Ion think The Priest actually like Chat all that much.


#dc comics#dc#batman#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#batfamily#tim drake#dc fanart



seen from China

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Finland
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from France

seen from United States
seen from China
Ion think The Priest actually like Chat all that much.
*Spoilers for ep 8 btw*
I just realised that in the beginning, with those red and blue circles, the red circle (Caine) was working but the more they added to it the more it malfunctioned so they trapped it and created the blue circle (Abel). Abel worked perfectly but Caine didn't like that, so he absorbed his code and created the circus.
That's why bubble said "You were always the lesser of the two"
It's literally Caine and Abel from the Bible.
yah
Judas is spreading the good word.
Well, Judas is spreading a good word.
New revelations on the bibble front
Leviathan Spends Way Too Long On A Shitpost: ep. number I-Forgor:
The duality of the system's two [as far as we know] main religious trauma holders:
we got a little kid who's perpetually crying, and an archangel with an anger problem [/lh/silly]
couldn't be assed to draw Gabriel's fuckass shoulder pauldrons buh
this was supposed to just be a quick doodle what the hell happened-
Castiel is sitting there, looking extremely out of place in the small couch, with its flowery pattern and the fabric ripped on the side. Too holy for a place like this, even if there is a Bible sitting in the nightstand, covered in dust from disuse. God might be everywhere, or so they say, but Dean can tell they have forgotten about places like this, people like him. He doesn't mind it that much, he has a more solid object for his Faith, someone real.
Sitting there on the couch, on this godforsaken motel in the middle of nowhere, waiting for Dean to join him.
Dean thinks it's the fact he is still wearing his full attire, tie and all, even if they are back to their motel room for the night. That's why he actually looks out of place.
Their room.
He is more than used to sharing a room, but now is Cas the one he shares it with, he only needs a one-bed room now. And Cas doesn't snore, since he doesn't even need to sleep, it's a win-win situation really. Especially when morning comes and the Sun floods the room letting Dean know Cas is still there.
Dean thinks it might be the glow of the ancient tv, illuminating Cas face in the otherwise dark room, making his eyes glow as they focus on the screen.
He knows he doesn't need an excuse anymore to sit down as close as possible to Cas, but if someone asked he could always blame the size of the couch. Without thinking too much about it he flops down next to Cas, his posture way more relaxed and slouched than the angel's, their sides pressed tightly, from thigh to shoulder.
Cas offers the remote without a word, he is watching some reality show Dean would usually avoid but he shakes his head, lets Cas put the remote back down on the coffee table.
Dean isn't watching the tv anyway.
He is stealing glances at Cas, sipping his own beer as the one he handed Cas gets warmer and warmer where it sits forgotten on the table.
This is new, he tells himself, that's why he is nervous, his stomach a riot of those infamous butterflies. It's not new because this thing with Cas just started, as long as they have been dancing around each other, as well as they know the other. A little seedling free from the soil, reaching towards the sunlightz waiting to grow. It's new, period. He has never has the chance before, he has never craved this closeness as he does now.
He finally lets his shoulder fall on Cas' shoulder, wiggling around a bit to get more comfy.
He looks up as Cas looks down, their eyes meet, Dean's are wide, expectant, Cas' as just as wide, like maybe he is scared of doing the wrong move.
"Is this alright?" He checks, ready to move back.
It's all so painfully new.
And Dean almost laughs at Cas' deer caught in the headlights expression, at his own nerves, at the situation as a whole.
Castiel, slowly, awkwardly, starts moving away, Dean is going to apologize, cursing himself for ruining the night, but the words die in his throat as Castiel frees his arm just so he can wrap it around Dean's shoulder, he even pats his upper arm, just as awkwardly as he was moving before, and Dean has to laugh this time around, a quiet thing that is drown by the tv playing in the background.
"Is this alright?" Castiel clears his throat, looks down again, and his eyes are wide once more, but now with hopefulness.
Dean breaths out, relaxing as he exhales, air leavea his lungs, tension leavea his shoulders, smiling when Castiel leans down to leave a quick kiss on his forehead. He finds the hand Castiel has on his arm and tangles their fingers together.
He has taken off the pair of jeans he was wearing, and replaced them with some old shorts, so he has to fight back the urge to jump when Cas' fingertips find the skin of his thigh. The touch isn't invasive, it has no intention behind it, Cas is just mindlessly following the freckles scattered across his thigh, creating patterns Dean can't recognize but that, knowing Cas, could be the shapes of the constellations that Dean swears he can see shining in his eyes sometimes.
"It's perfect, sunshine."
The B I B B L E
(I'm sorry for the ones with headphones)