ohsam | comment fic meme

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comment fic meme

In celebration of Sam's birthday, we're hosting another comment fic meme!

THE RULES

→ Leave a comment here with your prompt. Because it's Sam's birthday, I'm going to say that any Sam-centric prompts are okay, even if there's not much hurt/comfort in them.
→ In your prompt, please state your desired characters or pairings. All genres/pairings welcome, but no real-person prompts.

Example A: “Sam, Dean, gen, set in season 2. Sam has a vision and passes out. Cue caring!Dean and limp!Sam.”
Example B: “Sam/Dean, trauma. Sam is injured on a hunt, Dean freaks out when he thinks Sam might be dead.”

→ Post as many prompts as you like - but one prompt per comment. If you've got a couple, comment with each separately.
→ Prompts can be as short or detailed as you like. Remember though - more detail means less wriggle room for the writer, which might lower the chances of someone picking up your prompt.
→ Go through the prompts! If you find one you like, write a fic for it. There's no limit to how many users can reply to a prompt, or how many prompts someone can write for.
→ When replying to a prompt with your comment-fic, put ‘filled’ in your subject line and then anything else you want, like a title if you have one/part numbers. It’s not a big deal if you forget this step, but it will make it easier for people to find your fic.
→ Anon posting enabled.
→ NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES.
→ Play nice - no flaming and no character bashing, period. Any comments that break this rule will be deleted without warning.
→ Feedback is catnip for writers. Leave some author-love!
→ No spam comments.
→ Contact one of the mods if you have a question.
→ Spread the Sam love - pimp this meme! Just copy and paste the code below:

→ Have fun!

THE MASTER LIST

tahirire wrote The boys are in a better place emotionally. Dean thinks past his hurt at what he saw in Sam's heaven, and gets Sam a golden retriever puppy for his birthday.

dime_for_12 wrote 5x03 AU. Sam already said yes. He just doesn't know or remember it. Vessel!Sam, Possessed!Sam, Eeery!Lucifer. Please include lots of Dean.

anonymous wrote After a Narrowly-Averted-Apocalypse, an old friend from Stanford runs into Sam Winchester at a gas station. He's surprised/disturbed by what he sees.

ratherastory wrote Sam discovers an intricate symbol that will allow him to wrench back control from Lucifer. Now he just needs someone to carve it into his back.

maskedfangirl wrote Happy Birthday, Sammy! Pity that it's alternate universe 5x04 and that you're having your birthday trapped inside of your own skin while the Devil ruins the world. Still, it was nice of the guy to sing to you on your birthday and he even got you a gift - he let you wander around in your body for an entire night out in the bleak remains of civilization. Of couse, everyone thinks you're the Devil and you're reviled and feared wherever you go. Worse, you're probably pretty far gone to find yourself weeping at the sound of birds on the wind or the scent of burning tires because it's just been so damned LONG since you've felt anything at all. Hey, I wonder what your chances are of getting Dean on the short wave are?

tifaching wrote The book that changed Sam's life. NOT The Catcher in the Rye or The Outsiders, please.

authoressnebula wrote I kind of have a thing for tired!Sam. And we know from 5x19 he's not been getting a lot of sleep. So, something where Sam is fighting to stay awake, maybe researching or in the car, and Dean's trying to get him to go to sleep?

mute90 wrote Angel/AU Spn crossover in which lawyer!Sam works at Wolfram and Hart. Sam's not evil. Just morally ambiguous in a goofy, adorable way. And now Angel has taken over Wolfram and Hart, and Lorne has instituted staff birthday parties, and it's Sam's birthday. All his work friends are there, and his non-work friends and family are invited, and it's a catastrophe. Dean is trying cheesy pickup lines on Illyria, and Bobby is making awkward smalltalk with Spike, and Castiel and Wesley are having, like, brooding, stubbly, eyesex in the corner, and Sam's pretty sure that still!alive!Jess is developing a crush on his darkly handsome, undead boss. It's the worst birthday ever, and there's something supernaturally not right about the cake...

authoressnebula wrote AU version of 5x10 Abandon All Hope: Sam is the one attacked by a hellhound, not Jo.

dime_for_12 wrote Sam's crazy plan works. He says yes to Lucifer to trap him, and manages to get him into the cage. Somehow, then or later, he is rescued, but he is physically and emotionally messed up from being possessed and locked up with Lucifer. Dean is there for him.

dime_for_12 wrote After a Narrowly-Averted-Apocalypse, an old friend from Stanford runs into Sam Winchester at a gas station. He's surprised/disturbed by what he sees.

sistabro wrote Set in or after Sam Interrupted. Sam and Dean didn't get away and the doctor fills out his threat of sending Sam to a facility that deals with violent patients. Lucifer starts visiting Sam in his dreams.

kalliel wrote The book that changed Sam's life. NOT The Catcher in the Rye or The Outsiders, please. [Part 2] [Part 3]

klutzy_girl wrote A witch the boys meet on a case decides to cast a spell on Sam as a gift for his birthday (she notices the guys have some communication hang ups)--he will not be able to inhibit what he says for a full day. Basically everything he thinks and feels comes spewing out of his mouth without his control. Including many thoughts of self-loathing and doubting Dean could ever love him the same after all that's happened, any other things you want, etc. Sam is mortified and feels exposed and stupid.

anonymous wrote A witch the boys meet on a case decides to cast a spell on Sam as a gift for his birthday (she notices the guys have some communication hang ups)--he will not be able to inhibit what he says for a full day. Basically everything he thinks and feels comes spewing out of his mouth without his control. Including many thoughts of self-loathing and doubting Dean could ever love him the same after all that's happened, any other things you want, etc. Sam is mortified and feels exposed and stupid.

lassiterfics wrote Sam starts smoking at Stanford, a slow but inexorable climb towards addiction. He tries halfheartedly to hide it from Dean after Jess dies, but Dean finds out pretty quickly and is shocked and appalled.

caerial wrote The Winchesters spend a lot of time in Humboldt Park (a predominantly Puerto Rican neighborhood in Illinois) tracking down old contacts. John leaves Sam and Dean in the care of a friend and Sam, precocious child that he is, starts learning to speak around then. But Dean doesn't talk anymore, and John's never around, so Sam's first acquired language actually ends up being Spanish. John's beginning to realize it wasn't just his and Mary's life went up in flames. So what now?

m14mouse wrote A Supernatural/Buffy crossover. Stanford-era Sam and recently-chipped Spike save the world. The problem is Sam has no one to tell and Spike has no one who will believe him. So, Spike comes back to Stanford a year later with a whole bunch of bear to celebrate the day they saved the world. Sam loves the company.

27_jaredjensen wrote Sam, Dean - season five after "The End". Sam is taking the Impala out to get food when he wrecks the car. He thinks this will be just one more thing that Dean will be mad at him about. Then he realizes he's hurt and ends up in the hospital. Dean takes care of him.

27_jaredjensen wrote Stanford era--Sam is sick during his birthday (could be the first one at Stanford or not) but a birthday present arrives that cheers him up.

roque_clasique wrote Stanford era--When Dean goes to check on Sam, he's shocked to be pointed in the direction of a busy club. Turns out Sam's the lead singer of a super-emo rock band (and, yes, he IS wearing eyes liner. AND leather pants). Sam is mortified to see Dean looking like that (he finds being bombarded by female groupies while he croons melodramatically embarrassing and only joined the band to get some cash for school).

greeneyes_fan wrote Gen. Like we all know, Sam gets his arms sliced up pretty bad by the ghouls in 4.19. BUT for some reason, the stitches Dean put in keep dissolving and the boys don't know why. Dean is afraid that Sam is pulling the stitches out himself and Sam won't contradict him because he thinks that maybe the demon blood running through him is eating the stitches away. Either way, Sam's not healing, just getting worst. All ends shmoopily after h/c hi-jinks ensue.

phx69 wrote Ever since his rape on his birthday, he hasn't celebrated. Sam finally gives into Dean's questioning in why.

dime_for_12 wrote Sam suffers an injury that won't be fatal but that will be intensely painful for some time and/or take a long time to heal enough to get back in the hunt if it'll heal at all. Frustration, h/c, and finally he gives up and asks Dean to kill him, because he knows perfectly well he'll bounce back from that much faster.

sistabro wrote Sam, Chuck, booze, and useless college degrees.

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Don't hate me for the double-filling, I couldn't resist this one, though mine lacks hugs. But it's OK, because klutzy_girl gave us hugs.

Long and angsty, but gets a little happier towards the end.

FILIBUSTER

He should have fucking killed her. Not just because she was into some serious Satanist shit – that was why they’d tracked her down, looking for ways to summon and hold the devil, hold him long enough to trap him, preferably ways that did not involve using his dumbass suicidal brother as Lucifer-bait – but for what she’d done to Sam. To them. Her fucking birthday gift. After Ellicot and the siren, it wasn’t like they needed any MORE proof that evil supernatural influences are a pretty lousy mode of psychotherapy.

Sam is hunched in the backseat – “Don’t look at me,” he’d been screaming, “I can’t bear you looking at me,” and he’d refused to sit shotgun – and Dean is trying to track the constant slur of his speech without letting himself process it. “Always had to be me, always had to be me, and you know what’s ironic, Dean? I used to be so afraid that it would just take me over, that I’d wake up one day and I wouldn’t even be me anymore and I’d never even know it had happened, and then when the time came it wasn’t even like that, I went in with my eyes open, I chose every step of the way, and it wasn’t anything else making me evil, it was me, God, no wonder you hate me, you were always so sure that I’d resist whatever was going to change me, you never thought I’d just turn myself, God, forty years in hell for me, you should get a goddamned refund, all that destiny and why did they even bother when I was just going to ruin everything on my own, talk about fucking free will . . . ”

The witch had been pissed, all right, when they’d confiscated her books and knocked down her altar and blackmailed her into telling them what she knew, which, damn it, didn’t turn out to include what they needed to know. And maybe they’d been a bit short with each other, another damned dead end, and when Sam had been about to pipe up with one more stupid, self-sacrificing suggestion – Dean could tell, he could tell just what Sam was going to say, that mulish look on his face -- Dean had shut him down pretty quick. And Sam had closed his mouth and turned away, his lips a flat, angry line and a flush in his cheeks, and the witch had smiled at him, like he was something to eat. “Sweeties, you just need to talk it out, don’t you” she’d said, all sugar and poison, and then “But only one of you is the birthday boy, so only one of you gets the gift.” Then she’d refused to say any more, and they weren’t going to torture her or kill her, she was still human, sorry excuse for humanity though she might be, so in the end they’d left her tied to her chair and driven away. And then it was 12:00 AM, May 2nd, and Sam had started to talk.

At first they’d tried a gag, but Sam just went on mumbling around it, choking when he couldn’t get the words out, until the corners of his mouth were raw and bloody and Dean was terrified his brother was going to suffocate on his own words. Then they’d stopped at a drugstore, and Dean had rushed in and bought the first pair of earplugs he could find -- because he couldn’t listen to this, Christ, he wasn’t meant to hear it, not like this, maybe the bloody sadistic witch was right and Sam needed to talk and he needed to listen, but this, this was like saying that because someone really needed to get laid they should get raped – but Sam’s hand had shot out and fastened painfully on his wrist when he moved to put the earplugs in, and his eyes had been full of panic, and for a moment it looked like he was actually seeing Dean, not shut in his hellish monologue: “Dean. What if I say Yes?”

“Sam, what?” he’d said, and Sam had been leaning earnestly forward over the seat and the words were spilling out again, tripping over each other, but he was still talking to the Dean in front of him, not that angry Dean in his head. “I know I’ve thought about it, God knows we both have, and if just thinking about it was consent we’d both have been meatsuits months ago, or, wait, maybe it is consent and we’re actually fucking archangels, we just haven’t noticed, that would be pretty funny, wouldn’t it, but if just thinking it isn’t enough, what if I say it, what if it just crosses my mind and I blurt it out with everything else and boom, just like that, it’s over, you have to listen to me, Dean, you have to listen to everything I say, you have to be there and if I say yes you have to say yes too, you were right, there in the panic room, no one else can stop me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it has to be you.” And then he’d hunched back in the seat with his head in his hands, just mumbling “sorry, sorry, sorry” over and over, his fingers so tight in his hair that Dean could see a tiny beading of blood at the roots.

So now Dean is on some kind of confessional suicide watch, not to prevent anything, because what the hell could he do to prevent it if it happened, but to witness and then throw himself away after Sam and become something that can kill his brother before Lucifer can settle comfortably into his custom-designed, deluxe vessel and destroy the world. Sam’s voice is getting hoarse, he’s been talking non-stop for six hours now, he can sip water, and Dean keeps passing him the bottle, and then there’s maybe fifteen seconds of silence and the sound of swallowing, and the words spurt out again, like blood from an artery, except blood runs out eventually and the words never do. Dean’s eyes are aching and gritty, his head pounding, he can’t keep driving and listening, they have to stop, and he pulls in at the next motel, a dismal place with a buzzing florescent sign missing half its letters and a nervous clerk who clearly only gives them a room because refusing a leather-coated lunatic with red-rimmed eyes accompanied by a mumbling, catatonic giant ranks high on the list of Stupid Things: Don’t Do Them in some skanky motel worker’s handbook.

Dean manages to get Sam into the room, and Sam starts pacing pack and forth in the narrow strip of floor between the beds and the furniture bolted to the walls, talking, like he’d become some fancy ass lawyer after all and he’s walking up and down orating in front of a rapt courtroom. Except he doesn’t look like a fancy ass lawyer. He looks broken, and if there’s a courtroom in Sam’s head he’s maybe the prosecutor but he’s also the prisoner in the dock. As far as Dean can tell he’s talking to Jessica now, “Typical Freudian move, girlfriend who looked like my dead mother, beautiful and blonde and, oh yes, manipulated by demons and burned and murdered, never had my crusts cut off, but you baked me cookies, didn’t you, Jess, I even ate one of them, before you bled on it, guess the rest of them got burned . . .” And suddenly Dean can’t stand it any more, and he steps in front of Sam and grabs his arms and shakes him a bit and he’s shouting, “What am I supposed to do with this shit, Sam, what am I supposed to do for you, I’m floundering here.” And for a second Sam actually stops talking. He looks kind of poleaxed, and he sits down on the end of one of the beds, and when his voice picks up again a moment later he’s talking about flounders.

He tells Dean about how flounders start out with eyes both sides of their head, like normal fish, and then one eye actually migrates to the other side, so they can lie flat on the mud with both eyes on the top of their body and look around at whatever murky scenery the ocean floor has to offer. Dean’s so fucking relieved he nearly says “Freaky,” but if Sam is playing word association that’s not a word he wants to throw in there, though, really, the fact that Sam can dredge up flatfish trivia from the depths of his subconscious is possibly more disturbing than whatever dark emotional stuff he’s deflecting.

And after that it’s better. Dean keeps feeding Sam prompts, and sometimes they still go to some pretty dark places, but it’s amazing how much Monty Python Sam can recite from memory once he gets started, and Dean actually enjoys the detailed literary analysis of all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, complete with caustic notes on the actual market value of Buffy’s supposedly stylish yet affordable boots, and trust Sam to take a thrilling tale of saving people, hunting things and turn it into a meditation on the economics of women’s footwear. And it occurs to Dean, listening to his brother’s voice, and wincing a little at the painful rasp in it, that it really has been a long time since they talked, not just since Sam’s opened up about any of the monumental shit storm he’s been caught in since before he was even born, but since he stopped volunteering fun fish facts or getting Dean into technical debates on the feasibility of slaying the undead while wearing three inch heels.

The day is getting on, and neither of them has slept or eaten, and Sam’s voice is wearing out more and more till it’s nothing but a wrecked whisper, and he can’t seem to hold onto the threads Dean is feeding him any more, but he can’t sleep, and he can’t stop talking. His hands are shaking now when he tries to drink and the water spills down his shirt, and he’s on about Lucifer again, “You said it yourself Dean, I’ll say yes, it’s going to happen, I don’t know how, it’s me, I always fuck up, I’ll say yes.” And when Dean says, “No, Sam, you’ll say no, you’ve been saying no, I trust you, you’ll say no,” Sam just falls back onto the bed and lies there like he’s sleeping, or dead, except that his lips are still moving constantly, though there’s hardly a sound any more, but when Dean leans down to listen he can just hear the endless, ragged litany of “No, no, no, no, no,” and that’s it, that’s the only word Sam has left, for hours, till finally the clock flips over and its 12:00 AM, May 3.

The next day Sam doesn’t talk. He’s sitting shotgun again, but he’s staring out the window and he won’t even look at Dean, won’t meet his eyes or do more than shape “Thanks,” with his lips when Dean brings him tea with honey, and soup and cough drops and a milkshake in the middle of the afternoon, because Sam can’t eat anything solid and he’s got this dry, wheezing cough that probably hurts him even more than it hurts to hear. His shoulders are hunched and Dean can hear shame and misery and a constant undercurrent of apology, as clearly as if Sam’s endless monologue were still in his ears. They stop pretty early, and Dean goes out to get food, more soup, and then he sees a Baskin Robbins.

They don’t have any flounder-shaped ice cream cakes, and Dean thinks maybe now is not the time for the pink Disney princess, but he gets one shaped like a whale, since Sam’s into marine life, and brings it back to the motel room. Sam actually looks up when Dean sets it down on the table, and he rasps “Dude, ice cream cake for dinner?” “Yeah, well, it’s the Apocalypse, eat dessert first,” says Dean, and then, “your throat hurts and you kind of missed your birthday yesterday.” Sam’s staring at him, and Dean adds “I tried to get them to write ‘You’re not evil and I don’t hate you,’ on the cake, but they looked at me funny,” and yeah, if he had, they probably would have. Sam’s still staring at him, and maybe at some point they need to talk, really talk, but Sam’s in no shape for it now, and they are going to eat ice cream cake and then have soup for dessert and then maybe there will be something with vampires on television and they can have an aimless conversation about how much cooler their lives would be if they really could dust things into special effects with a pointed stick.

Awwww that was fabulous and so true to the boys. I felt so bad for Sam and Dean's simple line about "you're not evil and I don't hate you" is too perfect for words. :)

This was just soooo good. I loved how we saw everything through Dean's eyes--and how painful it was for him to hear Sam say those things. The little touches, like Sam spouting off on flounder facts and Dean realizing they didn't talk about non-hunting stuff anymore--made it even better.

And I loved Dean getting the whale cake--and his would've-been inscription was awesome! Hilarious and touching at the same time. And such a Dean way to express his emotions without turning girly about it.

This made me laugh and cry at the same time, like a lunatic. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW!.

Seriously, this was awesome, I loved, Sam's angsty self-loathing (poor emo moose!), the whale-shaped ice-cream cake, the Buffy debate, all of it. Amazing!

This is wonderful - I especially enjoyed Dean's POV.

asdkflajsdfkladsjf I love this SO MUCH. So very, very much. It's gorgeously done, just perfect. The confessional parts are gut-wrenching, but I love the word-association and flounders. I can't tell you how much this made me laugh:

“I tried to get them to write ‘You’re not evil and I don’t hate you,’ on the cake, but they looked at me funny,”

Back to compliment more - what I meant to say, what really makes this work is the balance of traumatic confessional and therapy, the potential for improved relations, realizing what they've been missing. ♥

Edited 2010-05-04 23:23 (UTC)

This is wonderful, with the cake and the message that wasn't and the flounders and the ANGST.

Ow, my heart. And awwww. I love this so much.

Thanks so much to all of you who have read and commented. People responded to something I wrote! They felt emotions! This makes me ridiculously squeeful and happy. This comment-meme thing is so addictively not solitary.

This was my second ever fanfic, and now I am working on a third. I need to stop. I have papers to write. Curse you, Sam Winchester. Stop fretting about the apocalypse and take some responsibility for RUINING MY CAREER.

This is so amazing. Since it's been a few years can you leave your fic list? Because I'd love to read more by you.

Edited 2012-11-08 03:32 (UTC)

Thank you! And goodness, that was a long time ago -- I didn't have an LJ account yet.

My masterpost is here:

http://de-nugis.livejournal.com/37442.html

Edited 2012-11-09 01:18 (UTC)

Oh, ha, I thought it was one of those anon comment fic memes....I don't know why.

Also, *headdesk* I've actually read a lot of your masterlist (I think during my not-leaving comments phase.) You have a solid writing voice (-> I mean this as a compliment but I'm not sure if other people would find it complimentary so just to clarify you have a wonderful writing voice.)

Thanks for linking to these 2 comment fics today, as I'd never have found them otherwise! You know one of the first fanfics I read was this one by big_pink where Dean was cursed with a talking curse - that went about as well as this one does... http://big-pink.livejournal.com/28517.html?format=light

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comment fic meme

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