#endverse!destiel

[ghosthan]

exploring love languages in the endverse (the love language is shotgunning)

 (sketch under cut)

[backroadboy]

At The End Of All Things

"You know, Dean, I–" Cas pauses and Dean can see his jaw clenching and unclenching, his brows furrow. "I don't want you to feel like you have to carry this all on your own, because you don't. We're all stuck here. We are all hopeless and scared, and– I know it isn't much, but...I am glad it's us." "Yeah, I– me too, man. Me too." And who was Dean to want more than this? - or - The world is ending, and there is nothing Dean can do about it, but he isn't alone. He has Cas. They have each other. Dean just needs a little time. Because this story is, above all else, about hope.

Read more on Ao3

Here is a snippet:

Dean tries to ignore the disappointment that leaks into his bones when he arrives and realizes that the lights in the cabin aren't on yet. He shakes his head and laughs at himself. This is ridiculous. Dean closes the door behind him and turns on the lights. It takes a few moments before the lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling turns on with a faint click. 

The place is decent. Most of the cabins have a similar layout, a big living room with a small kitchenette situation, a bathroom, and a bedroom or in Dean's case two bedrooms. They had managed to make themselves at home the best they could with what they had, and living with Cas turned out to be much easier than Dean had thought. In the shelter of these walls, it almost felt like they were living a normal life. Cas and Dean had spent hours on their shared sofa, planning and researching ways to stop the end of the world, but they'd also spent an equal amount of hours just talking, drinking, and simply... being. Dean justified their little roommate situation as something necessary for them to make progress in their big plan to get Sam back. So sharing a cabin with Cas had been, above all, a matter of convenience. 

"Are you going to stand there all night?"

Dean jumps slightly at the sound of the voice he'd recognize anywhere. "Jesus- fuck, Cas!" He puffs before turning around. Dean catches sight of his friend's silhouette – all broad shoulders and messy hair – in a corner of the room. 

"You look terrible." 

Dean can hear the amusement in Cas' voice as he pushes himself from where he is currently leaning against the doorframe of their bathroom. He walks a few steps in Dean's direction, and Dean moves without thinking, meeting Cas halfway, taking him in a tight embrace. Cas returns the hug without hesitation, and Dean feels his body relax against strong and comforting arms. On instinct, he buries his face in the crook of Cas' neck and takes a deep breath. Cas smells like cedar wood and smoke, he smells like soil and sweat.

Dean is finally home. 

"Good to see you too, man. You look–" Dean begins, but stops when he gets a better look at Cas under the artificial light of their kitchen. He glimpses at the dried blood on Cas' temple, then the black eye, and his busted bottom lip. 

He grabs Cas' shoulders, maybe a little too roughly, "Woah, what the fuck happened to you, man?" 

Cas just shrugs, eyes tired, but a soft smile adorning his lips. He loosens his grip around Dean's shoulders and takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides. The loss makes Dean frown, his hands move up on their own accord. It takes him a second to realize what he is doing, but when he does, Dean relaxes his face and crosses his hands over his chest. He leans against the kitchen counter behind him instead. 

Smooth, Winchester. Real smooth.

[lesbiansupernatural]

Some endverse!destiel I forgot to post on here

[bloodydeanwinchester]

💙Endverse!Destiel💚

For @thigholstercas’s birthday celebration!!

[muse-of-phantasy]

Funny that Endverse!Dean couldn't recognize his younger 2009 self and had to use every method under the sun to confirm what/who he was but the moment Enderverse!Cas saw 2009 Dean, he just knew. He could differentiate between both Deans with one simple glance. If that isn't love then idk what is.

[shelikestv]

"Maybe you should have left," Dean says. 

He isn't sure if it’s an accusation. Maybe grief? No, fuck, it's always that.

Cas laughs anyway, lungs scratchy. Naked limbs and smoke wrap them hard and tight and it's these moments that feel the least secure.

Dean can be an asshole, but somehow Cas is even more of one–he huffs, shaking his head and says it:

"I know I should have."

There’s a before and after. 

Dean has never loved like this, never lost like this–before Cas, after Cas.

The night sky is smudged through the window, sun set but light not fully gone. Dean's mind feels the same--desaturated. He wants to leave, but the warm weight by his side keeps him breathing, heart beating. An angry, needy comfort. 

The overhead fan turns too slow, barely scooping air and Cas bites his lip.

"C'mere," he says, and pulls Dean in.

Nobody is the strong one here, but if there were it'd be Cas. Yeah, he might be fucked on pills, but there are places crumbling inside Dean that only he can reach. 

His hands are soft, far away.

Not long ago, he’d always stood too close, too much–before Dean, after Dean. 

The air is charcoal-ringed, moments warping, forging.

"Don't say it," Cas tenses, clamping tight lips around a cigarette and shuffling cold toes into the blanket.

But Dean’s an asshole, too: 

“You stayed, anyway.”

On the outside it looks like gratitude. They both know better. Cas’s skin has spots to prove it–Dean grips too tight inside the bedroom, and he's constantly bruising him. He never says anything, but he thinks he might need evidence to breathe. Without it Cas is too slippery. Without it, he'd fade away.

Cas doesn't complain. Dean thinks he needs it, too.

The stars in the window are starting to poke through the sky one at a time. Camp Chitaqua isn't even quiet really, but Cas is, exhaling rings of smoke and staring like he's paralyzed.

Dean crawls on top of him, diving deep. He’s kissing him hard and biting, hard and scared. 

It’s a sinking ship. 

It shouldn’t matter. 

But when he opens his eyes, for a moment, anyway, Cas is back, gaze lazarus blue. 

“Don’t leave,” Dean says, even though it’s him who feels halfway out the door.

Their skin shines and for a minute they’re the moonlight. 

Cas doesn’t break eye contact.

“I don’t want to.”

It hurts. Loss on loss, world getting smaller. 

Cas stayed. Dean needed it. Sometimes Dean wished he would have gone. 

The truth is, though, Cas never says it. 

He should have left. 

He should know it. 

He never says it.

“Did you ever want to? Would you?” he asks, weight on Cas’s stomach, legs straddled, feeling small and lost and warm.

Cas twines their fingers. The camp is descending into darkness. They’re both cracked and descending, too. 

Before and after. He’s not sure he’d rewind time, even if he could. There’s so little of it left, and it scares him how possessive he’s become of every second. 

He’s gripping too tight again. 

Cas kisses him softly, gently back. 

Sweaty foreheads connect. Cas is lucid, serious, yet soft in his jaded kind of way. Their words get lost in shadows, but this one sticks. 

One word. 

Always the same.

It’s not a love confession even if it’s meant to be. It might hurt more. It might be deeper, better. It’s a wound and it’s a promise:

“Never.”

[huggybearsunshine]

Another Love

[One-shot ficlet] Sam asks Dean about the endverse.

“You said a lot about you, bit about me,” Sam raised a careful brow, “but…”

“What?” Dean already looked a little more guarded as if he knew what was coming.

“Where was Cas?” Sam’s voice was gentle, and he wore an expression to match.

“Ah,” Dean looked away and took a swig of his beer, “Cas was… Cas was there.”

“I was?” Cas’ voice spoke from over Dean’s shoulder and the hunter’s eyes fell shut.

“Yeah…” Dean sighed, “Hey, Cas.”

“You never said…” then it seemed to hit him, “Never change,” he recalled as he took a seat with them at the table.

“Yeah… guess we’re doing this,” Dean rubbed his face with one hand and pulled a flask out of his jacket pocket, “I’m gonna need something stronger.”

“I was… I wasn’t myself, was I?” Cas assessed softly.

“No, but I was…” self-hatred dripped from Dean’s reply, and Sam regretted bringing it up.

It had been so many years, but he’d always wondered, and Dean finally seemed somewhat willing to open up.

“What happened?” Cas laid a hand upon Dean’s own and the hunter stared down at it with a look of regret.

“You, uh…” he took a swig of the flask with his free hand and then set it in front of Cas like an offering.

The Angel removed his hand to take it and accepted a sip if for no other reason than to comfort the man who offered.

“You were human,” Dean began, “And I think you were really sad,” he leaned back, looking away from the two at the table with him, “You didn’t show it, but I could tell…”

“Because of Sam?” Cas asked softly, having heard previously about the other hunter’s possession.

“Maybe, but seemed like it was mostly ‘cause of me,” Dean took another swig, “I think we were… I think they were together… the other us…”

Cas’ posture stiffened and Sam’s brows rose as he listened, mostly forgotten by the other two.

“I- he… the other me… I think he kept it a secret and I think it made you feel…” Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “You were always high or having meaningless sex…” a dark chuckle escaped him, “Think you took a page out of my book with the self-medicating.”

“Dean-“ Sam started, feeling responsible for opening what was clearly a still-healing wound.

“Let me…” he stopped him, “Just… let me get this out.”

Sam silenced himself again, sinking smaller in his corner.

“By the time I got there… He was ready to sacrifice you,” Dean met his eye for the first time since he began his story, “And you were going to let him.”

“Dean, that was not you,” Cas reached across to grip his shoulder, eyes begging for his words to stick, “Zachariah wanted to give you every reason to need to change that fate. You must know his fabrication was just that.”

“Yeah, but he did get some things right,” Dean’s voice wavered, “Didn’t he…”

Cas swallowed, hand loosening and sliding down his arm absentmindedly.

“Yes,” Cas finally affirmed, “I suppose he did.”

Sam’s eyes darted between them, breath held in fear of intruding on something he wasn’t entirely sure he followed, but he had a pretty strong feeling of what was being said between the pair.

“That was the worst case scenario,” Cas continued, “It doesn’t mean it’s what would have come to pass if…” the Angel trailed off as he sought out the right words to say, “If that had…” he looked terrified of his own thoughts, trying unsuccessfully to keep in what he desperately wanted to express, “That is not the man you became, Dean.”

“Nothing from that world actually happened, but I was always afraid I’d… ruin you…” Dean took another large gulp, “All the Angels said it! The moment you touched me in hell, you were lost! That I ruined you!”

“To them, you did,” Cas was now the one gazing down at the table and lost in his own thoughts, “But that is not my opinion of what happened.”

“It’s not?” Dean’s voice crackled under the strain of keeping his emotions from surfacing.

“No,” Cas’ lips tilted upward fondly, “You saved me, Dean… I was nothing of my own before you.”

“When your powers started weakening, I thought…” he shook his head, eyes falling onto the hand that still clung to his arm, “I was worried it was happening again.”

“No, Dean,” Cas sighed sadly, “You are not the one at fault for that.”

He leaned back and Dean found himself missing the warmth of his hand as it slid off.

“The Angels I killed weakened the Host- Heaven…” Cas explained, “I am suffering the consequences of my own actions, not yours…”

“So, do you-?” Sam hesitated, but powered through after a moment of doubt, “Do you two,” he paused again, unsure of how else to ask, “love each other?”

The other two men’s eyes met across the table, equally challenging and questioning.

Unsurprisingly, though, Cas was the first to answer.

“Yes,” he replied simply, holding Dean’s gaze, “I think you know I do.”

The hunter’s eyes broke under the attention, cutting upward toward the ceiling.

“What if it’s a mistake?” Dean avoided answering directly, and Cas’ fondness returned.

“I have made a lot of mistakes,” the Angel nodded, “But loving you was never one of them.”

That statement was apparently the line where Dean met his breaking point, as he went completely silent, just staring at Cas in shock.

Too many years of keeping it in made it near impossible in that moment to make even the smallest semblance of a sound.

“Dean,” Sam finally decided to butt in, “Now would be the time to say something.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes darted between them, “Fuck…”

“Not what I meant,” Sam covered his face, now red with second-hand embarrassment, “I’m going to give you guys the room…”

He clapped Dean on the back as he passed.

“Don’t be dumb,” he added quietly before disappearing through the doorway, leaving the room in yet another thick silence.

“Dean,” Cas took pity and broke it for him, “It’s okay if you don’t feel what they did… I’m very happy with our life as it is.”

“Are you really?” the hunter finally managed, and the exhaustion in his voice was heartbreaking.

Cas took a deep breath, “Dean…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Cas, I stopped looking for women a long time ago…”

“I had noticed a… dip in your social, um… proclivities, yes,” Cas took the flask and downed a bit too much of it, “Sorry…”

Dean’s eyes lit in amusement, draining some of the discomfort from his posture.

“You never wondered why?” he furthered, catching Cas’ wandering eyes.

“I assumed you were busy and stressed,” the Angel floundered, “Also I know human men can have trouble sexually as they age-”

“Hey, that is not the reason!” he was quick to defend.

“Right, of course,” Cas back-tracked.

“Like, not at all, okay?”

“Absolutely,” a smile began to pull at the Angel’s lips again, “Understood.”

“I… I think I just had everything I needed already…” he glanced down before working his nerve back up again, “You know what i mean?”

Cas opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as uncertainty flooded his features, but Dean could only think how beautiful he looked when he was flustered.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… yes,” the hunter added to further his point.

“Yes?“ Cas sought clarity.

“Yes, Cas,” he looked pointedly at him, waiting for the Angel to catch up.

“Oh,” his entire face fell flat.

“I’ve tried not to, believe me,” Dean furthered, “For your sake… but I’m just so fucking stubborn, and no matter how hard I tried to want someone else… It was always just you.”

“You think being without you is in my best interest,” Cas gave him a tilted look, reminding him of that first conversation in the barn all those years ago.

The hunter hesitated before chancing a glance, “I mean, it is, isn’t it?”

“That is not my opinion, no,” the Angel shook his head, “Dean, I know you think that loving you is a curse, but I need you to understand that, to me, it has only been a gift.”

Dean’s brows knit as he tried to make sense of how that could ever be possible.

“Whether you return those feelings or not,” Cas placed his hand back atop the other man’s own, “It will always be a gift.”

Dean was silent for a moment, letting the words sink deeper into him, hoping that if he buried them deeply enough, no one could ever take them away.

Not even himself.

Cas allowed him this time, until the hunter stood and approached him, never releasing the hand he had given him.

With a tug, Dean pulled him to his feet and Cas was close enough to count the freckles on his cheeks, see where his eyelashes went from light to dark, and smell the whiskey on his breath.

And his shook on an inhale before Dean’s lips met his own soft but assured.

All the Angel heard was his own gasp before everything else faded away. Only coming to in any real way when Dean’s hand slipped onto the curve of his neck and into his hairline.

A noise escaped him that he had no name for, but Dean seemed more than happy to elicit.

“Dean,” he warned as the light bulb in the fixture above them grew brighter and louder.

He pulled away and it returned to normal as a hand- his own, he noted- reached up to touch his lips.

Dean looked beside himself when the Angel’s focus returned to him, chest heavy with each breath.

“Are you alright?” Cas asked in fear that he had ruined the moment.

“Not even a little,” he answered on a laugh, “The lightbulbs aren’t going to be either.”

He pushed him into the wall behind him and the warmth of his mouth trailed down Cas’ neck before the entire bunker went dark.

“Powers draining, my ass,” Dean chuckled in his ear.

“I didn’t know I could still do that,” he pressed the words into Dean’s lips.

———————

@destiel-wings @destieliscanon5nov

[spn-lesbian]

endverse!cas and endverse!dean were fucking I don’t make the rules

[charlieshandmaiiden]

The End.

Hi Allie @thigholstercas!!!!!!!! Happy birthday!!!!!! Hope you have an AMAZING day today;))

This is a destiel poem! You can say that they're snuggling, on Monday even. And of course endverse!!!! I'm a sucker for endverse!destiel😌

Transcript is under the cut!!!!!!!

The end is here.

“There’s nothing left to live for.”

You may say.

And you’ll be wrong,

So wrong.

Because this someone,

Lying next to me,

Is more important than the world

To me can ever be.

The skies may crash and burn, the earth may hide beneath the sea.

Oh my...

It doesn’t matter

As long as there’s Dean and I.

It’s early morning,

No sound can be heard,

Except for steady breathing

And a familiar beating of the heart.

How can I sleep and know,

That with the sunrise

We must part. (Though not for long, but still it’s hard)

So here I lie and treasure

The warmth and softness of the lover’s touch –

The greatest pleasure...

[casboobs]

endverse!cas - the end has no end

posted a long version for endverse!destiel on youtube

for @abidraws follower celebration

prompt: endverse

[ghosthan]

things are pretty rough at the end of the world

[itwasnightwhenyoudied]

A NOT-COMPLETELY-HEARTBREAKING ENDVERSE!DESTIEL FIC

.

EXCERPT:

Before all this end of the world fuckery, and not that long after the Angel of Thursday soared in on awesome black wings—jackknifing into Dean's jacked-up life—Dean had been so goddamn grateful at realising he had his first real friend, that his lusting over dark hair and the bluest of all baby-blues had just been an inconvenient itch, one he'd simply decided not to scratch. He had a good thing going with Cas. Didn’t want to jeopardize it. So, a mostly closeted but wholly bisexual Dean had put on a plastic jolly-joker mask and ignored the whole damn thing like a seasoned winner. After all, he was the master of pulling on his own puppet-strings to twist his mind and smash his dreams.

But that shit just wouldn't go away.

Instead, it grew. Like bluegrass down by the creek, at the edge of slow-moving water where it was muggy and warm and the mud was soft. Until that sapling became more than just lust. The hardy weed was a constant ache of want growing in Dean's gut, a burning bush that Cas smote with his storm-blue light. And those flames, they caught and licked into Dean's every thought and move. Every decision of every day had an agender that spread so fast into a raging forest wildfire of protectiveness and need and—and something he'd told himself he'd never feel again after Cassie.

Dean knew he had to stop it. Needed to pull all the weapons he owned on its ass, take it down to the boneyard, battered and bound, and kill it. Dead fucking dead. He needed to bury the corpse, salt and goddamn burn it and leave the charcoal-grey ashes to disintegrate into the dirt and the nothingness, leaving only a burned-out hole; the one that now lived in his chest. Because Dean didn't know what to do with such emotion—and he sure as sin didn't deserve a return on it.

But here? Now? It was the sky that was cold and grey and cracking at its seams.

Walking side-by-side with death

The devil mocks their every step

Yeah, like some scene from the tale Led Zeppelin told in No Quarter, it was all about to ignite, to burn down and cave in on the few sorry Joes left in this permanent Halloween party. And Cas? Dean had been treating him like one of the goddamn Croats, keeping him at more than arm's length. Except when his expertise was needed. And that was—it wasn't right. Not like it ever had been but especially not now. At The End. Not when there was nothing left but a reality of fucked up images dreamed up in the mind of a drug-addled rockstar.

Dean should at least try and make amends. Hell, even just take a bunch of stolen flowers and a forced smile to the gravestone that was his and Cas' friendship. Not like he expected to be forgiven, though, let alone be treated like fucking royalty or some shit by Cas. Like he'd just welcome Dean back with loyal, open arms and they'd kiss and make-up as long-lost lovers do. Shit. But—but even if Dean just thanked the guy, at the very fucking least. 

Some things never really die. 

It was the literal end of the God-damned world and Dean was still hiding from himself.

Here we are. 

Yeah, and Dean Winchester was still a fucking coward.

So it goes.

.

(still finding things to repost from when my main was my spn blog. originally written for jackie @winchester-reload <3)

CLICK HERE TO READ IT ON AO3

[lildoodlenoodle]

Midwestern Gothic SPN: Camp Chautauqua

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

There is an Endverse reference in 15x17!!!

Chuck: Sam and Dean, they're using Jack to destroy us. Amara: No, but… but Dean can't hurt me. Chuck: No, but he can lie to you. He could send you into the meat grinder with a wink and a smile.

Dean, to 2014!Dean (04x15): You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too?

[couragehopelovefaith]

Suddenly started to think how complicated Dean’s feelings considering Cas and himself must have been in 5x04. On the other hand he seemed happy that endverse-Cas was more relaxed, but he was also worried about him being “generally stoned” and about how losing such a central part of himself affected him, while acknowledging that this wasn’t Cas he had known. In addition he appeared to be a little jealous and intrigued by different kind of bond and trust between this Cas and endverse-version of himself. But the most interesting and clear part of all of this is that he was terrified by the fact that in this future - no matter what the circumstances were - he would turn into someone so uncaring and ready to betray people that he loved. The fact that he put Cas into different, special category (Cas too?) makes my heart beam every time. And his obvious relief and gratitude, when he met Cas again in his own time... I just have a lot of feels about this episode, okay?