#dnb 2024

When he drew level, he chanced a glance over at the other man, who turned when he sensed that he’d become a subject of scrutiny. Dean’s breath stopped in his throat. The man’s jaw was sharp as a word spoken in anger, his skin pale and clean-shaven. Long, graceful fingers played idly with one of the free Funtime Liquors matchbooks as he waited. His eyes promised mischief and mysteries. Dean wouldn’t have been surprised to learn the man had just stepped out of a movie screen.Too late, he realized he was staring, and then only because the man’s plump lips had twitched slightly on one side. Dean cleared his throat. “Merry Christmas,” he said. “Merry Christmas to you too, officer,” the man returned. Dean flinched, feeling caught out. Whoever the man was, he was clearly smart if plainclothes didn’t fool him. “That obvious?” he asked. When Dean chanced another glance at the man, he was still looking back, humor glinting in his eyes. “It’s practically stamped on your forehead.” Maybe Dean ought to have taken that for the dismissal it likely was, but the bit of humor in the man’s gaze felt almost akin to a smile. Most men wouldn’t smile at someone they wanted gone. “Haven’t I seen you in a movie?” Dean tried. The man dropped his head with a low, rough chuckle. Dean fought down a surge of embarrassment. A handsome man in a well-cut suit, five blocks from Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, where all the most glamorous Hollywood premieres took place? It wasn’t too outrageous a guess. Dean was about to tell the man “never mind” when he caught Dean’s eyes again and said, “It’s unlikely. Unless you happened to pay very close attention to Youth Number 3 in the opening scene of It Came From Saturn's Rings.” “You were in that?” Dean asked eagerly. This time, there was no fighting the heat on his face. He had a great weakness for science fiction movies, and he remembered seeing a screening of It Came From Saturn's Rings on opening night some three years back. Even working in Hollywood for as long as he had, he’d never stopped being a little starry-eyed about anybody who’d graced the silver screen. His question got him an interesting reaction: the man’s head tipped to the side, his eyes narrowing, the better to study Dean. For the first time, he seemed to put some actual stock in their conversation. “You’ve seen it?” “Yeah,” Dean confirmed, embarrassingly pleased to have found this patch of common ground between them. “It was good.” It hadn’t been anything special, in truth, but the man was smiling in earnest now, one side of those plush lips curving up, and Dean thought he’d do just about anything to keep that smile going.

- Code of Silence

by @friendofcarlotta, art by @rezal-art

The Destiel Noir Bang 2024 Masterpost

That's all she wrote!

Big thanks to all the authors and artists who helped make this little bang a reality. Here are all the teams' and artists' contributions as well as the official Destiel Noir Bang collection on Ao3.

“Cigars? Cigarettes?” When I turned, it was to come face to face with Dorian Gray. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t aged a day in about a decade or so. Now whether that was because he was a Lit, or that damned portrait… His cobalt blue eyes rivaled my own, although, if I’m honest, his were always prettier. His curly blonde hair was coifed in a pompadour and his scarlet lips were curled in a hungry smile. He was dressed in a form-fitting pair of charcoal pants and an even tighter black t-shirt that left little to the queer imagination, carrying a tray of different smokes. “Dorian, what are you doing here?” With a wistful, overly dramatic sigh, Dorian pouted his plush lips and said, “Work’s been slow for those of us with a little more… culture.” Which meant with how many contemporary novels were capturing the attention of audiences, any Lits from the 19th century or earlier had to get creative to make a living. This suited Dorian, considering his nature. “But I’m still exquisitely tragic.” With a soft laugh, I nodded, reveling in his beauty for a moment, although I was far too old for him now. “Yeah, you are.” The lights started to dim and a spotlight shined on the closed curtains. I caught Crowley in my peripheral vision, straightening his tie and sitting upright. He even pulled out a small bottle of cologne, spraying it against his neck. It reeked of licorice and cloves, the breath of a child that got into his father’s cigarette case. I turned to Dorian with a bemused expression. “What’s with him?” Dorian smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on his pants with a shrug. “Oh, Mr. Crowley never misses a night when Dean performs.” “Got a thing for Lits, huh?” At that, Dorian gave me a pointed look. “If I recall, you did as well at one point.” I cleared my throat and grabbed my drink, gulping down half of it at the implication, feeling a warmth at the memories that comment conjured. The crowd grew silent and the band could be heard from the pit, warming up their instruments. Then a familiar intro began, an infamously upbeat Cole Porter song that had been slowed down from a jazzy little jaunt to something sedated, steady, and sentimental. Just as a soft beat began, the curtains jostled and a leg popped out, bent at the knee in skin tight purple pants. “We’re all alone… No chaperone… Can get our number… the world’s in slumber… ” A sultry, deep voice sang in a pleasant register, masterfully turning jazz to a ballad. The curtains parted and revealed one of the most breathtaking creatures I had ever seen in my life. “Let’s misbehave…”

- Who Framed Sam Winchester? by @queerwolf79, art by @anyreiart

He glides through the unseemly crowd like mercury in a lamplight, his footfalls barely whispering against the concrete beneath the murky cover of cigarette smoke and lust. The dim lights swaying overhead barely graze his face, shrouded beneath the shadow of a faded fedora. When it does, it reveals eyes of sapphire steel that create their own gravitational pull in this grimy joint. Every voice hushes, and every whiskey-soaked gaze turns as he strides through the warren of illicit dealings and poker-faced cons. They know him, this enigma wrapped in a trench coat. They respect him — or perhaps they fear him. After all, his reputation precedes him. At the end of the dive bar, he gives a curt nod toward Crowley. A mere mortal by comparison but infamous in his ways, their alliance is an uncomfortable reality that sets my teeth on edge. The dregs of my whiskey burn in my throat as I admit that Angel’s presence casts a long shadow over Castiel’s sudden disappearance like thunderclouds, signaling an incoming downpour. I know one thing with certainty — unraveling Angel’s secrets was the key to finding Castiel, or it might pull me deeper into an ominous plot about to unfold.

- Bette Davis Eyes by @valandrawrites, art by @kingdumbass

Who Framed Sam Winchester?

By queerwerewolf | @queerwolf79 Art by anyrei | @anyreiart

Coming to Ao3 on 12/27/2024

Rated Explicit | 29,180 words | No Archive Warnings Apply

Down-on-his-luck private eye Cas Novak gets hired by Angelic Studios president, Nick Vaught, to investigate a scandal involving an infamous literary character (Lit), Dean Winchester, and Vaught’s primary nemesis, Fergus Crowley. A devilish producer and prop designer who has his hands in every movie studio in Los Angeles. Crowley’s prop factory shares a wall with Lit Town, and worse yet, he owns the contract for every Lit. Every contract, that is, except for brothers Sam and Dean Winchester from the Supernatural book series. When Crowley is found murdered, Sam Winchester becomes the primary suspect and goes on the run. The villainous Judge Edlund vows to catch and destroy Sam, having discovered a means of killing Lits with a substance known only as “Pulp”. Desperate to prove his brother’s innocence, Dean demands Cas help him find his brother before the Judge does. Despite vowing to never work with another Lit after his twin brother's murder, Cas agrees. With a contentious start to their working relationship, Dean Winchester and Cas Novak begin to uncover an ever growing nefarious plot. Can Cas and Dean put a stop to this evil ploy? And more importantly, will their attraction to each other get in the way of saving the day?

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

Bette Davis Eyes

By ValandraWrites | @valandrawrites Art by kingdumbass | @kingdumbass

Coming to Ao3 on 12/06/2024

Rated Explicit | 23,330 words | No Archive Warnings Apply

When Dean Winchester takes the case of a missing person named Castiel Milton, he doesn’t realize he is stepping into a web of secrets, danger, and deceit. The dark alleys and smoke-laden gin joints become his hunting ground, and every lead points to a name whispered with equal parts reverence and dread: Angel. In an era where love between two men is a dangerous secret best kept silent, Dean finds himself entwined with a blue-eyed beauty by an undeniable bond as dangerous as it is profound. The stakes are high, and with each layer of dirt they peel away comes more secrets. Love and loyalty are tested, and Dean and Castiel have to decide if they will risk defying the odds and carve out a path together amidst a world hell-bent on ripping them apart. Or The one where gumshoe Dean Winchester meets criminal Castiel “Angel” Krushnic, and things do not go as planned.

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

Winchester: Nightmare Investigator

By bleuzombie | @bleuzombie

Art by verobatto | @verobatto-messy-art

Coming to Ao3 on 12/20/2024

Rated Teen | 5,000 words | No Major Archive Warnings Apply

Dean Winchester is looking for a case. He’s not looking for anything other than a cup of coffee. Until Castiel Novak walks in with eyes bluer than the ocean and a desperate need for his help. How can Dean say no?

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

Code of Silence

By FriendofCarlotta | @friendofcarlotta Art by Rezal | @rezal-art

Coming to Ao3 on 12/13/2024

Rated E | 57,000 words | Graphic Descriptions of Violence

Hollywood, 1955: LAPD Officer Dean Winchester doesn’t mind throwing a punch or fudging the evidence if it means getting wife beaters and cold-blooded criminals behind bars. That approach doesn’t sit too well with his younger brother and colleague Sam, who’s been making enemies at the LAPD with his straight-laced, by-the-book philosophy. Between trying to keep up with the job and looking out for his brother, Dean doesn’t have much time for happiness. Not until he meets Castiel, a handsome escort who is everything Dean never knew he wanted. Unfortunately, Castiel is also caught up in a criminal conspiracy that reaches far into the LAPD itself. To expose the department’s corruption and save Castiel, Dean and Sam will have to put aside their differences — and reckon with a dark secret in their family’s past.

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]