I think to be courageous, you have to be afraid. For me, it feels very courageous when I go skiing because I’m very, very afraid to ski. It’s dangerous! I feel very scared. But when I’m acting, I don’t feel very scared.
A while back I was asked about what my favorite wincest fics are, and here they are! I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! Check out my other wincest fic recs for more of my favorite stories ( x , x )
Out in the woods on a camping trip, Sam and Dean can’t keep off each other despite their Dad being a mere two thin layers of nylon and a very short distance away.
Their ages aren’t specified in the fic, but in my head Sam’s about 15 here, and Dean about 19. There are some firsts here but their first real foray into incest occurred one week before this fic takes place.
John Winchester has never been Father of the Year - especially to Sam, who he blames for Mary’s death. He finally crosses the line and comes unhinged when he finds out his boys are sleeping together, and poor Sam cops the full force of his rage, forcing Dean to take his baby brother and hit the road to save both their hides. The damage is already done, though, and Sammy has some pretty serious wounds - mental and physical. He’s just starting to get himself together in the safe haven of Sioux Falls when John tracks them down, determined to finish what he started, and Dean is forced to do something drastic to protect his baby brother. (No spoilery warning details here, beyond that it was written for a hardcore Big Bang. I can tell you it’s complete, though…)
When Sam Winchester was a baby, his mother Mary was murdered and her husband John quickly became the prime suspect. In his Kansas hometown, always the outcast, John was falsely accused of his wife’s death, so he took his son and fled town, living a life on the road…until now. It’s summer time and John decides to stay with one of his old Marine buddies and mechanic, Bobby Singer. Sam’s life changes when he meets the handsome green-eyed boy who works there.
His whole life, Dean Winchester travels through time, forwards and backwards, but he always comes back to Sam. Dean doesn’t believe in destiny, but if it does exist, his is Sam. This story is inspired by Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time-Traveler’s Wife.
The day Azazel’s son turns sixteen years old, there’s a big party thrown in his mansion to celebrate prince Samuel’s birthday. The boy is smart but quiet, and not used to the world outside his dad’s home. He also carries a secret that shapes his life and burdens him constantly. While the most important people in town will be there to take part in the event, people like Dean Winchester, the son of the town’s mechanic and Azazel’s enemy, is definitely unwelcome at the party. Dean, who has a reputation for his great charm and libido, can hardly resist the chance to crash this party and provoke his dad’s foe. What happens when Dean, an experienced and seductive lover, lays eyes on Azazel’s mysterious and shy son will cause old secrets to surface and change their lives forever.
The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul?
It was Erwin who had first named the stars, all those years ago on the rooftop of the old Survey Corps headquarters where Levi had fled to escape waking dreams of green-eyed ghosts and bloodied corpses. The ghosts followed him out into the night but at least it was easier to breathe up there, even if every freezing breath made his bones feel like they would shake apart. And that’s where Erwin had found him, staring out into the darkness with blank unseeing eyes.
Levi turned his head. Erwin was standing behind him, pointing up into the night sky.
“Sirius, the Dog Star.”
Levi followed the line of his finger to the pinprick of light.
It wasn’t a question, but before Levi could answer, a too-large jacket was draped over his shoulders. It was warm and smelled faintly of saddle soap, sweat and cologne. Levi shrugged, but he couldn’t help burrowing into the warmth and the scent, as Erwin sat down at the far end of the parapet.
“Why’s it called that?”
“I don’t rightly know.” Erwin laughed softly in the darkness, a warm human sound that made something in Levi’s chest ache.
The following night it was the hunter.
“His name’s Orion. See? There’s his belt and his sword.”
“What the fuck? That doesn’t look anything like a sword.”
The next night again it was the water carrier.
“Aquarius. I think that’s supposed to be the outline of a water jar, and that’s the water pouring out.”
Erwin was squinting into the darkness, brows creased together. He didn’t sound convinced.
“Yeah right…” Levi muttered. He’d stopped shivering.
“That’s Pisces!” Erwin pointed excitedly one night. “The fishes. You couldn’t see it last month.”
“The stars move. They rotate around the sky throughout the year.”
“How do you know all this shit anyway?”
The silence stretched into the darkness and when Erwin spoke again his voice was thick and tight.
“My father taught me.”
Night after night Erwin mapped the heavens and named the stars. None of it made any sense to Levi, but the names of the stars kept the ghosts at bay.
“That’s the plough,” he said one night, pointing to the west.
Levi didn’t know what a plough was, but it didn’t matter because Erwin’s arm was pressed against his shoulder and he could feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek.
“Looks more like a pan to me.”
Levi could hear the smile in his voice.
“Yeah, there’s the handle, see?”
Levi pointed, tracing the outline of a saucepan in the sky
“Oh yes, you’re right!”
One night Erwin pointed directly overhead.
“See that one?”
“Which one?” Levi tilted his head back, until it rested against Erwin’s shoulder.
“That one. The bright one.”
“That’s Polaris, the North Star or the Pole Star. Some people call it the guiding star.”
“Because it never moves.”
“You said all the stars moved.”
“Not that one. That one is always in the North. If you ever get lost or…” Erwin stopped suddenly.
“Or what?” Levi angled his head to look up at his face. Erwin was frowning, his eyes dark in the starlight.
“If something happens, if you every get left behind…outside the walls. That star will guide you home.”
“Home?” The word was foreign in Levi’s mouth.
“Well, back here at any rate.”
Erwin’s arm tightened around Levi’s shoulders, drawing him closer in the darkness.
And it was true. Levi always made it back. He followed his guiding star and he always made it home. Until the day his North Star was snuffed out and Levi found himself alone, lost and directionless in a world with no compass.
One night, when the aching emptiness grew too much to bear, he went back to the old headquarters, scaled the walls and climbed onto the roof. Polaris hung bright and steady overhead as Levi sat in the darkness and traced patterns in the sky, calling back his ghosts with the names of the stars.
Superclusters – regions of space that are densely packed with galaxies – are the biggest structures in the Universe. But scientists have struggled to define exactly where one supercluster ends and another begins. Now, a team based in Hawaii has come up with a new technique that maps the Universe according to the flow of galaxies across space. Redrawing the boundaries of the cosmic map, they redefine our home supercluster and name it Laniakea, which means ‘immeasurable heaven’ in Hawaiian.
Just a little nighttime cosmic perspective for yall.
Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. Psalm 119:105 The Bible contains the mind of God, the state of man, the way of salvation, the doom of sinners, and the happiness of believers. Its doctrines are holy, its precepts are binding, its histories are true and immutable. Read it to be wise, believe it to be safe, and practice it to be holy. It contains light to direct you, food to support you, and comfort to cheer you. It is the traveller’s map and the believer’s sword.Christ is its subject, here, Heaven is opened, treasures are discovered and the gates of hell disclosed. It should fill our memory, rule our hearts, and guide our feet. Read it slowly, frequently, and prayerfully. It is a mine of wealth and a river of pleasure.
No timer counts down to our union. Only the heavens know of that hour. No map leads me to you, or tells me Of the miles that keep us apart, Only time can show us the way. Not the sort that fantasizes future, I know today is all I can claim my own But lately I’ve been dreaming of how My racing heart will set the beats Twined with the rhythm of rain on leaves. Whistle of winds will mimic a melody born atop the sea, only for us to hear. Clouds will sway and shades of violet will dance in the sky as words from me cascade into your ears in lyrical harmony. The moon’s pull will compose a chorus performed by crashing waves of blue In symphony with the song I’d sing to you.
Hira // waiting for you.
Written for the prompt : the song I’d sing to you.