Slash fic, that is fanfiction showing romantic, often non-cannon and transgressive relationships, runs the range from G-rated fluff to harder stuff. By transgressive I mean more than portraying Hermione and Harry as a married couple after the seventh book came out, or even Harry and Draco with their adopted child. Fanfiction, like regular fiction and most like our own minds, plays in dangerous grounds. This brings us to Wincest.
That term describes the relationship in fics portraying a romantic relationship between the two male leads of the horror show Supernatural. As the only two regularly recurring characters for the show’s five completed seasons, they are logical romantic partners given the “stubborn romanticizing and eroticizing impulse” of many fans. The trouble is, they are brothers.
Supernatural wrote a reference to this pairing into an episode whether the Winchester brothers meet a Prophet of the Lord named Chuck who was publishing his gospels, mostly about their lives, as trashy romance novels. In the TV show, the novels of the characters’ lives have fans, and thus, slash-pairings. Here is a clip where the brothers troll briefly through a fan forum:
This stubborn romanticizing and eroticizing impulse is why romance accounts for such a large proportion of fanfiction’s subjects. Even works where sex is eschewed–see Dr Who–relationships are major inspirations. And though sometimes I feel like I am being trolled when I read about the carnal relationship between the squid-thing and Hogwarts castle, I see any fic about fictional characters as a valid creative expression.
As long as no one makes me read it.
“In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had fired two shots. I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes’s pistol came down on the man’s head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend’s wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair.
“You’re not hurt, Watson? For God’s sake, say that you are not hurt!”
It was worth a wound — it was worth many wounds — to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation.
“It’s nothing, Holmes. It’s a mere scratch.”
He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket-knife.”–“The Adventures of the Three Garridebs”, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, quoted from LillianLemoning.