur is sure that he’s about to drown. Wilbur splutters against the sea water, his fingers have gone numb from the cold. 

The wind howls even louder as rain continues to pour down. The raft threatens to break at any moment and they’ll both be goners.

No victors,’ Wilbur thinks to himself as he tries to see anything beyond the terrifying darkness. ‘Nobody but the Capitol to blame for it. Would that be so bad?”

David has stayed right next to him, his right hand pushing down on Wilbur’s left so he doesn’t lose grasp on the raft.

“- make it!. You’ve gotta make it!” David yells, his voice muffled even though he’s shouting right into Wilbur’s ears. “Don’t let them ruin you, Wilbur!”

The sky lights up from a lighting bolt and for the first time since the storm started Wilbur can see his friend clearly. Somehow David’s gotten a cut on his face, his face pressed down against the planks before he looks up.  His eyes meet Wilbur’s and a small smile crosses his lips.

Wilbur’s hand is given a small pat of encouragement. David’s hands loosen on the wet wood a wave breaks over them. Wilbur scrambles for David’s wrist, yells as his fingers ghost across the fabric of the swimsuit, and then there is only the blood pulsing in his ears. 

When he reemerges to clear skies and steady waves it’s only the sound of a cannon that covers his scream. 

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