#THIS TOOK FOREVER EVEN THOUGH I ONLY ENDES UP DOING THREE FRICKIN DRAWINGS

[tiffanybluesclues]

@spncoldesthits please allow me to share with you the wild ride that I just took, revisiting my abandoned writing for the first time in years. I’ve just finished reading through the sparse draft of a coldest hits fic that I very much wish I’d finished three years ago.

As a refresher, this fic was an AU with fairy tale elements. It featured Thief Dean, Thief Sam, Princess Anna, Princess Hannah, and Prince Cas. Rowena and Ruby are witches, Henriksen is the lawman, and Bela is Bela. Angel siblings, Cas and Hannah are twins.

It was planned as a multiship fic with endgame Dean/Cas and individual chapters dedicated to several other Dean ships in explicit detail. I never got around to writing that explicit detail, and the excerpts below are maybe PG-13 at worse, but this post is probably going to be a hard pass for anyone who wants to avoid any of the pairings. Officially that’s Dean/Rowena, Dean/Bela, Dean/Victor, Dean/Anna, Dean/Hannah, Dean/Cas. 

Summary was:  “It’s not quite the Midas touch, but still: Dean is cursed; every fabric that he touches turns to pink lace. Only true love’s kiss can cure him. Or something like that. Kind of inconvenient for a thief who’s on the run. Even more inconvenient for a thief locked in the palace dungeon. Then again, maybe not.”  

Excerpts under the cut.

ONE CHAPTER WENT UP.

The published chapter 1 was about Dean and Rowena. Nothing new here if you already read what went up on AO3. Jump ahead to Bela for the “exclusive” content. :P

“You should consider it an honor. This is a variation on the gift granted to King Midas. You’re amongst royalty.” There was a slight upturn to her lips and it remained when she pressed them together. On anyone else, it might indicate someone holding in a laugh. On Rowena, it looked like an expression she’d set aside specifically for gloating.

“You don’t think you’re maybe overreacting a little bit here?” Dean spread his arms wide and dipped his head to gesture at his newly transformed attire. What had once been blue jeans, a black shirt, and green plaid over-shirt, now blended together in layers of baby pink lace. Even his black work-boots were drizzled in a pink lace overlay, strung together with pink lace laces.

&

“You insulted my choice of décor.” Rowena didn’t even look offended. She had an eyebrow raised now like she was attempting to teach manners to a naughty child.

“Look, I said sorry—” Dean started, but she interrupted him.

“You most certainly did not. As a matter of fact, you still haven’t.

”Dean sighed. “Okay. Fine. I’m sorry. I apologize.”

“You apologize for what?” Rowena was keeping up the scolding routine and Dean had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to stop himself from flinging a sarcastic remark at her. Don’t taunt the witch, don’t taunt the witch. He chanted to himself. If this is the kind of thing she did over a careless slight, he really didn’t want to find out what she’d do to him if he intentionally insulted her—especially with Sam still hiding out from the authorities one town over. Then again, maybe it was for the best that Sam didn’t see him like this.

“I apologize for making fun of your doilies.” Dean waved vaguely at the accents that had brought on all of this nonsense. “What do I know about decorations, right?”

“Indeed,” Rowena’s response was quick and sharp, free of the melodic false affection that her words had carried until that point. The change made Dean involuntarily flinch back and he was angry at himself for it. Frickin witches, man. Dean’s nostrils flared as he sneered at her. He was helpless and he knew it. It was times like this that he couldn’t stop himself; he did something aggressively stupid or he did something petty, sometimes a bit of both. Now, he stomped over to the couch tucked up against the front wall and slapped his palm against every throw pillow there before sitting on the couch itself and crossing his arms. He glared up at Rowena from atop the pink lace monstrosity.

Rowena inclined her head just slightly, only one side of her mouth curved up in a smirk now. The silence sat between them for a moment before she spoke. “It’s actually rather fetching, but you know, I do think I prefer things the way they were.”

With a waggle of her fingers, and a mumble of words that Dean didn’t think he would understand even if he could hear them clearly, Rowena changed the fabric of her couch and her pillows back, even as Dean remained sitting there clad in lace.

“So you can fix the curse.”

“Not quite.” Rowena didn’t look at Dean as she responded, instead raising her gaze to the ceiling in a mockery of someone playing coy.

“What do you mean ‘not quite’.” Anger was evident in the bite of Dean’s tone and the clench of his fists.

“I meeeeeeeaaann,” Rowena drew out the word as she turned her gaze back onto him, “Why sure, I can remedy the symptoms, should I choose, but an ailment is still an ailment.”

Rowena took two leisurely steps closer to the couch, drawing Dean’s attention briefly to her feet, but back up to her face when she stopped.

“A curse is still a curse.”

Two steps again. Dean watched her feet, watched her face, remained silent.

“And what would be the point of a curse if one could just casually remove it?”

Two steps.

Dean didn’t remove his attention from her face this time.

She smiled with teeth.

“But you needn’t worry. This curse is standard, as curses go. And it has a standard cure.”

“What’s the cure,” Dean didn’t hesitate to ask, but there was nothing eager in it. His voice was low and flat, experienced enough to know that he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“True love’s kiss, of course.”

“True love?” Dean scowled at her. “Bullshit. It doesn’t exist.”

Rowena laughed, full and bubbly. As far as Dean could tell, it was the first genuine emotion that Dean had seen from her this evening. “True love is a weakness, dear, of course it exists. Now, it may not last forever, and it may not be shared by both parties in just the same way, and it will probably happen between the most inconvenient people in the most inconvenient times, but it most certainly exists.”

“True love.” He felt like a parrot, but the very idea was ridiculous, possibly more ridiculous than the stupid curse itself. “A weakness and a cure.”

“That’s what the spell-book says…” Rowena trailed off.

“Does it?” Dean stood up and mimicked her two-steps-forward routine from earlier, which garnered her another one of those tiny smirks.

“I suppose more accurately it says ‘an intimate kiss from the one who is in the most awe and full of limitless adoration,’ but that is that not a bit wordy?”

Dean clenched his fists again and it drew Rowena’s eye.“

I must admit though, I am starting to see what you meant about the pink lace doilies. The fabric just looks ridiculous if one wants to appear intimidating,” Rowena shook her head in disapproval as she looked Dean over.

& then it gets pretty adult.

“This fabric, does it have the same effect when I’m wearing it as it has when you are?” Rowena clarified, “Does it make me less intimidating?”

The question alone made Dean’s throat feel suddenly tighter, he didn’t need to look her over to know the answer.

The swooping neckline of Rowena’s dress sat no lower than it had when it was made of royal blue velvet, but he didn’t have to lower his eyes to see that the broadly woven lace exposed more skin below her collar bone. Unlike his jeans, his boots, and the couch, Rowena’s dress had suffered the same fate as his t-shirt. The garment clung tightly in a single thin layer, stretched thinner where it pulled over muscles and curves.

&

“I think you’re lying,” Dean wanted to believe that she was lying, it was easier than if she were telling the truth. “I think you can fix this.”

“I said it before, and I meant it. The fix requires true love—or adoration of some sort—and you won’t find anything of that nature in this cottage…though you are welcome to try.”

In the end Dean left with a 10% discount on potions and an in-tact curse.

THE REST REMAINED UNFINISHED AND UNPUBLISHED.

But I just rediscovered all of these little portions I had for the unwritten chapters.

Jumping right in, I had some content drafted up for Dean and Bela.

“Alright, get it out of your system, say I look ridiculous.”

“That’s not…” Bela stopped herself mid-sentence, looked him up and down again, and then burst out laughing. “No, actually, that’s rather accurate. Ridiculous is exactly the word I’d use.”

Dean glared at her, but he couldn’t argue the point when she was simply agreeing with him.

Working with Bela was supposed to be a last resort, but in several short hours it had become his only viable course of action. She wasn’t going to be any help with the curse situation, but he and Sam did still need to get out of the kingdom where they were wanted men. Bela could help them with that at least.

He hadn’t even planned to see Bela before meeting up with Sam again, but he’d taken such a winding route to keep out of sight that she was now between him and his rendezvous point he’d agreed on with his brother. More importantly, she offered a place where he could duck inside and hide away from curious eyes come daylight.

He glanced down at himself again. At least his lace pants were thick enough and woven tightly enough that he couldn’t see the lace panties underneath. He could sure feel them though. 

After he explained his predicament, she directed him into the kitchen, where there were wooden chairs and tile floors and slightly less chance that she’d threaten to claw his eyes out for turning some expensive piece of furniture into a gaudy conversation piece. 

“So, now you’re off on a grand quest for true love and you came to me first? I’m flattered.”

& a scene with Dean, Bela, and Ruby which wasn’t really quotable but was apparently going to focus on...hand play.

There was clearly going to be a plot too though, because my outline for this chapter ends a totally plotty sentence.

He barely trusted Bela, he didn’t trust Ruby at all, but he was counting on them being decent enough to get his message to Sam since Dean had made it possible for them to get away.

& the same for a scene between Dean and Victor. I don’t even have any notes for how Dean and Victor end up in a scene together. Based on the final line that I wrote for the Bela and Ruby chapter I’m guessing he  It’s just a few snippets of dialogue and the important scene summary that I used when figuring out what AO3 tags I would need ( ”masturbation, exhibitionism, exhibitionist dean”).

“What the fuck?” Victor… [... I guess I never finished writing that sentence. ...]

“Yeah, sorry about that, if I were you I’d just let me go…”  

[... I also think something was supposed to go between these lines. ...]

Dean didn’t plan on jerking off while Victor watched, but you take what life throws at you.

& then Dean finally reunites with Sam and has to explain is predicament.

“So, let me get his straight. Instead of convincing the witch to help us flee the kingdom, you insulted her fashion choices and got cursed to turn things into pink lace?”

“Dude, she had a cauldron covered with a pink lace doily, tell me that’s not weird.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.  

“We’re already wanted men throughout this entire region. It was hard enough trying to escape notice when we could be disguised.” Sam raised his arms, palms up and gestured at Dean. “That is kind of noticeable.”

Dean stiffly shrugged in a poor attempt at feigning nonchalance. “It’s not like everyone knows what happened. People don’t exactly associate Dean Winchester with baby pink lace.”

~*~

“Sonofabitch,” Dean snatched down the flyer from where it was tacked to an oak tree. How the hell did they update these things so fast? The drawings only depicted them from the waist up, but the way that Dean had been illustrated he looked like a damn cheesecake pinup with chest-hugging lace swirled over his body.

Sam sighed. “I told you.”

“Oh, well good for you,” Dean snapped, shoving the wanted poster into what had once been a green canvas duffel bag given to his father in the military. (Dean had thrown a fit when the bag transformed, morphing into a thickly woven pale pink lace, faded but surprisingly durable. That durability was the only saving grace because the bag still needed to hold most of their weapons and stolen loot. He had a feeling though that the bag he’d inherited from his father was gone forever.)

“Fuckin’ Henriksen,” Dean grumbled. 

~*~ 

“It doesn’t make sense. In the myth of King Midas, he’s able to wash his magic touch away. There was no true kiss involved, true kisses are associated with fairy tales.”

“Yeah, well he had a God, and we’ve got Rowena.” 

~*~ 

Dean was hiding in a copse of trees when he made his decision. They had to send Sam in alone to rent out rooms now. In some ways it was less risky, since the authorities were looking for two men traveling together. In other ways it was more risky because it meant more sneaking, a greater need to remain quiet, and it meant that Dean’s every entry and exit put them at risk.

This winter was warmer than usual, but wet nights outside were unbearable, especially when Dean could find no relief from thick flannel blankets or jackets. He’d ruined enough of their dwindling supplies over the first three days, eventually he stopped trying.

Next notes that I have jump ahead to Dean and Anna.

~*~

It was decent as far as dungeons go. It resembled the majority of small-town jails that Dean had seen in this region. The bars were wide enough apart that he could slip an entire thigh between them—a terrible design really, he and Sam had learned years ago that it meant destroying just a single bar could set them free. No one stood much chance at holding the Winchesters prisoner when a single metal cylinder stood between them and freedom. 

~*~ 

Anna shrugged, “I don’t have the key. It doesn’t matter what my priorities are…but for the record, no, I don’t have any great interest in keeping you locked up.”   

[... I have nothing written between these two paragraphs but obviously SOMETHING else needs to happen to get them from the previous sentence to the following result. ...]

Anna’s dress turned red. A rich coppery red, darker than the color of her hair, not just a rich pink, but a drastically different shade.  

“Maybe it means something. Everything I’ve touched has turned to pink until now.” 

“Maybe you’re getting closer to your true love.” 

~*~

Yes. Fuck yes. Dean was definitely into what was happening here. Kissing Anna felt passionate and natural, that was a good sign, right? He had no idea how long they’d been kissing, but he could gladly keep going. Absolutely a good sign there. She tasted like lemonade and her tongue was kind of short.

In the back of his mind, Dean thought that was cute for some reason.

At the forefront of his mind though, he noticed that Anna was rubbing her breasts against his chest--at least as much as she could without jamming a jail cell bar into her sternum.

& that escalates a bit with them basically banging through the bars until Castiel shows up and pries them apart.

& then we have a chapter about Dean and Hannah.

~*~

 Anna had another woman with her, a brunette with blue eyes. Both of them were carrying wash rags. It looked out of place against their delicate dresses.  

“I highly doubt that this man is my true love,” Hannah spoke to Anna while she looked at Dean. She frowned. 

[... I think something was supposed to go between these two lines here. ...]

Dean and Hannah pressed their lips together through the bars. It was an awkward closed-mouth thing that barely resembled a kiss. Anna and Sam simultaneously huffed in exasperation at the two of them.  

[... Same. ...]

“Technically…” Dean started, but wavered on whether he should even bother.

“What?” Hannah looked genuinely curious, so Dean decided to go for it.

“The cure is supposed to involve an intimate kiss, which…could mean a lot of things, depending on how you’re taking it.” 

“We might not have done enough,” Anna smiled up at him slyly, “Think of all the things that could be intimate kisses.”

Hannah looked between the two of them, unsure but thoughtful, “The language of curses and their cures can often be symbolic or poetic. A kiss may not mean a kiss…”

& then more explicit content and Hannah’s clothes turn to lacy lilac. So we’ve gone from everyone else’s clothes turning baby pink, to Anna’s turning a dark coppery red, to Hannah’s turning a light purple, so there’s clearly something special going on with the curse as it relates to that family line.

& then we have the final chapter, about Dean and Castiel.

Castiel unbuttoned his shirt and placed it on the bench. 

“You,” Castiel spoke as he continued to undress, “Are going to stay away from my siblings. I am going to discipline you for the liberties that you took. And you are going to be beaten far too severely to make any further advances.” 

[... There’s nothing between these two paragraphs but I feel like something was supposed to be here. Maybe some description. ...]

“I’m aware of your abilities. I have no intention of ruining my wardrobe. Turning things to lace, what an absurd power.” Stripped down to his white cotton boxers, Castiel moved to enter the cell.

“Is that a twin thing?” Dean asked and Castiel just tilted his head, looking confused, so Dean continued, “The white cotton undies. It’s cute. You two matched. Well, until I…you know.”

& there’s a few sentences after that, but past-me didn’t even start outlining a proper conclusion. Tsk tsk.

Anyway, thought that it would be fun to share some of my unpublished content that SPN Coldest Hits inspired. Might never see the light of day outside of this post, but if you’re one of the people who read the first chapter, then you now have a little glimpse into what was supposed to follow.

[souridealist]

So I finally got hold of a copy of Thick as Thieves

And may have reflexively clutched it to my chest in the bookstore like it was a long-lost friend, don’t look at me. Scattered reactions underneath the cut! (Scroll like hell if you’re on mobile; there’s major spoilers but there’s also a rambly-ass wall of text to conceal them.)

I think it’s interesting, structurally, that it’s been three frickin’ books since we actually got anything at all from Eugenides’s POV even though it is very much his series. It does at least reinforce my impression of The Queen of Attolia as the central book in the series and no, I’m not just saying that because it’s my favorite, shut up.  But I do wonder if, since apparently the next book is going to be the last, if we’re going to end up with two triptychs: The Thief, The Queen of Attolia, and the unnamed last one as the main story, and The King of Attolia, A Conspiracy of Kings, and Thick as Thieves as the “spinoffs.” KoA is the least convincing as a spinoff, and the most Eugenides’ story out of the three, since it’s the story of how he took command of Attolia as much or more as it is the story of Costis gaining respect for him.

Sidebar: the way that I read these books was Exactly Wrong, because it was as follows: I read half of The Thief while entirely too young for it, forgot about it completely, received KoA several years later when it was the most recent in the series, and read through it with no more idea of what was going on than Costis. I wouldn’t recommend this - it was like never getting to read Queen of Attolia for the first time, just skipping ahead to the first reread - but it made for a really interesting experience of KoA, and I think probably an unusual one? And is probably why it took me until now to think “hey, Costis kind of stands in for all of Attolia in going from contemptuous of Gen to devoted!”

Anyway. Thick as Thieves is definitely a side-story, as is Conspiracy of Kings - I’d need to reread CoK to analyze it at all, but everything that’s relevant to the story of the Little Peninsula in ToT is in the last, oh, fifty pages? But both of them are, I think, the stories of how Eugenides affects other people. (And this is why I lumped KoA in with them earlier). In ToT it’s about Eugenides rearranging his life; in CoK it was about Eugenides inspiring Sophos to go from uselessly scholarly heir to king. They’re both about Gen’s impact, just as KoA is also about how Gen affects Costis. I really love the personal-vs-political pressures in this series, can you tell?

Speaking of personal-vs-political, I’ve seen a few intersections between this series’ fandom and that of the Vorkosigan books, which I have to stop myself from calling the Barrayar books on a regular basis. I think that pressure, personal and political playing off each other, probably draws people to both series. The end of the book, with Kamet getting fond of Attolia (and I do wish that that had more focus), made me want a particular kind of story – a story about how Attolia changes everyone who comes into her borders – and I think that also reminds me of the Barrayar books, because they also had that thread in them.

Anyway, back to the actual book I’m reacting to, here. I guessed that Costis was Costis very early on, but that wasn’t really meant to be a secret, and I liked that the moment when Kamet finally used his name still had impact even though we all knew by that point. I knew Kamet wasn’t going to be delivered and then thrown out, obviously – we know Gen’s not like that.  And we know that the series twists on you and there’s always more going on than you think, so I at least was looking for the twist the whole time. I guessed what it was wrong, though; I thought for a very large chunk of the book that Costis knew Nahuseresh was dead and hadn’t realized Kamet didn’t know he knew. Eventually I started realizing that I was wrong; I didn’t really have a replacement theory. I did guess that Kamet was being abducted for reasons other than annoying Nahuseresh, and that it was for the things he knew, but I’m not sure how much that counts as guessing the twist, given that we know Gen. I guessed that Gen was the disobedient Attolian servant Kamet was friends with, though I’m still a little vague on the timeline there – before Gen got his hand cut off, I think? Or was it an offscreen bit in QoA? Either’s possible. I did not guess that Nahuseresh was still alive, so, MWT’s still got it.

I was definitely expecting Ennikar or Immakuk to show up, and I do think Ennikar did, that feverish Costis had the right of it. I doubt we’re supposed to know, though.

Whatever was going on with Gen’s youngest attendant at the end went right past me – young Erondites? What? I thought there were only two Erondites children, Dite and Sejanus; was there a sister who’s now Gen’s sweet-Polly-Oliver attendant? What? I need a reread, I guess.

Her Highness Gitta Kingsdaughter is making me tear my hair with frustration. Who introduces something like that on a frontispiece map? Who? Who does that? Googling brought up interviews, and apparently she’s trying very hard to have her own story and MWT is trying not to write it, and. Tearing of hair, gnashing of teeth, why aren’t the other books in front of me!

And finally – until tomorrow, anyway – Costis/Kamet. Oh my God. I was actually… not expecting, but faintly hoping, that it was on purpose? It didn’t seem to be, and, well, I didn’t expect it, but I wish it had been there. Not just because I ship it like burning, although that’s true, but because… this series and I go a long way back, and it would have meant a lot to me to have a queer love story in a series that has been so important to me for so long. (See also: Nico di Angelo, intense feelings about.) And I got my hopes up, just a little, never really thinking I had a chance, so it stung a little. On the other hand, I was genuinely afraid for a while that they were going to part ways forever, so the relief of realizing that Gen was sending them off into the sunset together was a balm to that particular self-inflicted hurt.

Fangirl hat taking over from queer girl hat (not that they’re not often comorbid hats) – for fuck’s sake. “My Attolian.” Tongue-in-cheek talking about who could ever possibly be so foolish as to get romantically entangled, followed by staring at the sky and waiting for the other one to speak. The constant push-and-pull of power between the two of them, of Costis trying not to hold power and Kamet pushing them back into master-and-slave roles because that’s how he knew how to interact with the world – that is a damned fascinating dynamic whether it’s romantic or not, but I’m a person with a sexual interest in complicated power dynamics and it had my attention. Kamet’s complete shutdown when he thought Costis was dead, and complete inability to abandon Costis to his illness. That fucking scene where Costis and his bulging muscles pull Kamet close by the replacement chain and tear the inks apart. I know what I want for Yuletide. (They also get a tag.)