#endverse AU

[artymcart]

Prologue

God is dead. Literally.

But what was the price?

While Castiel griefs a son, while Dean drinks himself to sleep and nearly to death, Sam tries to find a way to get rid of Eileen and while she tries to find a way to slither into the small cracks she can find, Heaven and Hell have a talk in the Bunker.

Decisions have to be made, sacrifices too.

But how far will they go, our heroes? What are they able to give for the greater good?

Welcome to The End!

Or in this case, how it began.

.

Artist Note: Welcome guys to the Prologue!

I'm really excited about this, since it's something I always wanted to do but was so far gone in the EndverseAU that I wasn't able to go THIS far back in the story. I hope you enjoy the early parts of this adventure . It's definitely an exciting thing to go back to a more canon version of the characters but still making them to what they are now haha!

So, let Suptober23 begin!

EndverseAU Masterpost

[sunbleachedf4wn]

do you see the vision?

[lambmotifz]

time travel au. endverse dean/early season sam

for @sunbleachedf4wn ♡

[valleydean]

The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Rating: Explicit

Word count: ~118k

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest

[twisted-tales-told]

ALSO if anyone wants the playlist for the fic here she is

arik!! sending this ask to you bc i was sent the ask and it's so fun and also i wanna know ur answers bc ur music slays <33

"when you get this ask you could perhaps maybe bless us with 5 of ur fav songs (currently or of all time), and then send this ask to 5 of your moots who you think have good taste! :)"

HI HI HI NAT!!!

U & @boydykepdf have asked me this lovely question and I procrastinated it away so bad but I am here I am music sharing!!!

Okay my taste is WEIRD right now because I’m writing a new fic that’s very apocalypse vibes

SO

Here’s the songs I’m listening to in order to write this Angsty ass apocalypse fic

Bonus song with complete 180 vibes that is also a part of the apocalypse au

[an-android-in-a-tutu]

I HAVE. A self indulgent AU that I'm not sure I've ever discussed here but I'm too lazy to check. It's about endverse Cas travelling in time back to season one to stop the apocalypse, which has been done and done very well, but the twist is. Endverse Claire.

[bedlund]

official benedictions endorsement/rec/moodboard

[debsarcasticplight]

Starlight

The Impala rumbles to a halt outside The Starlight Motel, its tired engine sighing in relief. Dean leans back in the worn leather seat, rubbing his eyes, exhausted. The road has started to take its toll on Dean despite him having made this trip countless times before. After nearly a decade, his journey here and back again has become the only ritual that keeps him connected to his past and the one person still holding a piece of his heart.

Stepping out of the car, Dean can't help but glance around, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. The Starlight Motel hasn't changed much over the years. It’s still the same dingy, run-down place where he and Cas first met, spent countless hours as kids, and dreamt about escaping from someday.

Dean makes his way to the front desk, the bell above the door jingling softly as he pushes it open. The desk clerk, a tired-looking woman with bleach-blonde hair and bright red lipstick, removes an unlit cigarette from her lips before offering him a half-hearted smile. 

"Can I help you?" she asks, her voice heavy with boredom.

"Yeah," Dean replies, pulling out his wallet and tossing a few crumpled twenties onto the counter. 

"I need a room for a couple of nights."

"Okay, you're in #12," The clerk says, taking the money and handing Dean a key with very little investment.

Dean nods and heads for the lobby, the worn carpet muffling his footsteps. It's early November, but there are still a few flimsy-looking Halloween decorations strewn around in the corners of the motel. Just another subtle reminder that time keeps marching, regardless of whether anyone’s ready to start letting go. Room 12 is just like every other room in the place—barely functional, but it has a bed and a shower, which is all he really needs.

Dean tosses his duffel bag onto the bed and lets out a long sigh. He knows he has to check on Cas next. Doing so has become a routine for him, a way to ease his conscience, even though Dean’s never sure what he will find. Dean’s been renting Cas a room at the Starlight Motel year-round since he left, figuring it's the least he can do for the guy. Cas has a tendency to move around a lot, seeking out the sketchiest people while chasing his next high. At least this way, Dean can try to help his friend retain some semblance of home, even if it's back here, of all places.

Pulling out his phone, Dean scrolls until he finds his favorite picture: two young boys, their eyes wide with anticipation and ready for whatever life has in store. Although the original photo was taken many years ago, Dean can't help keeping a digital copy purely for sentimental value.

Holding a breath, Dean taps "Call" as a pit of concern opens up beneath his ribs. He’s got six different phone numbers for Cas currently, and it's always a gamble whether any of them will even go through.

"Hello?" Cas's voice crackles over the line, already sounding very far away.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says, trying to keep his voice casual. 

"It's me."

There is a long pause before Cas replies.

"Back again so soon, Dean?"

Dean runs a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to steady his breathing.

"Naw, you know me, I’m just passing through. But I thought I'd call and see how you're doing."

"You know how I'm doing, Dean." Cas states, his voice thick with bitterness. 

Dean winces at the truth in his friend's words. Knowing all too well how much Cas has struggled for years now, battling demons Dean still doesn’t fully understand. They had been close once, more so than anyone could’ve imagined, but life has taken them down different paths.

"Listen," Dean begins, 

"I rented myself a room at The Starlight for a few nights. Why don't you swing by? I’ll order us some pizza and maybe restock your fridge. We can catch up."

Cas hesitates, and for a moment, Dean thinks he might actually say no. 

"Okay, Dean. I'll be there." Cas says, sounding defeated.

Dean hangs up and lets out another sigh, this one heavier than the last. He knows he can't save Cas or fix the mess that is his life. But he also can't find it in himself to walk away either. Not after everything they have been through.

Dean leaves his room, returning to the front desk once more. When he requests an extra copy of Cas's room key, the clerk hands it over without question. She’s seen this all before, the two of them coming and going like ghosts.

Back in his room, Dean sits on the edge of the bed and stares out the window. The parking lot is empty, save for a few beat-up-looking cars. The neon sign of The Starlight flickers and buzzes, casting an eerie glow over everything.

Dean can't help but think back to his and Cas’s origins as he waits. They had been inseparable as kids, each other's lifelines in a world that seemed determined to tear them apart. They had even dated briefly, an awkward and confusing experiment in teenage love. Then Sam died, Dean left town, and Cas stayed behind to pick up the pieces alone. Even now, after all these years, the wrongs of the past haunt Dean, while the present feels no less bleak. But he’s determined to be there for Cas, no matter how impossible the task seems. For the sake of the man he once loved and probably still does, Dean knows he has to at least try.

[dogearedheart]

I need to read your fanfics

ngl me too, anon! I wish I'd be able to finish them 😪

[ilikebeesandflowers]

Why didn’t anyone tell me that The Blue Castle by LM Montgomery is destiel fanfic to a tee?? Like? Dean lives this sad repressed little life and then gets diagnosed with a fatal heart condition *faith!dean style* so he shrugs off his awful family and runs away to care for a dying friend and accidentally falls in love with the scruffy elusive hermit Cas who is bad-boy-coded and lives outside society’s rules and drives a shitty old beater. When his friend dies and he has to go back home, Dean asks Cas to marry him so he can *really live* his final year, no strings attached, you don’t even have to love me! They get married The Next Day by some backwoods preacher but it’s all legal, and Dean’s family can’t say shit about it. Ps, they don’t know he’s dying. So time passes and they are ecstatically happy, living in the woods as a Fake Married couple (except obviously they bone), and There’s Only One Bed.

Fast forward to the day that Dean almost gets run over by a train, which should have killed him outright, but he DIDN’T DIE, and they are both super in-their-heads about it. Cas disappears for a few days. MEANWHILE Dean is like, oh my god, I trapped that fine-ass fellow and he’s gonna divorce me for tricking him. No prob, I’ll leave him a note to say it’s okay for him to divorce me. Except then! Dean meets Cas’ dad and finds out that he is richer than God. So when he writes his little note (and also accidentally discovers that Cas is ALSO Dean’s favourite writer, holy shit you guys), CAS thinks Dean doesn’t want to be married to him anymore bc he’s ashamed of daddy warbucks. And they have a whole-ass confrontation in which Dean’s like, no you can’t love me bc I’m poor and homely, and Cas is like, no you can’t love me bc my dad is an embarrassment.

BUT THEN, they talk and it’s okay, they BOTH LOVE EACH OTHER, and they travel the world together and write books and live happily ever after!

[rennerator]

Oh My!!!!! OH MY, WOW!!!! Like, WOOW WOWOOWOWOWOWOWOW I am in TEARS HERE!!!!! Not only is the ART already SOOO F* GORGEOUS and EMOTIONAL!! The fic GOES HARD on the feelings TOO!!!! THIS IS SOOOO SOOOO F* BEAUTIFUL!!!!! S2 I LOVE THIS SOOO SOOO MUCH!!!!! AWWWWWW DADSTIEL ALL THE WAY!!!!! :D You GO, Jack!!!! They ARE Father and Child, INDEED!!!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE This is SOOO LOVELY, SOOOO MAGNIFICENT!!!!! Seriously, WOW WOW WOOOOW!!! Also, that last part there, MARVELOUS!!! Cas being THERE for JACK, to comfort his CHILD!!!! I LOVE THIS SOOO VERY MUCH!!!! Thank YOU!!!! Thank YOU SO SOOO MUCH for this!!! You are AMAZING!!!! :) <3

SUPTOBER 23 // DAY 4

NIMBUS

My name is Ja-

"You can't be serious? He's a kid! We can't push the kid into the Empty and let him blow up himself!!"

"Dean-"

"No! End of discussion!"

My name is Jack-

"I need you to drop the deal with Castiel."

"And I should listen to you why?"

"I can help you go back to sleep, I'll make it dark again together with The Darkness and Death. Endless silence, just drop the deal".

My name is Jack Kli-

"You have to be kidding me?! You trick me into the Empty and send the kid? How desperate are you folks?"

"There will be no more God."

"Ohhhh let's see how this goes."

My name is Jack Kline.

It's dark. I'm not afraid. I never was. A sacrifice for the greater good.

"I have no idea how to put him together Mikey, he's literally Everywhere! And we can't put him together without a soul!"

"He'll have a soul, trust me."

"That worked well last time.."

"Gabriel!"

"Yeah yeah, you don't have to use the big brother voice."

My name is Jack Winchester.

My mother is Kelly Kline. My father is Castiel. I have a soul. I want to go back.

Please, let me get back to them.

"Patience kiddo, you're still stuck in the Nimbus. You'll hurt yourself when you rush things."

My name is Jack Winchester.

And I want to go back, NOW.

"NO NO NO! Don't slip away! Jack! DAMNIT! MICHAEL!"

///

His landing was hard, broken bones in his body, everything was too loud, the world was dark. He wanted to scream but nothing came out his mouth but the high pitched scream of his true form.

And then he felt light and the world came back to him, warm hands were touching his face, the familiar warmth of Castiels grace filled him. Blue. He blinked, once, twice. His ears were ringing but sound came back and he cried tears and tears of joy to be back and his father hugged him tight.

"Welcome home, son."

ENDVERSE AU Masterpost

[sunbleachedf4wn]

need endverse dean to do unspeakable unholy things to early seasons sammy.

[godsprettiestprincess]

I know it’s shorthand I Know but it always makes me laugh when ppl put Endverse Lucifer in there with the rest of Sam’s autonomy issues. Like Casifer? Yes. Hallucifer? Of course. S12-13 Lucifer? It’s in the text!

But Endverse Lucifer??? That’s the one time Sam chose that! He. He literally said yes guys that’s the point of the episode!!

[valleydean]

The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Link to fic Link to art

Brought to you by @deancashorrorfest

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

[quietwings-fics]

all ash, now

(Other Links: Dreamwidth - FFNet - Pillowfort - SquidgeWorld)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warnings: N/A Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Crowstiel Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Angst, End of the World, Hugs, Sad Wordcount: 500 Summary:

The world ends. Castiel is the only angel left, and he's hardly even that. Crowley is the only demon who survived Lucifer, and he won't be that much longer.

Notes:

jackelope-scope asked: 18 + Castiel/Crowley for the hug prompts

"High again, are we? It's becoming a pattern." Castiel is on the floor. He can't remember exactly when he got there, but he knows how. He'll always know how. There's nowhere else to end up when your wings get cut. He blinks his eyes open blearily. There's a familiar face staring down at him, and his expression doesn't hold pity or disgust. Only the terrible aching empathy of being the last left.

"Come to ask us to hide you?" Castiel asks, as though he has the power to make that decision. Dean would shoot Crowley where he stands. Crowley's mouth twists into something that could have been a smile, once. It's all ash, now.

"Do I need a reason to visit my favorite angel?" Castiel should probably get off the floor. He's naked, and he's cold, and he was human long enough to love and lose hot showers. Then again, whenever Crowley usually shows up while Castiel is nude, they end up fucking. He stays longer when they have sex. He doesn't taunt Castiel for the way he clings.

"Compared against who? Lucifer?" Crowley stiffens at the name. Castiel doesn't. So goes their mutual senses of self-preservation. "You shouldn't call me that, anyway."

"You are what you are," Crowley argues.

"Until I'm not," Castiel says back, "and I'm not."

He waits for Crowley to snipe at him again. It never comes. Something splintered and horrible as rotting driftwood lodges in Castiel's gut. "Why are you here, Crowley?"

“Like I said, isn’t it enough to want to see you?” Castiel stands up to get a better look at him. He's more well kempt than anyone else in the Apocalypse. All that lingering hellfire in his body has to be good for something other than running away, and Crowley uses it to iron his suits. "You are the one who leaves the devil's trap open." In the very first end days, that invitation had been open to any demon who dared. Now, Crowley's the only one who it would keep out.

Castiel is still alive for the sake of loyalty. Crowley is still alive for- He might call it cleverness. Castiel would call him a coward and mean it as a compliment. Most of the people who made it past the end of the world were cowards. The brave ones all got themselves killed.

He’d never want Crowley to be brave or loyal.

"Don't go." It's a useless thing to ask of him, and so Castiel says it with very little hope. Crowley was never an angel. He's hardly even been a friend. He has been a constant, and even, at times, someone who makes the dying world a little brighter. Now, in his eyes, Castiel sees the same fear he's seen in bitten men before they're shot to spare them the virus.

Crowley says nothing but wraps him in a hug so hard it bruises Castiel's ribs. Castiel holds tight, until he can't, and he doesn't.

He never sees Crowley again.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[dailymichifer]

The Final Sin by KassandraScarlett

Complete | Words: 6474 | Rating: T | Warning: Major character death (not Michael or Lucifer)

Lucifer/Apocalypseverse Michael (Supernatural) (background: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, mentioned)

Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Light Angst, Angels, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Lucifer Possessing Sam Winchester, Apocalypseverse Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s13e23 Let the Good Times Roll, Female Sam Winchester, Endverse Sam Winchester - Freeform

Summary: The wound from the two-pronged spear rendered Michael weak. He needed to find a way to heal himself. Maybe if he created a rift to the world where that girl and her spear had come from... Well, hopefully he wouldn't end up in some other world by accident.

Or:

Michael doesn't leave Dean's vessel. Instead, he travels between universes to find a way to heal himself and runs into the Endverse instead.