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ohsam2018-11-02 08:29 am
ohsam-mod.livejournal.com) wrote in ohsam2018-11-02 08:29 am
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OhSam November meme 2018!
It’s that time again … our annual November 2nd OhSam meme!
BOOST THE SIGNAL
Step 1: Leave a comment with a prompt. As always, since we are a Sam-focused hurt/comfort community, Sam should be the primary recipient of any of the hurt and/or comfort. Prompts can involve Sam being sick, hurt, angst-filled, grief-bearded, or any other scenario that will put him into a hurt/comfort-y type of position. (Other characters can be hurt if you wish, but Sam is a requirement.)
Step 2: Make all the things! Prompts can be filled as soon as you have a fic or art to fill them!
The rules:
-Post one prompt per comment, please. This makes it easier to track, and easier to tell which fills go with which prompts. If you have several prompts, post them in separate comments.
-Prompts can be as short or as detailed as you like, but shorter prompts give people more wiggle room to create.
-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.
-No real-person fic (RPF), please.
-Anon posting will be enabled. If you came here from tumblr and don’t have an LJ, just leave an anon comment linking back to your tumblr or AO3 post for any fic/art fills to prompts!
-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:
-Post fic fills as replies to the initial comment with the subject line “FILLED: [Title] (1/1)” for the number of parts your fic will have (If it doesn’t fit in a single comment, then change to (1/2), (2/2) or however many parts you’ll have. If the fic runs away from you and becomes too long to easily fit in comments, you can also link directly its original source post on LJ, AO3, etc.)
-Post art fills with a link to the original source, preferably with a thumbnail image. Please note whether the art is SFW or NSFW.
-Feedback is love. If you liked it, leave a comment!
-Contact a mod if you have a question.
-Pimp this meme! Spread the word to your friends! As with prompts and fills, the more, the merrier!
-No spamming. No flaming. No character bashing.
-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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
quickreaver or cowboyguy and we'll get that updated as soon as we can.
BOOST THE SIGNAL
Step 1: Leave a comment with a prompt. As always, since we are a Sam-focused hurt/comfort community, Sam should be the primary recipient of any of the hurt and/or comfort. Prompts can involve Sam being sick, hurt, angst-filled, grief-bearded, or any other scenario that will put him into a hurt/comfort-y type of position. (Other characters can be hurt if you wish, but Sam is a requirement.)
Step 2: Make all the things! Prompts can be filled as soon as you have a fic or art to fill them!
The rules:
-Post one prompt per comment, please. This makes it easier to track, and easier to tell which fills go with which prompts. If you have several prompts, post them in separate comments.
-Prompts can be as short or as detailed as you like, but shorter prompts give people more wiggle room to create.
-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.
-No real-person fic (RPF), please.
-Anon posting will be enabled. If you came here from tumblr and don’t have an LJ, just leave an anon comment linking back to your tumblr or AO3 post for any fic/art fills to prompts!
-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:
-Post fic fills as replies to the initial comment with the subject line “FILLED: [Title] (1/1)” for the number of parts your fic will have (If it doesn’t fit in a single comment, then change to (1/2), (2/2) or however many parts you’ll have. If the fic runs away from you and becomes too long to easily fit in comments, you can also link directly its original source post on LJ, AO3, etc.)
-Post art fills with a link to the original source, preferably with a thumbnail image. Please note whether the art is SFW or NSFW.
-Feedback is love. If you liked it, leave a comment!
-Contact a mod if you have a question.
-Pimp this meme! Spread the word to your friends! As with prompts and fills, the more, the merrier!
-No spamming. No flaming. No character bashing.
-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.
no subject
Sam staggers into the motel room, a nasty-looking spike lodged in his back. Because the thing that they've been hunting -- it was hunting them, too.
no subject
FILLED Jefferson Starship (1/4)
After lying there for a good hour and a half, Sam sighed and rolled himself out of bed. He shuffled to the bathroom, rubbing his tired eyes and nearly tripping over his own feet. When the light flickered on in the small, outdated bathroom, Sam flinched and starred at his reflection.
It was no wonder why Dean had been studying him so closely lately. Sam looked as though he hadn’t slept in months and sadly, that wasn’t far from the truth. Before leaving the room, he splashed some water on his face, which did very little to cleanse his burning eyes or treat the dark circles underneath.
“You good?” Dean asked as Sam shuffled back to his bed. The older brother’s eyes followed him the entire way.
“Yeah, fine.” Sam lied, not expecting Dean to buy it, but hoping he would let it go.
“Sure you are,” Dean mumbled as he reached out for his phone on the night stand. He winced when the bright screen lit up, showing the time. “Jesus, Sam, its three-o’clock in the fucking morning.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said with an apologetic tone. “I just couldn’t sleep.”
Dean snorted, “you don’t say. Tell me more.”
The sarcasm was obvious, but Sam hoped that Dean was just masking his concern. That’s how it used to be anyway. However, Lucifer would have Sam believe that Dean’s concern was only out of obligation and his own fear of being lonely. It was times like this when Sam struggled to believe otherwise.
“Seriously,” Sam argued, “I’m fine. I’m just going to continue going over the files again to see if there’s anything we missed.”
“And what happens when we find the sonuvabitch?” Dean questions. “Are you even going to be able to put up a fight?”
Sam cringed at the question, feel extremely embarrassed by his brother’s lack of confidence. He knew he wasn’t in the best of shape lately, but it killed him to know his brother thought of him as a liability.
“Alright, I get it.” He gave in, stopping at the small table in the kitchenette. “I’m going to go clear my head then. Hopefully some fresh air will help.”
Dean nodded, satisfied with the compromise. He lied back down and threw his elbow over his eyes as Sam pulled his jacket on and stepped outside,
He Immediately sensed a presence near by and found himself pressing his finger into the palm of his hand. The feel of someone or something watching him was all too familiar lately. It was as if Sam was never really alone.
Still, his instincts hadn’t changed. His eyes scanned the parking lot, keeping his hand close to the pocket that hid his knife. Of course, if the threat was the typical hallucination, then his knife would do nothing, but it still made Sam feel somewhat in control.
“You really shouldn’t be here.”
FILLED Jefferson Starship (2/4)
“W-what are y-you?” Sam asked, his left hand cupping the foreign object protruding from his stomach.
The thing opened its mouth to reveal sharp fangs and threw out its left hand, a spike shooting from its wrist. It took Sam a second to register everything, but he clumsily swung his right arm out, yielding the knife at his attacker. The thing stepped back, causing Sam to stumble forward, jolting the spike in his abdomen.
“Oh, I am one of a kind, thanks to you and your pet angel.” The creature hissed. “You killed my brothers, my mother, and now I’m going to watch you die. Watch your brother mourn.”
Before Sam could react, the creature ran off, disappearing into the surrounding forest. Sam’s knees buckled and he reached out to catch himself on a near by pillar. His shirt soaking up blood.
He pushed himself off the pillar, stumbling to the wall across from him. Using the wall as his crutch, he slowly made his way back to the motel room. Sam shakily turned the door knob and leaned against the door frame to keep himself from falling forward.
“Dean,” he whispered, unable to take in enough air to speak any louder.
“Yeah, still awake,” Dean mumbled as he removed the arm draped over his head.
Sam moved away from the door frame slightly, giving his brother a good view of the spike. He saw the moment Dean registered his injury and it was right about the moment Sam felt himself losing the battle with consciousness.
“Sam!” Dean screamed. “What the fuck?”
And that was the last thing Sam heard, before he dropped to his knees. Thankfully something stopped him from falling flat on his face and he let himself slip away, taking in the familiar scent of beer and gunpowder.
“Dean,” The soft whisper was enough to get his attention.
He moaned and slowly lifted his arm from across his eyes, “Yeah, still awake.”
As he sat up and turned his head toward the door his eyes instantly registered the painful look across his brother’s face. Then he noticed the spike and saw Sam stumble forward.
“Sam!” He threw the covers back and flew out of bed. “What the fuck?”
Dean fell to his knees in front of Sam, catching his brother before he could completely hit the floor. He pushed Sam back slightly to get a good look at the protruding spike. Dean held Sam’s shoulder with one hand as he gently probed the front of the puncture wound. Then he let Sam’s head rest on his shoulder as he took a look at the entry wound.
There were just so many organs that could have been damaged and Dean was afraid if he removed the spike, he would be making it even worse. He pushed Sam back again, brushing the hair away from his brother’s face before firmly tapping Sam’s cheek.
“Wake up, Sam.” He commanded, then a little softer, “come on, Sammy.”
Sam slowly blinked his eyes, glancing around the room in confusion. Dean kept one hand on Sam’s shoulder, the other cupping the younger man’s face.
“Hey buddy,” Dean smiled when Sam’s eyes finally focused on him. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“It’s n-not a v-vamp,” Sam wheezed. “It had s-spikes.”
He stared at Sam, taking a moment to comprehend what he had said. “The thing we’re hunting did this?” He asked, watching Sam nod.
FILLED Jefferson Starship (3/4)
“Had fangs too,” Sam’s eyes started to drift closed again so Dean taped his cheek.
“Sam,” he figured it was a good idea to keep Sam talking until he could formulate a plan. “What else can you tell me?”
“He said h-he was one of a k-kind thanks to us.” Sam started to lift his hand to his abdomen, but dean quickly intercepted it, locking his fingers around Sam’s wrist.
“I don’t recall a monster with spikes and fa-,” Dean’s eyes went wide and he whispered, “Jefferson Starship.”
“The band?” Sam questioned. “Not s-seeing the connection here.”
Dean shook his head, “We found them back in Oregon. Eve’s monsters.”
“Cas killed them all,” Sam argued.
“I’m thinking he missed one.” Dean took a closer look at the spike, confirming that it was indeed similar to a wraiths. “Sam, we’re going to need to get this removed.”
“Okay,” Sam nodded in agreement. “Go ahead.”
“No way, Dude,” Dean shook his head vehemently. “I’m not doing this here.”
“Dean,” Sam stared at him with pleading eyes, but Dean managed to stay strong. He wasn’t taking any chances.
Ignoring Sam’s protest, Dean gently helped Sam sit back, careful not to jostle the spike too much. He made sure Sam was steady enough before he stumbled over to his bed and grabbed his phone. As soon as he knelt back down beside Sam, the younger brother shakily reaches out and gripped Dean’s wrist.
Dean stared at his brother, giving him a reassuring smile as he dialed the three digit number that was always a Winchester’s last resort. He stayed close to Sam as he rambled off the important details to the operator. His brother kept the firm grip on his wrist the entire time, only letting go when the paramedics made Dean move aside.
It was a whirl wind of movement. Question after question being asked and luckily Dean knew the answer to most of them, even though his body was running on auto pilot.
“We can’t remove this here,” one of the medics looked from Sam to Dean as he explained the situation. “We’re going to need to keep him upright. You can follow us to the hospital.”
“No,” Dean and Sam shouted at the same time, though Sam’s was more of a breathy whisper.
“I’m going with him,” Dean stated, not leaving any room for argument.
One look at Dean and the Medic knew better than to say a word. He simply nodded as he and his partner carefully helped Sam to his feet. Sam let out a painful cry as he was lifted into a standing position.
“Watch it,” Dean warned, staring daggers at the two men currently helping his brother.
“I’m okay,” Sam smiled tiredly and Dean could tell he was trying to make him feel better, even if it was a terrible attempt.
“Says the shish kabob,” He quickly grabbed his keys from the table as he followed to the ambulance, climbing right in and sitting beside his brother with a uneasy sigh. As soon as he knew Sam really was okay, he’d figure out how to kill the sonuvabitch, but that could wait a bit longer.
FILLED Jefferson Starship (4/4)
He managed to lift his hand slightly, feeling it brush against something warm. Sam slowly tilted his head in that direction, blinking his eyes open once again to see his brother resting his head atop the bed.
“Dean,” He croaked as he gently tapped Dean’s arm.
His brother startled awake, eyes quickly scanning their surroundings, a look of guilt taking over his tired features. Sam hated how often that look appeared on Dean’s face, especially because there was absolutely no reason for it.
“Hiya, Sammy,” Dean smiled. “How ya feeling?”
“I’m good,” He shrugged. “What happened?”
“You were stabbed by a starship.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “First of all, we need a better name. Secondly, I meant while I was out.”
“No need for a better name,” Dean leaned back in the chair with pride. “They are extinct, and I made sure of it this time.”
“So you took care of the monster without me?” He stared at his brother with a disapproving glare.
“I called Cas,” When Sam relaxed a bit, Dean continued. “We tracked the asshole down, beheaded the damn thing and burned it to ashes. All while you got some beauty rest.”
Sam smiled, “Someone has to still look good.”
“Oh, Sammy,” Dean laughed, leaning forward to slap Sam’s thigh. “You’ll need a hell of a lot more beauty sleep if you want to catch up to this fine specimen.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, even as he rolled his eyes and swatted Dean’s hand away. Truth is, Sam’s been a bit off his game lately. He knew it. This particular incident just made it all the more clear. Luckily, Dean was always there to help Sam get back on his feet. Dean didn’t do it out of obligation. His brother did it for him, stone number one, and that was something Sam could build on.