ohsam | November 2017 Comment Meme time!

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November 2017 Comment Meme time!

BOOST THE SIGNAL

Welcome back to another November, and our annual November 2nd meme!

This time around, we're going to do a good old-fashioned comment meme. Starting right now (no, really, right now) post any prompt in the comments of this post, as long as it is h/c-related and Sam-centric.

As soon as you see a prompt you like, fill it! Write a fic, make some art, use your imagination. Post a reply to the original prompt comment with your work or, if it's a lengthy fic or art, a link to the work in your journal or elsewhere.

The rules:
-Post one prompt per comment, please. This makes it easier to track, and easier to tell which fills go with which prompts.

-Post as many prompts as you'd like! The more, the merrier.

-Same goes for fills. You're welcome to fill as many prompts as you want to, and multiple people can absolutely fill the same prompt. We love to see different takes on the same concept.

-Like we said, h/c and Sam-centric.

-Feedback is love. If you liked it, leave a comment!

-Use the code below if your fic/art contains potential triggers (non/dub-con, abuse, self-harm, etc.):

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

-No spamming.

-Play nice and have fun!

The mods will update the post with a masterlist of prompts/fills periodically throughout the meme. If you notice a prompt or a fill missing from the masterlist, please poke

quickreaver or

cowboyguy and we'll get that updated as soon as we can.

So get ready, unleash ~~your inner demons~~ your creativity, and start prompting!

Masterlist of Fills

Were It Not That I Have Bad Dreams by intrepidsilt
Also on AO3
Prompt: Cage nightmares, a little bit of h/c from Dean when Sam has nightmares about the Cage. Whatever form that takes, I'm easy!

And The House Burned by

foodthatsblue
Prompt: Based on a quote from Bobby in 5x21

“Back at Niveus? I watched that kid pull one civilian out after another. Must have saved 10 people. Never stopped. Never slowed down. We’re hard on him Dean. Always have been. But in the meantime... he’s been running into burning buildings since he was, what... 12?”

I wanna see Sam, 12, running into a burning building to save people. Why not add in some protective Dean and John freaking out that his youngest has run straight into a burning building?

Untitled by

caranfindel
Prompt: Dean finds and follows a blood trail left in the snow/sand/forest, and finds a pale and bleeding-out Sam at the end of it.

Tree Hugger by

mentholpixie
Prompt: Sam developed psychic abilities at a younger age. Telekinesis, visions, seeing the dead, whatever you choose, whatever age. But how does the Winchester family deal with it? Is the hunting community aware? And what sort of toll do these abilities take on a young Sam?

Find No Scar by

hollyhobbit44
Prompt: Sam actually kills himself to keep from being Lucifer's vessel. And Lucifer keeps him promise to just bring him back.

Untitled by

toratio
Prompt: Sam knows that Jack is a precious cinnamon roll, but sometimes, Jack just makes a certain expression, or the light catches his eyes just right, or something, and Sam can't help but see Lucifer.

The Case of the Disappearing Nephilim by

mollrach13
Prompt: Sam gets hurt protecting Jack from some hunters.

Timberland by

crowroad3
Prompt: Wounded Sam being tracked through a forest by Demon Dean.

Riptide by

lennelle
Prompt: Instead of Mary, Sam is dragged through the rift with Lucifer at the end of s12.

The Space Between by

clown_or_midget
Prompt: Sam and Dean are fighting again about Jack. Dean says some hurtful words to Sam. Jack is watching all this and becomes stressed. His stress opens the door to the alternate world. But not only that, it also opens the door to the cage. Sam and Jack get sucked into the cage while Mary comes back. After some time, Jack was finally able to get them back to the bunker. Cue guilty Dean taking care of Sam, with Mary and Jack helping.

The Hearts of the Fathers by keepcalmsmile
Prompt: Reverse Mystery Spot situation: Dean is the one who has to watch Sam die repeatedly, for whatever reason. Season, cause, etc., all up to author!

Untitled by

threadofgrace42
Prompt: In the cage, Lucifer offered Sam and Adam the same deal Alistair offered Dean: he'll stop torturing them if they torture each other. Sam doesn't take it. Adam does.
Bonus points if you include Sam dealing with his feelings about Adam once he got out: anger, fear, forgiveness, regret, compassion etc

A Soul for a Soul by

hollyhobbit42
Prompt: In the cage, Lucifer offered Sam and Adam the same deal Alistair offered Dean: he'll stop torturing them if they torture each other. Sam doesn't take it. Adam does.
Bonus points if you include Sam dealing with his feelings about Adam once he got out: anger, fear, forgiveness, regret, compassion etc

Untitled by

dragonflybeach
Prompt: Someone else requested Sam losing a leg -- I'd like to see him lose an arm, and see him getting used to trying to do things one-handed. Ending up in tears because he can't figure out how to put his watch on his remaining wrist. Forgetting he's only got one arm and trying to carry a lot of stuff and then realizing he's got no way to open a door. Just all of the frustration that comes with having to re-learn how to do a lot of things, and Dean helping him through it.

Tell Me You Understand by

broken_cinders
Prompt: Sam's a teenager, so Dean and John expect that he's going to go through one of those moody phases where he hates talking to his family, but this is just getting ridiculous. Half the time Sam doesn't even answer them, and both of them are getting frustrated with Sam's attitude. They don't realize, though, that Sam is slowly starting to lose his hearing -- he's not ignoring them, he's just not hearing them.

After Hours by

lennelle
Prompt: Post episode 7.17, The Born Again Identity, Sam withdraws from all the crap he was given at the hospital.

Fine by face70
Prompt: Anything with Sam freaking out about Lucifer being in the bunker in S11 (either just because of cage memories, or because Lucifer actually does something). Sam&Dean gen.

It Had to Be You by face70
Prompt: Tim and Reggie (from 5x03) are still alive. Sam runs into them on a hunt. They’re not happy about their last encounter.

Anywhere But Here by

lennelle
Prompt: Sam has a kind of supernatural synesthesia. Which might be great when he's hunting, because he can recognize monsters by the color or sound or whatever that they give off. It's less good when he's faced with beings like Lucifer and other big bads, whose power creates an overwhelming sensory experience.

It Had to Be You by face70
Prompt: Sam contracts mono early at Stanford and essentially loses the semester, and then his scholarship. With nowhere to go and no way to pay, he attempts suicide. The school contacts Bobby, who tracks down John and Dean. Dean arrives in California to save the day. Gen please. :)

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

This line: 'he’s duct tape and safety pins, and sometimes one slips loose, and he has to patch it up before everything falls apart'. Peeeerfect! Because Sam's SO good at making it seem like he's got a handle on things when he really doesn't.
I hope they explore this in some way on the show, at least let Jack learn what his biological father did to Sam, or show Sam struggling.
Great job, I loved it :)

Ooh, we do! Hopefully she will answer your summons. :)

Everything you write reads like poetry or lyrics or something else too beautiful for my mortal eyes. Wowowow!

Ooh I loved this. I'd also like to see this explored on the show.

Sam with a bad stomach bug. That is all.

Those boys - both of them haunted by the worst of torments...Nicely filled, dear Anon!

Yesssssss. This. Exactly this.

The boys have so much PTSD and it bothers me that the show just glosses over it. Show me Sam freaking out over Jack reminding him of Lucifer. Show me the fresh from Purgatory Dean pulling a weapon on some civilian who made a sudden noise. Show me how it affects the boys when they have to work with a victim who has been through some of the same traumas they have.

Perfect story is perfect with the tie ins to the show ("I'm bored!" Safety pins and duct tape.) and the no more tomato soup was a nice touch.

Thank you for writing this.

oh, whoops. This was dragonflybeach, the original prompter. I'm not sure why I'm anon.

(oh man I can't remember my lj username and password)

I'm loving Sam/Jack relationship so far, so.. maybe a h/c with both of them? Sam's been taking care of Jack so well and this time it's Jack's turn to do it (well he's trying to since he's a clueless, innocent bby but he means well). It can be anything, really.. I'd definitely not mind Dean in it too.

Why not? If someone else is inspired, they can write it too! I'd love to see multiple takes on some of these. And yeah, we need your version.

So you should know this has spiraled out of control at this point. It was only supposed to be 500 words and it's about 3k now.

YESSSSSSS.

I love this prompt!

Ok, so Sam's a witch right? (shh) Anyway, Sam's a witch, has been a witch since teenage and he uses his skills to help people.

Except, he discovers later that these powers too, are associated with the demon blood.

*grumpy Potter Puppet Pals voice* I have an exam soon, my nose is blocked, and i have been awakened from my Benadryl-infused slumber. I'm gonna take this out on Sammeh*.

Sam and Jack (and Cas?) using their powers together on a case. Dean is not happy, but after being a tiiiiny bit of an a-hole, apologises for it.

Post episode 7.17, The Born Again Identity, Sam withdraws from all the crap he was given at the hospital.

Not sure how well this turned out, but I hope it's what you're looking for!

...

In hindsight, it was a stupid idea. You should have known that Lucifer would follow through with his promise, but you thought that it couldn't hurt to try. Turns out you were oh so wrong.

After he'd visited you, all you could think about was how much sense everything made now. You didn't want to believe that you were his vessel - you still don't - but the more you thought about it, the more the pieces clicked into place. All your life you'd been the 'freak', the outsider. Everything good you'd ever had had eventually turned sour in your mouth, and anything good you'd ever tried to do had gone wrong. This was why demons had followed you around your entire life. This was why you poisoned everything you touched. This was why you had pure evil running through your veins, and this was why Dad wanted you to die.

As you thought about Dad, an idea formed in your mind. It wasn't necessarily a good idea, or a smart one, but the time for smart evasion tactics were over. You'd tried that, and he'd found you anyway. So.

If this worked (and it had to work) the world wouldn't end. So maybe Lucifer would still be roaming the earth. But his vessel was falling apart, and without his true vessel he could never hope to take on Michael and win. Besides, Dean and Bobby and Cas would do just fine without you. They'd figure out a way to stop the fight from ever happening in the first place. And a world without you in it to screw it up more than it already was would surely be a better world. It was a win-win situation really.

You knew that Lucifer had said he would bring you back if you killed yourself. In the back of your mind you knew he wasn't lying. Trouble is, you didn't care. Dad had been right all along; removing yourself from the equation was the best course of action. That way it was only you who would get hurt. Dean probably didn't even care anyway, probably thought you were off living your forgotten apple pie dream and wouldn't bother to contact you ever again. Maybe Lucifer would bring you back. Maybe he wouldn't. Either way, you had to try.

You weren't sure how you wanted to do it. A gun would be the quickest, but it would also alert the neighbours, which wasn't exactly ideal. You could use a rope, but you didn't trust the shitty motel fixings to be strong enough to hold you. You looked down at your wrists and traced the veins up your arm. You had a razor in your bag, and plenty of sharpened knives that would do the trick just as easily. You took one out and lightly dragged the tip along the pale skin, leaving behind a white imprint that quickly faded away. You nodded to yourself and grasped the blade tighter, heading towards the small bathroom.

As you lay back in the too small tub you wondered if Lucifer was watching you. Laughing, maybe, at your sheer stupidity and ignorance. You decided you didn't care.

The first cut hurt and you wondered if you would ever get used to being sliced up. Not that it mattered anymore. With shaking hands, you opened you other wrist and dropped the blade over the side of the bath, breathing heavily. The pain in your arms had faded to a dull, stinging throb and you watched in almost fascination as red painted the pale white skin and dripped down into the water in thin, spidery lines. Your head began to feel too heavy to hold up so you rested it against the dirty porcelain, lazily noting the numerous cracks in the ceiling. Maybe it would fall in and finish the job for you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your breaths became fewer, and further between. As you faded away, a sense of catharsis washed over you, and a slow smile briefly spread across your face as you revelled in the knowledge that you had at least done one good thing for this world.

You woke up to see Lucifer's face leering over you, and you thought that maybe you had gone to Hell. Then he moved away and you realised that you were still floating in the scarlet water, your wrists somehow sealed shut.

"Hey Sam," Lucifer sneered, then grabbed you by your shirtfront and hauled you out the water. You tried to get up, but he pushed you back down so you lay dripping wet at his feet.

"You know," he started, almost conversationally. "I honestly didn't take you for an idiot. Dean, sure, but you? Come on, Sam, you know better than this. We're alike, you and I, so surely you know I don't go back on my word."

"I am not like you," you ground out.

Lucifer laughed. "Really? Okay, let's see. Younger brother with unresolved issues against a domineering older brother? Check. Rebelling against Daddy's orders because you knew they were complete bullshit? Check. Trying to do what you think is right, only to get shot down and cast out for it? Check."

"No."

Lucifer smirked and shook his head. "Deny yourself the truth if you want, Sam, but deep down you know you are just like me. Which is why, by the way, you will say yes to me."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Lucifer raised a hand and suddenly you couldn't speak. "Look. Just apologise and we'll sweep this one under the rug, alright? I'll leave, you can go back to your pathetic little lie, and everything will turn out fine in the end."

You glared at him in defiance, so he sighed and clenched his fist. You chocked, unable to breathe, and clawed at the floor. "I've tried being nice, Sam. But I'm tired of it, and I'm tired of your resistance, so I guess I'll just have to teach you a little respect."

He released his hold on you and you gasped for breath, but your relief was short-lived as he began landing blows on your stomach, your chest, your face, anywhere he could reach. You tried fighting back, but the archangel was strong, so you curled into a ball and watched your blood drip onto the tile beneath you.

When he was done, you were a beaten and bruised mess. He surveyed you for a moment before snapping his fingers, healing you instantly. You didn't uncurl yourself straight away, though, too tired to move.

"Consider that your final warning," Lucifer threatened, then disappeared.

After he left, you found yourself more determined than ever to beat him. You try to die twice more before returning to Dean, once by shooting yourself, once by an overdose of meds, because you still figured that it was better you die than stay alive. Neither attempt works, however, and each time Lucifer appeared angrier than before. He rained hell down on you, leaving you good as new.

He told you he had to heal you fully, not wanting a damaged vessel. He didn't seem to know that he had one already.

Get well soon, bb (not Sam tho, he can suffer >:))
.
Sam shudders under Dean's palm. His spine is ridged, curved and pressing so close to the skin of his back that Dean can visualise it piercing through. He's skinny, too skinny, but that doesn't stop him throwing up what little is in his stomach.

After a few minutes, Sam is still and breathing heavy against the toilet seat.

"You done?" Dean asks, and gets no response. "Do you think you can make it to the bed? We can wedge a trash can between your knees if you think you're still gonna hurl."

Sam's only reply is long sigh as he begins to slip sideways. Dean peers at his face to find his eyes closed, fast asleep. He catches him around the waist before he hits the tiled floor. Sam jolts awake, blinking up at Dean blearily.

"Hmm?" He's floppy, hand reaching out for... something, missing, and falling back to his lap. Eleven days with no sleep and the Devil shouting in his ear, Dean can't blame the kid for not firing on all cylinders. He knocks the toilet lid down with his elbow and flushes before hoisting Sam up as carefully as he can by the armpits. The pain of his disturbed ribs seem to wake him up a little.

By some miracle, Sam gets his feet under him long enough to make the few steps to the bed, all the while partially draped over Dean's shoulder. Sam's fast asleep again as soon as he hits the pillows, sprawled out across the thin motel bed-sheet. Dean undresses his own bed and covers Sam in his quilt, then he drops into the armchair by the TV. He switches on some crappy horror movie, dropping the volume low enough that he has to read the actors' lips.

Sometime around dawn, when the birds decide to sing up a racket and the sky is pale purple, Dean jolts awake to Sam's groaning. He peers over the back of his chair to find him hunched over the edge of the bed, arms shaking almost as much as his legs. He gets up slowly and inches unsteadily towards the bathroom. Dean jumps to his feet.

"You ok? What's wrong?"

Sam pauses only to glare at him. "Gotta pee," he mumbles, letting the bathroom door slam shut behind him. Dean's tempted to linger outside the bathroom and twiddle his thumbs until Sam reappears, but decides instead to grab some food. Sam needs something in him or he might pass out. Again.

He stops by the nearest diner - painted a hideous pink with floors sticky enough to make his shoes squeak - and asks for a shitload of coffee, bacon and eggs and pancakes. Sam's back on the bed, legs and arms hanging off the edge like he dropped there and didn't bother to move, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Grubs up," Dean announces. Sam sniffs the air, nose crinkling, then rolls over and away.

Sighing, Dean sets the food on the table and leans over to prod Sam's shoulder. "You need to eat something."

"Maybe later," Sam says, but everything loops together like it's one word.

"No, now. When was the last time you ate?"

The shrug of Sam's shoulders has Dean wanting to kick something. Sure, Dean thinks he's going crazy sometimes, but he's never heard voices that weren't there. The only time he was on a locked ward was when it was his job to be there, not because he was really sick.

He thinks back a few days ago when he woke up to find the next bed empty and Sam's cell not picking up. Then came the call telling him his brother was in a car accident. And then there was the news Sam had been admitted to the locked psychiatric ward. And the drugs Sam had in his system before he even got to the hospital... Jesus, Dean doesn't even want to think about how desperate Sam was.

"You gonna sleep then?"

Sam shrugs again. "Not tired anymore," he says, even though his eyes aren't all the way open.

"I can put on the TV - "

"No," Sam snaps, and that's the most alert he's been since Dean busted him out. He rolls over again so he's facing Dean, but his eyes linger on the floor. His lips press together tightly, no doubt from the pain of his healing ribs. "It's been so long since it's been quiet," he whispers. "I just want it to be quiet, okay?"

Dean's stunned for a moment as he realises Sam's actually crying. He curls in tighter on himself, hands shaking against his chest. There's sweat beading on his forehead, stringing his already-greasy hair into thick strands. Dean reaches out and presses his palm to Sam's head, wincing at the heat he finds there.

"Jesus," he says. "How're you feeling?"

He knows it's a dumb question the second the words leave his mouth, but Sam answers honestly anyway.

"Sh-shitty," he replies, stuttering now.

Dean knows this routine like the back of his hand, even if he hasn't had to run through it in years, not since Sammy was little enough to let Dean fuss over him. He tucks Sam under the quilt, then fetches a cold flannel from the bathroom to press against his head. Sam shakes again, more violently as it runs down his entire body. They've been here before, but with a very different substance running through Sam's veins. At least he won't be flying around the walls this time.

"How much shit did they pump into you?" Dean asks, sitting down on the mattress by Sam's head.

"Don't remember."

"And what did you buy from the dealer?"

Sam pauses then. "Don't remember that either." They're awkwardly quiet for a minute or two before Sam speaks up again. "I'm sorry. I j-just. I needed to sleep."

"Yeah, I know," is all Dean can say. He pats Sam's hand, spine tingling when he catches sight of his ragged nails. He'll have to clip some of them off, he thinks, focusing on where the right thumbnail hangs, the bed of it scabbing over.

The cloth on Sam's forehead has warmed over already and Dean gently peels it away to re-cool. He's halfway up when Sam's hand flaps out, uncoordinated, and hits him in the thigh.

"Stay here," Sam whispers, voice already drifting away. His eyes are closed again as he mutters lazily, "Just for a minute."

Dean sits back down and rubs gently at Sam's back, the way Dad did when either of them got really sick when they were little. "Okay," Dean says, low enough not to disturb the quiet. "Just a minute."

END

Edited 2017-11-05 22:49 (UTC)

I'm on it.

Because as soon as I read that prompt, I knew how Sam lost his arm.

Edited 2017-11-06 14:12 (UTC)

This was awesome!

Oh, my Sammy. This was wonderful. <3

Set during The French Mistake episode. Sam was sick with a cold or something before they crashed through that window. He's starting to feel worse. And all these unfamiliar people keep calling him Jared, and his house is overwhelmingly fancy and he just wants to lay down and close his eyes and be sick in his own dimension, thank you very much. Dean tries his best to help his brother, even though this whole thing is confusing as hell for him, too.

Sam gets caught in a massive downpour while he's out for a long run at Stanford. By the time he gets back he's soaked to the bone and absolutely freezing. He ends up getting sick, but he has Jess there to take care of him, so it's not all bad.

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Page 7 of 16

November 2017 Comment Meme time!

RE: 2/2

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RE: FILLED: Timberland

RE: 2/2

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RE: Filled: "Were It Not That I Have Bad Dreams" (3/3)

RE: 2/2

RE: 2/2

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Find No Scar 1/2

RE: Find No Scar 2/2

FILLED: After Hours 1/?

RE: FILLED: After Hours 2/2

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RE: FILLED: After Hours 2/2

RE: FILLED: After Hours 2/2

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