a classic. simple yet incredibly cool & iconic design. founder of the GAR meme and still its strongest example.
rude and cynical yet idealistic beyond measure, or rather rude & cynical because he’s so idealistic but knows consciously that it’s not possible to actually save everyone. somehow both a person and a concept and having such a hard time reconciling being an avatar of blind and absolute justice with his own much smaller wish to just never see people cry again he’s willing to straight up erase himself from existence if that’s what it takes to stop having to be a concept. so cool and badass it makes dudebros set aside their own masculinity to admire him more yet also a complete loser and happiest when cooking dinner for a few close friends & family members. forget about being executed for crimes he didn’t commit, the way he got shafted in extella is the largest injustice he’s ever faced. 50/10
ah. that motherfucker. what a tool. honestly a really good character but somehow never really got to shine at full potential as the world’s first hero until ch babylon because the mainseries games needed him as a villain and CCC was weirdly biased towards emiya in a way that made him get overshadowed in thematic power by someone who’s not even in his route. loves the world and humanity but is disgusted with its current state and drunkenly decides to practise some light genocide in fsn to cull the weak and bring the world to its former glory because he is a grumbling old man complaining about kids these days. probably hasn’t been sober once in the entire 10 years since he first raided kirei’s wine supply. patron deity of following your desires and being true to your nature because as the first hero he is the ultimate representation of how humans have always had the same hopes and fears and desires and doubts. humanity’s largest ally despite everything, two/thirds divine and created to prevent humans from overthrowing gods, but ultimately the reason why humanity was able to separate itself from the gods and live for itself, as humans. a god damn tsundere if i’ve ever seen one. 30/10 theory 8/10 execution
clawed gauntlets 8/10
all i know about him is that his master really wants to fuck a horse
a good egg no matter how much he tries to pretend otherwise. not the “real” robin hood but rather one of many people who took up the title when the rumors of a vigilante thief started spreading, and simply the poor sod who happened to match the legends the best and got made into the one singular robin hood as a result. has no problem stooping to the dirtiest tricks to win but is also very conscious about the dirtyness of it and will get mad when people who work hard and fair are ridiculed. doesn’t think his decision to become a robin hood was a bad one but still kind of longs for the nobleness of a knight’s life over his own life in the shadows. tries to convince everyone he’s a bad guy and maintains a flippant attitude but has a strong sense of justice and starts fussing over people he likes very quickly. 10/10
a FRIEND. someone who literally ends conflicts even if it costs him his life. a symbol of peace. the fucking mvp of camelot. devotion to the people so immense it can divide the land and rips his body apart. a gentle and cheerful older brother figure who’s great with kids. 8/10
DAI ROKUTEN MAOU 9/10
presents a perfect friendly hero persona as a duty but is actually very cold and bitter and wants to be left alone. gifted with all the love and material wealth he could possibly want from birth yet unable to appreciate it like he consciously knows he should, because he never asked for any of it. hates karna’s guts because karna is so perfectly selfless in a way arjuna knows he should be in order to be a good person deserving of his fortune, but isn’t. also hates people who try to get to know him for risk of them finding out he is not as good a person as he feels he should be. good character but i feel im gonna remain weirdly ambivalent to him until i roll him. 7/10
all the complaints about his design have already been beaten to death but honestly I love that it doesn’t make any fucking sense because he doesn’t make any fucking sense himself. he’s several paradoxes in a trenchcoat held together with kintsugi that should barely even exist. super ultra extreme edgy when on duty as the counter force’s killing machine but outside that he’s mostly just tired and calmly waits for the day where he’ll forget everything including himself so that he can finally Stop. fully convinced that when he forgets his entire past all that’ll be left of him is the fact he’s good at killing but still thinks that’ll be better than having to continue being a person, and when the time is actually here he’s almost more shirou-like than vanilla archer and straight up cries at the prospect of getting to help people. 15/10
wasnt he like a super huge fan of pigeons historically
ANOTHER GOOD EGG made a reputation for himself as bandit king at age 12 out of necessity and while he initially enjoyed picking fights and stirring up shit everywhere he quickly turned around and tried to avoid conflict wherever possible. his friendly face actually let him be somewhat accepted by the townspeople but despite this he was forever branded as an outlaw and eventually met his end through a sneak attack from his former friend. cheeky and tends to flaunt his reputation and marksmanship but it’s mostly because that’s all he gets to be to others anyway and just rolls with it, and he actually hates the name he’s made for himself. constantly apologises for both the bandit persona he puts on and his actual far more quiet personality. 10/10
please stop praying for my grandpa he is becoming too powerful. stylish beyond belief. swings around a fuckoff huge gun coffin like it’s nothing then complains about his hips. the archetypal evil mastermind yet also a subversion of it, because rather than calculating how to destroy the world because he’s evil, he calculated how to destroy the world and then had no choice but to become evil if he wanted to test if he was right. I’m so glad fran has a father now. 9/10
big titty curly haired anime blonde is just a really good trope and her swimsuits are super cute 8/10
wouldnt it be nice if they stopped putting you two in those bunny suits tho
FRIEND. special mention because he’s one of the only barechested dudes in the game who actually has nipples
WOULDNT IT BE NICE IF THEY ACTUALLY GAVE YOU A PERSONALITY WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF THEY WOULD FUCKING DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR GENUINELY INTERESTING CHARACTER CONCEPT WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF THEY EXPLORED YOU AS THE CREEPY KILLER CHILD SIDE OF ILLYA THAT NEVER GOT TO SEE THE LIGHT IN PRILLYA BECAUSE ILLYA NEVER SAW THE KIND OF CONFLICT THAT WOULD MAKE HER SHOW THIS SIDE AND WHO IN THIS TIMELINE ALSO ONLY APPEARS BECAUSE OF CONFLICT AND WANTS TO PROVE SHE HAS A PLACE IN THE PEACEFUL LIFE SHE ISN’T NEEDED IN AND FEELS CHEATED OUT OF WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF THEY DID SOMETHING WITH THE FACT THAT YOU SHOULDN’T EVEN EXIST BUT GRABBED HOLD OF A HEROIC SPIRIT WHO CAN MAKE THINGS THAT DON’T EXIST APPEAR ANYWAY AND USED IT TO MAKE YOURSELF HEARD AND DEMAND A PLACE IN THE HAPPINESS THAT HAS NO USE FOR YOU WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF THEY REALISED THE AMOUNT OF PARALLELS THEY COULD BE MAKING WITH AN ILLYA WHO TAKES AFTER ARCHER LOCKED IN DEADLY RIVALRY WITH AN ILLYA WHO TAKES FAR MORE AFTER SHIROU WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF THEY DID ALL THAT INSTEAD OF HAVING YOU SEXUALLY ASSAULT OTHER CHILDREN ON SCREEN FOR THE FANSERVICE BECAUSE YOU’RE ~EVIL~ WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF PRILLYA EVENT AT LEAST TRIED TO MAKE AMENDS FOR YOUR HORRIBLE TREATMENT IN THE ACTUAL SHOW WOULDN’T IT B
because go go is all about being a goddamn baller I honestly imagine it to have a mv that’s like each of the boys in expensive ass armani suits, lounging around some penthouse in new york with hundred dollar bills fucking everywhere. jimin’s part is a slow aerial zoom on him laying barechested on a bed with satin sheets, covered in hunnets. hoseok’s part is him laying in a free-standing marble bath full of hunnets with one of those cash guns that spit out the notes. jeongguk’s part is him slowly grooving by the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, looking out at the cityscape. yoongi’s part is him sitting in a black leather chair behind a giant desk lined by pistols and ak’s, a glass of whiskey in his hand. seokjin’s part is in a purple-lit room with half-naked girls spread out across the leather lounges. namjoon’s part is in the garage, crouched between a black lamborghini and black ferrari, diamond rings on all his fingers. taehyung’s part is him drunkenly dancing by the poolside with a martini. bighit please sign me.
Dean tosses his shovel down and sits on the edge of the grave. “God, I’m too old for this, Cas.”
The angel flicks a look at him as he finishes digging up the corpse. “I’m much older than you,” he points out, reaching a hand up. Dean grunts as he tugs the other man out of the hole and Cas collapses next to him.
“Then we’re too old for it,” Dean says and Cas smiles, hiding it in his chest as he busies himself brushing away dirt.
It’s not gonna do a damn bit of good. They’re both a mess and will be until they’ve showered.
The hunt was an easy one. Nothing Cas couldn’t handle on his own, but Dean had been bored between cases and he jumped at the chance to see Cas.
Sam was off in Florida with Alicia and Max killing a nest of ghouls, so Dean packed up Baby and drove twelve hours for a simple salt and burn. He’d worried, for about five minutes, that Cas would be offended by Dean shoving his way into the angel’s case—but Cas had seemed more pleased to see Dean than anything, and as they worked the case, chasing down the information and narrowing down who the vengeful spirit was, it was comfortable.
It was the same kind of comfortable that he only felt with Sam, but this had a subtle tension to it that his relationship with Sam didn’t. Dean didn’t bother to dissect it. He knew that the tension belonged to Cas, that it was a low thrum of awareness that he always feels only with Castiel.
“We should retire,” Dean says, nudging Cas with his shoulder, as they watch the body burn.
Cas smiles, small and secretive, and shakes his head a little as he follows Dean back to Baby.
They go to a diner, still dirty, and Cas brushes at his coat when they get a few raised eyebrows. Dean smiles and tugs him by the elbow to a small booth. It’s like every other diner he’s ever been in, and he frowns a little. He should have thought of that. “Why don’t we ever go anywhere nice?” Dean asks. “There was a little Italian place. We could—” “Dean,” Cas interrupts, a confused frown on his face. “I like this. They have excellent coffee and cheeseburgers. And three types of pie.” Dean stares at him for a moment, and then gives a small laugh. “Ok, Cas.” They order coffee and a cheeseburger for Dean, and Castiel amuses himself stealing his french fries. “Where you headed next, Cas?” “There’s a selkie in Washington I thought I might look into,” he says, shifting in his seat. The bench squeaks and Dean frowns. “That’s the fourth case you’ve taken since we got back, man. You could take a break.” Cas looks away. “And do what, Dean? If we ‘retire’, what would I do? Where would I go?” “What do you want to do?” Dean asks. Cas goes still, staring at him. So much flickers across his face, too fast for Dean to process, and then he blinks and shakes his head. “What I can’t have,” he says simply.
They get a hotel, because it’s late enough that Dean doesn’t want to drive and because Castiel rarely tells him no. It’s utterly ordinary except that the two queens is one king. Dean gives a little hiccup of hesitation when he sees that, throws a vaguely worried look at Cas who huffs and pushes him into the room. “I don’t sleep, remember?” Of course he does. And it’s not as if they’ve never done this, shared space. There was purgatory, when Cas would press close to warm him, and he could almost feel the angel’s wings. There were nights in the bunker, too many now to count, with Cas stretched across his bed while he sleeps and Castiel watched Netflix. There were the nights during the apocalypse, when Cas stood slightly too close and he wanted to tell him to step away as much as he wanted to pull him even closer and bury himself in the strength and promise there. The thing is,all of this feels familiar—Cas working with him, eating together, quietly bickering over the music in the car. Even the way Cas pushes past him and tugs off his tie with an air of relief. All of it feels like something they’ve done before. But more than that, it feels like something he could do again, something he could do every day. They watch a movie. Dean’s lost in thought and tells Castiel to pick something before he ducks into the shower, trying to ignore the fact that his best friend is sitting in the other room, skin pink from the water’s heat, barechested and barefoot, in a pair of Dean’s sleep pants that sit too low on his hips—hips that are, ridiculously, fascinating. Dean doesn’t know what movie is playing across the screen. He only knows that Cas is only an inch away from him, warm and inviting. “If you could have it,” Dean says suddenly, “what would it be?” Cas lets out a long slow breath, but he doesn’t pretend he doesn’t understand the question. “A house, two stories. With a room for Claire and a library for Sam. A garage, and a cat.” His lips up in a smile. “A garden, and a big kitchen with a coffee machine I can actually use.” Dean laughs a little at that. Castiel’s head falls back, and a smile turns up his lips, dreamy and sweet. “What else?” Dean asks. His chest feels tight, achy. Cas rolls his head, looks at him, and his gaze is soft warm. “Hunting, of course. But only occasionally. Only when we—I—want to. The rest of the time, teaching. Writing what we—I—know, to share with hunters. Farmer’s markets on Saturdays and sleeping in on Sunday, and—I just want to be .” Dean licks his lips. He could let it go. Could drink his beer and turn back to the TV, to the movie they aren’t even pretending to watch anymore, could let all of this go. But— “You said we. ” Castiel’s eyes are very wide and his breath catches in his throat. “Dean, I—” He’s not sure who moves first. He’ll never be sure, after, who moves first. All he knows is that they’ve been moving toward this for so long, he can’t remember when they weren’t, and when they crash together, it’s not what he expected. It’s soft. A feather light brush of Cas’s lips against his, chapped and bitter from the beer. His heart catches as Cas leans in, a tiny noise slipping free. For a moment, everything shivers to a stop, and it feels like he’s balanced on a precipice. Then Cas’s teeth bite down, into his lip and the levee breaks. He growls, and drags Cas closer, his mouth opening. Cas kisses like he fights, all fierce and clever, overwhelming Dean as he uses his weight to push Dean down onto his back as he settles over him. “Fuck, Castiel,” Dean pants and Cas laughs into the kiss. He catches Dean’s hands and holds them tight as he covers Dean’s body, his hips doing a dirty little grind that makes Dean whine in his throat and bite down on his lip. “This,” Cas murmurs. “Every day, I want this, in our house.” He thrusts again and Dean makes a noise that isn’t a whimper, and Cas smiles against him, all smug satisfaction, licks the noise from his lips and lifts away. “No,” Dean gasps, hands scrambling against Cas’s hold, desperate for that friction. Cas hums against his throat and bites down. Smiles at the strangled noise that earns him, and then he’s got his hands on the prize. He slips Dean’s cock out of the sleep pants, then does the same with his own, and he sinks back down. They both groan at that, all desperate relief as they fit together, rubbing in the most delicious way. “Cas,” Dean whines. His fingers are straining. “Cas, please. ” It breaks something in the angel, and he shifts, releasing Dean’s hands to fist their cocks and Dean bucks up into him, gasping at the sensation. His hands are on those fucking hipbones and his cock is rubbing against Cas’s, the head catching, and it’s driving him crazy. He arches against him and Cas bites down on his neck. “This, Dean. I want this.” Dean is shaking. He wants to pull Cas closer, can’t resist fucking up into Castiel’s perfect hand, and he wants to bolt, wants to run away. His world is shaking apart, and Cas’s grip, the weight of him pressing Dean into the bed, his lips on his throat—it’s all that’s holding him together. “Give it to me,” Cas says, all grit and gravel in his ear, “Come for me, Dean.” His hand twists, just right, and his thumb rubs over the slit of Dean’s cock, smearing precome over them both, and Dean shudders, comes, hot and hard between them. Cas slides down his body and licks it up, and Dean groans again, shuddering at the sight of the angel bent over him, hair messy and eyes shining, licking come off his chest. When Cas kisses him, Dean can taste himself and Castiel, and it’s right. “Want this,” Cas pants, grinding his cock into Dean’s hip and Dean nods, dumbly, too blissed out and stunned to do anything but nod and say, “Yeah, Cas. Yeah.” Castiel comes suddenly, his eyes locked on Dean, and it’s like everything is stripped away. All that’s left is love and want, and all of it for Dean. “Oh,” Dean breathes. “Oh, sweetheart.” He pulls Cas up, and kisses him. It’s deep and slow and sweet, a promise wrapped up in each brush of their lips as Cas shakes and shudders and whimpers. “This,” Cas babbles, frantic with want as he presses tiny kisses into Dean’s skin. “Want this. Want you .” Dean nods and tucks him close. Hums a little soothing noise as Cas shivers against him. They’re a mess and he’s pretty sure beer spilled somewhere, and he doesn’t care. Castiel is in his arms, and that’s all he can really handle right now. He nods again and says, his voice a shaky rasp, “Yeah, sweetheart. Me, too.”