ohsam | birthday comment fic & art meme

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birthday comment fic & art meme

SPREAD THE WORD

THE RULES

→ Leave a comment here with your fic and/or art prompt. This is a Sam-focused hurt/comfort community, so Sam should be the one in the hurt/comforted role. Your prompts may involve sick!Sam, hurt!Sam, angsty!Sam, basically anything that results in Sam being on the receiving end of hurt/comfort. (No rules against whumping other characters as well, of course, but you have to whump Sam first. ;) )
→ In your prompt, please state your desired characters or pairings and medium (fic or art). All genres/pairings welcome, but no real-person (RPF) prompts.

Example A: “Sam, Dean, gen, set in season 2. Sam has a vision and passes out in the middle of a blizzard. Cue caring!Dean and limp!hypothermic!Sam.”
Example B: “Sam/Dean, trauma. Sam hates Halloween. Dean finds out why."

→ 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 or create some art for it. There's no limit to how many users can reply to a prompt, or how many prompts someone can create for.
→ Please feed the artists! Many members of this community are fantastic artists! Leave an art prompt to tickle their muses!
→ As subject lines are no more, please begin your fills with the word FILLED and a TITLE in BOLD
→ If you notice that your submission is not on the master list after a decent amount of time (say, two days), please poke me in a PM. I might have missed it.
→ Please remember, if your fic/art includes potential triggers (non/dub-con, abuse, self-harm, etc.) use LiveJournal's spoiler tag -- the code can be found in the box below.

→ NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES. Please be courteous and post spoiler warnings for recently aired episodes. Use the following code for spoilers:

→ Anon posting enabled.
→ Play nice - no flaming and no character bashing, period. Any comments that break this rule will be deleted without warning.
→ Feedback is catnip for creators. Leave some love!
→ No spam comments.
→ Contact one of the mods if you have a question.
→ Spread the Sam love - pimp this meme!
→ Have fun!

Thank you to

quickreaver for the beautiful banner!

MASTERLIST

Untitled by

amber1960
[S9 AU-ish; Sam, Dean, Garth, Alex, Jody, Charlie, Dorothy, Kevin]
Sam's forgotten it's his birthday, but everyone else remembers. Sam keeps finding little gifts around the bunker, and Dean, Cas, Kevin, Charlie (anyone else you can think of) are handing out kisses and/or hugs to him like there's no tomorrow.

Vampire by

ladybastet92
[Pre-series; Sam & Dean]
Sam knew about monsters much younger than nine. When he notices his baby teeth are getting loose and one even comes out, he's terrified, thinking he must be one of the monsters his dad hunts.

Shorter Hair, Still Pretty by

chomaisky
[Art; Sam & Dean]
Sam can no longer pass as a Fed with that hair, so he gets it cut. Sam in the Fed suit with sunglasses and short hair.

the sun upon the lake is low by

stripysockette
[Sam & Cas]
Mentally or emotionally distressed Sam (I prefer current era, or at any rate later seasons) finds a pond with a heron. Watching the heron is soothing for him. He goes back every day. Just him and the heron and the weather. Or maybe one day Cas finds him, and watches Sam watch the heron.

don't scratch the wall/mark by

foolscapper
[S9; Sam, Dean, Magnus (9x16)]
Magnus does more than simply cut Sam. It takes Crowley longer to get to the boys, which leaves Magnus to torture Sam while a helpless Dean watches.

Hanta Virus by

spnlove101
[Sam, Dean; WIP]
It shouldn't have been a big deal. Dean and Sam had squatted in boarded up houses plenty of times. This shouldn't have been any different. This time, though, they needed a warded room. Before it could be warded, though, the walls and floors had to be cleaned. Dean left the cleaning and warding to Mr. Neat Freak OCD symbol dictionary and went out to interview witnesses. It isn't until weeks later that the symptoms start, and it isn't until days after that, when Sam can't breathe, that they finally understand the consequences. Hanta virus.

Here's to Many More by

center_galaxy
[AU; Sam, Dean, Jess, Cas, Charlie]
Growing up, Sam didn't always like his birthdays. Sometimes his dad forgets (but Dean makes it up to Sam). Sometimes his birthday falls during a hunt and Sam ends up being hurt and in hospital a la Winchester. So for his 31st birthday, Sam isn't expecting much but Dean has other ideas.

Sam & the Alpha Vamp by

amber1960
[Art; Sam, Alpha Vampire]
The Alpha vampire makes good on his threat to come back for Sam.

Careful With That Axe, Eugene by

crimsonepitaph
[S9; Sam, Dean, Magnus (9x16)]
While Magnus has Sam tied up he continues to cut and taunt Sam. Sam holds it together - he's been tortured before. It's not until Magnus threatens to possess him with one of the demons (or angel) he's been holding captive that he totally falls apart - begging, pleading for him not to do it. Dean witnesses (and now understands) just how emotionally messed up Sam is.

And He Didn't Let Go by

m14mouse
[S9; Sam, Dean]
Under the MoC's influence, Dean turns the first blade on Sam. There is angst.

Lifeline by

center_galaxy
[S9; Sam, Dean, Charlie]
Charlie is back from Oz for a quick visit. She and Sam get trapped somewhere dark and cold. Sam is badly injured or drugged and is really out of it. Charlie has to keep him from panicking while they wait for Dean.

Happy Birthday by AndThenBigBangHappened
[Sam, Dean]
Unknown prompt. How do Sam and Dean celebrate their birthdays?

Over and Over and Over Again by

center_galaxy
[S6; Sam, Dean]
It's a Tuesday, a regular Tuesday after the Apocalypse and everything and Sam wakes up to 'Heat of the Moment' playing on the radio. Dean almost doesn't understand why Sam nearly has a panic attack.

This is Personal by Anonymous
[Pre-series & S5 AU; Sam, Dean, Castiel]
Happy Birthday Sam! Today, you get an angel who wants to go back into the past and kill you! Otherwise known as: Anna travels back into the past to kill Sam when he was alone. Present!Dean and Present!Cas go back in time to save him and Dean is reminded of a few things that he's let anger and guilt forget--why he would do anything to protect his baby brother.

Beginner's Luck by

kcscribbler
[S9; Sam, Dean, Castiel
Give convalescent!Sam a house for his birthday. He can share it with Dean, Cas, Amelia, Jody, Kevin . . . just, not a car, not a family destiny batcave, but a house, one he'll get to keep.

Into the Night by

foolscapper
[Sam, Dean]
Sam finally gets to Disneyland. Who he's with, how he gets there, all up to you.

Someone Who Can Save a Life by

little_creek96
[Sam, Dean]
I wanna see Sam rescued from a vamps nest by his brother. I don't care how long they've had him, but I want extreme blood loss and Dean doing everything he can by himself - leaving Sam in a nest of blankets in the backseat as he steals some blood etc. Sam out of it but still apologizing that he's bleeding all over Dean, that Dean's having to break into a hospital, that Dean had to save him, that he got blood on the Impala's leather, etc.

Someone Who Can Save a Life by

mentholpixie
[Sam, Dean]
I wanna see Sam rescued from a vamps nest by his brother. I don't care how long they've had him, but I want extreme blood loss and Dean doing everything he can by himself - leaving Sam in a nest of blankets in the backseat as he steals some blood etc. Sam out of it but still apologizing that he's bleeding all over Dean, that Dean's having to break into a hospital, that Dean had to save him, that he got blood on the Impala's leather, etc.

Just What He Needed by

sanshal
[S7; Sam/Dean, nonsexual D/s]
Sam doesn't have much of a sexual drive anymore because his time in hell left him broken in ways he's not equipped to fix on his own. He wants someone to "punish" him (nothing too hardcore: spanking, humiliation, bondage, and/or a little pain play, etc are what I'm hoping for-- especially spanking). He tries to pick up men at dives, online, wherever he can, but it doesn't work out and after a close call with someone who didn't respect his boundaries, Dean (or someone else who cares for him) takes matters into his own hands. Cue a proper D/s session, complete with aftercare (cuddling!) and Sam getting what he needs. If it's Dean or Cas, I'd really prefer for him to be sexually attracted to Sam and just not act on it but total gen is fine, too.

Issues of Consent by

annie_46fic
[S9; Past Sam/Dean, Conditionally Asexual!Sam)
Sam and Dean repair their brotherly relationship after Gadreel, but Sam doesn't want to resume their sexual relationship. For the time being, with the accumulation of violations, he doesn't want to invite anyone across his body boundaries, period, but even if that changes, that's no longer a possibility for him with Dean. How do he and Dean work out proximity and forgiveness in the shadow of a no longer tenable past involvement? If you wish, let Sam go on to a tentative sexual relationship with someone else (Cas or not!dead!damn!it!Kevin or Jody would be my favorite picks), and look at how Sam and Dean's relationship weathers that development. Basically, I want to see Sam's sexuality impacted by his experience of body/self/consent violations, combined with post-wincest Sam n Dean.

Beyond Good and Evil by

kcscribbler
[S8; Sam and Dean]
Sam doesn't want to go out for his birthday, he would rather stay in the MoL bunker researching and he comes across a book of new devil's traps. Curious as to why they are different he draws on on the floor but when he tries to cross through it, he finds himself trapped. Trying to not panic as he waits for Dean to get back to the Batcave, Sam realizes that he feels exhausted and the longer he's in the trap the weaker he gets, these traps were designed to weaken demons not just hold them.

Sam's Inner Cat by

amber1960
[Sam and Dean]
Sam gets cursed/hexed/whatever to turn into a kitten every time he gets upset/angry/whatever-emotion-you-choose. Dean thinks having a fluffy little were-kitten for a brother is hilarious, and amuses himself by trying to startle Sam on the odd occasion just to watch it happen - but one day he legitimately upsets Sam enough for him to transform, and then can't find him afterwards.

Updated May 12, 2014.

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*stares at your prompt*

*fidgets*

You need to stop with the awesome prompts. Seriously.

awww.... I like this so much! rainbow farting unicorn balloon, now I want one!

S9: Magnus does more than simply cut Sam. It takes Crowley longer to get to the boys, which leaves Magnus to torture Sam while a helpless Dean watches.

I bet they exist... And thanks!

Well it was all in the prompt, really! :D

Knotting in a cake AU. All the usual characters are made of cake. omega!Sam lies in bed at death's door, and the only cure is alpha!Dean's sweet sweet cream filling.

Aw Sam is the correct answer. *wink*

You have filled me with delight. That is the perfect ID.

LOL, you're pure gold.

AU where they find that Sam isn't infected with demon blood at all, he's actually an android...ala Bladerunner.

sooooo hungry...

Ohhh myyyyy goddddd yeeeessshhhhh... (Dean would make a delicious Deckard too, wow.)

NO NO NEVER STOP EVER

Sigh. Yeah I know, that's why I'm worried about my sammessiah fill.

This is literally all I have wanted since that episode aired.

Honey, that entire COMM has Monica's name written all over it! We're all in your boat. ;)

sa;fjasdfsn i can't resist. gimme a few, and i'll tackle this. i apologize for the quality ahead of time.

Filled: .the sun upon the lake is low

Across the lake the curlews blew in on a late south wind, inscribing an invisible arc against the sky; their calls a high, thin outreach. The chill bit through jacket and shirt, raised the hairs on Sam's neck as he thrust his hands deeper into his pockets. At the edge of the lake grew thick brushed reeds, heavy as they bent over the silent waters, roots thrust so deep into the earth that it seemed as though they would endure forever. The water spilled into the distance, blended with the blue and misty grey of the far off horizon, a shadowed merging between sky and water. The breeze shivered the water and shattered the dim reflection, endless ripples, fainter and fainter until they faded into stillness as Sam watched them spread and dissipate until they were as good as gone and only the faintest tremor remained to mark their passing.

When he turned back and gazed at where he'd walked, he saw the boggy ground had swallowed up his footsteps as though he'd never been, a silent passage, no mark left in memory of his path, the grass tough and resilient, not bent by him. Somewhere behind him there sounded the low ss-ssh of an insect crying its lonely, empty call, joined after a little as his ears sharpened and grew accustomed to the stillness by three or four fellows. He inscribed his own, vast, empty circle around the lake now, wading through the saturated ground, watching the water fill up the space left behind, a slow flow, erasing him again. Out of the dimness of the slowly encroaching sunset, he heard the inimitable croak of the heron and shivered, the cold suddenly striking.

He had reached the portion of the lake he was the most familiar with, the flat, heavy rock in the ground set though as though by some ancient hand amongst the reeds, worn smooth by the wind and rain, grey and battered, and still warm to the touch as though it had swallowed the sunlight and now yielded it slowly. The lichen stretched across one side, a deft embrace that clung with sombre discreetness to its support. Sam let himself down slowly, shrugged his jacket closer and looked out across the calmness of the water to the grassy ledge just a little out in the lake where a heron gazed back. It was as still as any bird could be, not a blink of an eye, not the twitch of a feather, the round orange eye glaring at him in frozen stillness, the firm sweep of its wings against its body, folded tight as though in reprimand, the neck bent back in a graceful arch. Only the ragged plumage moved as the breeze swept in again, a cool grey touch of a thing that stirred Sam's hair and rustled the reeds. When it faded it left no trace of movement, a fickle transience.

Sam could not so much hear the blood in his veins and the heart in his chest as feel them, an unwilling intractable concession on his part to life, an impermanent fragile necessity that overwhelmed him. He focused instead on the heron, on the essential imperfect broken curve of its legs, bent and bowed and yet supporting its weight with ease. The heron was not waiting, was not anticipating nor eager for the breaking of its peace. It merely endured, a moment encapsulated. He felt his heart calm, the exertion of his walk fading as he looked at the bird and felt for a moment the world slow.

The ragged demon thump in his veins that still existed, uncleansed, now tainted more by the introduction of unwanted grace, ate at his peace, leaving him shaken and unsure and doubting, an empty vessel, filled only by the stillness of the air and the undisturbed peace around him. The heron turned its head, a neat flick, an angle seemingly impossible in the moment, a swift preciseness as though it had spotted something it wanted, and on seeing no fruition to its desires, was still again. The tell-tale water surface remained undisturbed, perhaps some restless current had imitated for a moment the movement of a fish beneath the surface.

Sam stretched his fingers against the rock, broke unceasing stillness to feel the solid dying warmth beneath his hands as he gazed at the bird, aloof and still, a natural congruent part to its surroundings and yet alone, master of itself and nothing else. The clamour in his head quieted for long moments, the hard lump of distress in his throat that didn't seem to go no matter how long he waited softened a little. Here, he could imagine an end, or even that there was something else after the end. That whether he broke, whatever happened - even the hollowing and emptying of himself for the pleasure and whim of something else - that something would go on outside of him, untouched by evil, not subject to the whims of others, not a plaything in others games. He was allowed entrance for these quiet minutes into a precious peace.

The eventual movement was swift, the heron darted its blue-dark head into the lake in pursuit of its prey, a lethal strike that yielded no fruit. Disappointed, it raised its head back again, bared its breast to the wind and brooded. There was a hauteur now to it that Sam traced with watchful gaze, a hope thwarted in the moment but still extant, a return to the wait, to the long stillness as it perched still on elegant dark legs. It did not notice or at least did not mind him, a cool watchful presence entirely remote from his concerns, which under the bright orange-yellow of its fierce absent gaze seemed to grow smaller for the moment.

The fragile equilibrium maintained between them, held, a dependable silence. The beginning tinge of night crept closer, rested cold fingers on his neck, tickled down his spine, as the sun faded, and threw its last beaming halo across the thin mist of the water, a red tinge to the water now, dusk falling, darkening the sky. There was an answering thrum in his veins, the quickening pulsing of the blood, the inevitable response to darkness encroaching, yet he remained, watching, immobile, unwilling to surrender the surety of the instant, even as the rock lost the last vestiges of warmth and his bones,memory of false-healing quickening through them, ached.

He stood and waited for the heron to startle, to move now in sudden swiftness, flee from his presence and the looming dark to the safeness of a tree-bound nest, but with stone serenity it remained, a fading figure in the gloaming, as he turned to leave. He saw with no surprise, Castiel emerge, as though he had been merely waiting for Sam’s acknowledgement. He was too tired, too heart-sick to wonder why, merely brushed past, aware of the heavy intentness of Cas’s gaze. He wondered how he had not felt it, if this was what the heron had felt like, observed and stripped beneath his gaze.

As they left, Castiel a half step behind, mimicking his pace as though following in his footsteps would yield a reason, a rhythm to his actions, Sam cast back one look, and then, Orpheus in the underworld, fixed his gaze ahead, and tried not to anticipate now, the small peace of tomorrow.

The lake remained, and with a harsh ripping hideous sound torn from its throat the heron flew.

I really hope you get an art-fill for this, beautiful prompt!

What a weird prompt. But I would absolutely eat that :D

Aye, true nuff.

Sam and Dean, future fic, gen. Fic or art

They're both a little older; Dean's gone grey and Sam wears reading glasses. But it's Sam's back that worries Dean, and the pain seems to be getting worse the older he gets.

YESSS seconded (thirded?)

FILLED: Vampire

Monsters were real. They were as real as birds, guns, and people. He didn’t remember being told about them by Daddy or Dean, but he knew that they were the reason they move every few months, why there are marks on every door and salt under every window, why Dad didn’t smile or look him in the eye. He knew that they were the reason he could never be safe.

When he was a stupid baby, he thought everyone knew about monsters. When the teachers read his class a book about vampires, Sam raised his hand and said that they look nothing like those cartoons, that their fangs were a second set of teeth, and that you have to kill every single one of them. One afterschool parent-teacher meeting and a night of Dad drinking that smelly stuff and yelling at him later, Sam learned that it was their job to make sure no one else knew about the monsters.

Dean crawled into bed with him and held him as the tears fell, and told him that the Winchesters were heroes. “We’re Batman and Robin, Sammy,” Dean whispered through Sam’s sniffles. “But we can’t let the world know about Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, yeah? So people don’t screw with us and we can keep beating the bad guys.” Sam just nodded. But what he really learned that day was how to shut down and keep his mouth shut.

So he did for a long time. The kept moving, the brothers grew taller, and Dean taught Sam how to hold a knife, shoot a pistol, identify a sigil. Sam knew he sucked with weapons, despite Dean’s assurances that he would get better and that Dean sucked as much as Sam did at his age, but he did like learning about why they made the sigils and markings at every place they went. Dean didn’t have much to offer other than “they keep us safe”. Sam tried reading Dad’s journal while he was sleeping to find out. He couldn’t read that well yet at that age, but he kept trying to teach himself, anyway.

He didn’t know enough. Dad never told him what he wanted to know, just told him to keep quiet and follow orders, and that he would handle the rest. Dad didn’t understand how that only made his heart beat faster, made him feel even more like something was trying to crawl under his skin. Without facts, specifics, Sam was floating, vulnerable. Anything could get him, and the possibilities ran through his mind daily. Dean told him that he’d protect him, but Sam wasn’t dumb. Monsters were stronger than humans, maybe stronger than Dad or Dean. Sam could blink one time, and they could be dead.

What Sam didn’t tell anyone, not even Dean, was that getting killed by a monster wasn’t what he was afraid of. He knew that monsters could turn humans into other monsters, with just a bite or even touching blood. And Sam felt it sometimes – something running under his skin, something hot and gross and wrong. Other humans didn’t feel it, he knew they didn’t, even though he was too terrified to ask anyone else. He wanted to tell Dean, he really did, but whenever he thought about it he imagined one of those shiny guns pointed at him. Or worse, Dad and Dean on the floor, bloody and limp like the corpses he’s seen on hunts, all because of Sam.

Sam and Dean were home alone afterschool. Dean was cleaning weapons and Sam was doing homework. Sam had been fiddling with his sore tooth all day, thinking he imagined it when he felt it move sometimes. He pressed his tongue against it absentmindedly, when suddenly, the whole tooth tilted straight forward. He winced at the pain at first, but then gasped a bit when he felt the unnatural angle it was set at. Without a word to his brother, he ran to the bathroom and shut the door. He opened his mouth and looked the mirror, trying to keep quiet when he saw the blood dripping at the gums. With shaking hands, he tried to push the tooth back into place – and it fell out.

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birthday comment fic & art meme

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