#disaster brothers

[js-dragonart]

There is one place that always made him feel safe when a storm raged outside the castle walls.

Years later the storms outside no longer scare him...because the chaos in his mind and heart are so much worse.

And it almost cost him his safety.

Drawing this was almost worse than working on "Seeing Ghosts". I don`t know why I keep doing this to myself. Am I allergic to happiness?

[whatwooshkai]

kade's got a point though

[meara-eldestofthemall]

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.

I need more!

snow falling like stars (snippet)

Bruce has been presumed dead for a few months when Dick learns that "Alvin Draper" has been accused of murder and thrown into a secret prison in Siberia. Dick goes to rescue him.

But in order to get in, he has to pose as an interrogator.

Not the way he wanted to meet his little brother again.

@upswings, this is your fault, I took your Red Robin art-theft prompt and made it angstier. @mr-sarcastic, many thanks for fixing my terrible Russian. xD

* * *

[Dick]

The prison is barely guarded. But it doesn't have to be. For twenty miles around, it's surrounded by snow and ice. Stay in the prison and live. Leave it and die.

Dick shivers. The cold is biting into his fingers. His gloves are goat leather lined with wool, the best money can buy, but the Siberian winter is no joke. And when he tries to flex his wrists, curl his fingers, the gloves are stiff. Flexibility: not great.

Good for the image, though. There’s dried blood on the palms of the gloves.

“And Petr sent you?” the guard asks, again.

Dick grunts in acknowledgment. “I have tools.”

His Russian’s passable, but it’s better for the guards not to know that. So for the purposes of this disguise, he’s the strong silent type. Struggling with the language. Squinting when anyone uses a complicated word. He overlays a German accent on his vowels.

According to his documents, he’s Raoul Tischendorf, German citizen.

Officially: a doctor.

Unofficially: an interrogator.

The real Raoul Tischendorf is currently unconscious in a hotel room in Moscow. He had an unpleasant confrontation with Batman last night, and contributed his winter coat and his briefcase of tools to this project. It wasn’t practical to get him arrested yet, not when Dick needed to use his identity, so Tischendorf’s currently sleeping off a cocktail of drugs in a hotel room. That’s where he’ll stay for the next twenty-two hours, which is when the Batplane will automatically send a tip to Interpol.

Once the police arrest him, rumors will spread. Which means Dick’s disguise will hold for about twenty-four hours.

He means to be out of here in two, but it’s always good to leave extra time.

* * *

Two weeks ago, Shurka Vasilieva was murdered in the midst of a secure compound outside Moscow. The case was hushed up quickly, but not before whispers got out. She’d run one of the most advanced international smuggling networks. They called her The Untouchable. Now she’s dead. No sign of forced entry. Her security guards caught the assassin—the alleged assassin—before he could escape over the electrified fence.

No one knows how the thief got in. No one knows who sent him. But someone sent him. At least, that’s what Vasilieva’s son thinks. Vasilieva’s son is sure it’s a message from his mother’s enemies.

Dick doesn’t think so. Though he’s trying, hard, not to jump to conclusions.

Here’s what Dick knows: money wasn’t the motive. Shurka Vasilieva was poisoned in a room with golden goblets and ivory sculptures. At least fifty million rubles’ worth of priceless art, and most of it portable.

But according to reports, the only thing the thief took was a broken Greek ostrakon with a bat scratched into it.

Here’s the other thing Dick knows.

When Vasilieva’s private guards grabbed the thief, they found a passport identifying him as Alvin Draper.

Tim.

* * *

(And it almost certainly is Tim. Dick would like to believe otherwise, but “Alvin Draper” was stealing bat-themed paraphernalia in Berlin two months ago, and “Alvin Draper” is the guy that they caught with the pottery. And the description that Babs hacked from the Vasiliev network matches, more or less. Black hair, blue eyes, around fifteen. Tim’s seventeen, actually, but he’s always been baby-faced.)

* * *

Seven days ago, Babs picked up the chatter from the Russian underground, and alerted Dick.

Six days ago, she managed to hack into Vasilieva’s son’s email and his phone. She thinks Petr Vasiliev’s panic and grief is genuine. (I know you don’t want to accept this, Dick, but I really think we have to consider the possibility that—)

Four days ago, Dick lied to Donna when she asked if he’d heard any news about Tim.

Three days ago, Babs found out that Tim had been captured, even though the official word was that he’d escaped. She managed to locate the secret prison by hacking into satellites. (They won’t kill him--they think he’s got information, Petr wants to know who sent him. My guess is he’ll be able to escape within the week, but it won’t be pleasant in the meantime. And depending on how stable he is—well. It’s your call, Dick. Do you want me to send Helena?)

Two days ago, Dick lied to Wally about having business in Gotham this week.

Also two days ago, Dick gave Alfred a very abbreviated version of the truth: Tim might be in Russia, I’m gonna go check on him, watch Damian for me until I get back.

And now he’s here.

Alone.

* * *

(Dick knows he shouldn’t have lied. Not to Donna, at the very least. This is the sort of thing that Bruce does—did. Keeping secrets. Sneaking around. But the problem is, when you involve other people, you give them a say. You open up your choices to other people’s judgments. And Wally and Donna and Clark—sure, they’ve all met Tim, but they don’t really know him.

The Vasiliev secret prison isn't exactly the same as an international authority. Dick's on firm ground breaking Tim out of here. But once he's out, then it's more unclear.

The actual authorities are investigating this murder, too. The Russian police. Not to mention Interpol, which is still after Alvin Draper for art theft back in the E.U.

If “Alvin Draper” had actually committed this crime, then sprinting him off to the U.S. to evade justice would be—morally questionable. Possibly unethical. Definitely not something that Clark would approve of. Not something the JLA could stand for.

There would have to be—Dick doesn’t even know what.

Confessions.

Consequences.

* * *

That's not gonna happen, though. It must be a misunderstanding. A weird, morbid coincidence. Or a setup. Maybe Vasilieva died of a heart attack, but her son thinks that’d make his mom sound weak, so he’s pretending the thief killed her. Or maybe Petr killed his mother, and he took advantage of the opportunity to blame the thief. Or maybe somebody else killed Shurka Vasilieva, and Tim just happened to be there. Or--something.

The point is, Tim’s not a murderer.

Tim’s gotten mixed up in something stupid, and Dick will definitely wring his neck for it, once he gets the chance.

But he’s not a murderer.

Not a chance in hell.

Still. Just in case. Dick would rather not involve other people until he’s sure he’s got all the facts.

* * *

The guard's slow-moving, but steady. He doesn't turn his back to Dick. When he unlocks the door that leads to the prison cells, he keeps a casual hand on his gun. He's not suspicious of Dick specifically--that'd be more obvious. It's just habit. A competent man, with firearm training. That's problem number one.

Problem number two: the prison's barely guarded, but it is guarded. Two men at each entrance. A few chatting in the hallways. And they all know each other by name.

Which means escape is gonna mean get out fast.

* * *

The guard pauses before a rusted iron door. "Here," he says. "You want to see him now?"

Yes. No. Yes, right away.

"I do my job," Dick says, in bad Russian.

The man eyes the briefcase of tools with an interest that Dick doesn't like. "You gonna use the screws on him? I'll tell you, he's stubborn. Nothing we've done has worked. He won't talk. And I'd lay odds he speaks Russian, for all he's pretending he don't."

“What kind of man?” Dick asks, keeping his voice neutral. ���The prisoner.”

The guard shrugs. “Bruises easy. Won't talk, 'cept in German, sometimes. But he’s a Brit, I think.”

Wrong nationality. But still unnerving. “Why you think so?”

“He talks in his sleep. Not my fault he slept that long, okay? That was Tolya’s fault. Tolya’s an idiot. But he was on watch before me, and he forgot we were s’posed to keep the kid awake, so the kid was sleeping. And I heard him babbling. Couldn’t make much sense of it, but it sounded like English to me. I got English in school, you know?”

Dick grunts.

(Nightmares. It must be.)

* * *

Dick should feel pity. He will later, probably.

But right now, the only emotion he’s got is anger. Bright and hot.

You stupid, stupid, stupid little idiot.

* * *

(Please be okay.)

* * *

[Tim]

Everything hurts. They’ve been keeping him awake—he’s only caught snatches of sleep, two hours here, two hours there, and that’s only because of the laziness of the guards. They’ve got him on his feet. Chained to the wall—his wrists have the dull ache that means there are sores developing there. They keep the gag in except when they want to ask him questions, or hear him scream.

None of it matters. None of it’s real. His body is a tool.

The ostrakon is the key. And they haven’t even taken it out of the room. They’ve left it in his cell, like a taunt. Steal me. They want to know if there’s some hidden message, if he’s sending some signal. But Tim isn’t the one sending signals. Bruce is.

Radiocarbon dating once he gets out. Pinpoint the date and analyze the compounds. Tim’s got a map in his mind, bright pinpricks all over a world map. Years and locations. The last clue now is in Budapest. He just has to get there.

(Ra’s is sure taking his sweet time about an extraction.)

(Assuming he even knows Tim needs one. Blood and a crimson smile and—don’tthinkaboutit—)

It’s fine. Tim can get himself out. Stupid to rely on the League of Assassins, just because he’s gotten mixed up in their war. Careless. Dumb.

He’s already mentally mapped out when the shift changes happen, and he’s been pretending to speak only German, which means the guards have gotten sloppy about what they say in front of him. There’s a town twenty miles from here. Doable in good weather. Deadly in the cold. So it’s not enough to get out of the chains. He’d need to knock out a guard. Steal a coat. Drag himself to the town. Break into a hotel room once he’s there—Tim’s a good liar, even in Russian, but most of disguise is how you look, not how you sound.

A fake name’s not gonna cut it. Not with bruises on his face and blood matting his hair. So: break out of the prison. Break into the town. And then—

And then—

His thoughts are lagging.

It was so clear a minute ago.

* * *

Everything hurts.

Maybe he’ll die here. It’s almost an appealing thought. He’s so tired.

Cassie would be sad. But she’d get over it. She’s got her mom. When you’ve got family, it's different. And anyway, Cassie’s got the team. She’s got people. She’ll be okay. She doesn’t need Tim.

Tim’s not necessary to other people the way they are to him. It used to hurt, but right now it feels more like a relief. No obligations. No strings.

And maybe—you never know. Might see Conner. See Bart. Mom and Dad. Bruce.

No, wait.

Not Bruce. Because Bruce is alive.

That’s right. That’s important, it’s really important. Tim almost forgot. Bruce, alive, the data. Have to do that first.

Chains. Guard. Focus.

* * *

Guard right now is Gray-Eyes. The careful one. He’s stepped out for a bit, but he’ll be back. He’s sharp. No good trying to escape when he's on duty. But Anatoly has the next shift. Anatoly’s the slow one. Knock him out. Take his stuff. Take the ostrakon. At the shift change. Ten hours from now, assuming Tim hasn’t lost any time. But he doesn’t think he has. Tim’s good at keeping time in his head. Bruce used to say that—

No. Not used to. Bruce says it’s a talent. Impressive.

Okay. A plan. Good. It’s good to have a plan. He just has to hold on for another ten hours.

For now, he lets himself sag.

It’s not like it matters, really. There’s no one here to see.

* * *

The door squeaks. Gray-Eyes is back - Tim's gotten to recognize his shuffle. And someone else, someone light-footed.

He doesn't open his eyes.

The interrogator must have arrived.

* * *

Right, then. It's gonna be a fun ten hours.

* * *

"He's difficult," Gray-Eyes is saying. "Like a wildcat."

Gray-Eyes and Tim have not gotten along since the scratching incident. Admittedly, not Tim's best work. He hadn't intended to react. It turns out that whips are very unpleasant. Gray-Eyes shouldn't hold Tim's reflexes against him.

The interrogator grunts. There's something faintly familiar about the sound. Tim tries to trace it back - somebody from the compound? or best-case scenario, one of Ra's' people? - before he realizes it just reminds him of Bruce.

So Tim's homesick and delirious. This week keeps on getting better. Maybe by the end of the day they'll go for a three-pointer and break his leg, or something. Homesick, delirious, and lame. That would suck. Especially vis-a-vis the escape plan.

Gray-Eyes is coming closer. He's got a heavy tread: easy to hear. It's everything Tim can do to keep his eyes closed and his breathing even. See, I'm sleeping. Talk amongst yourselves.

"I don't let him sleep long," Gray-Eyes is explaining.

Gray-Eyes likes to wake Tim up dramatically. Real flair for showmanship, Gray-Eyes. He missed his calling. He should've been a stage magician. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, observe the wild Robin. I will now saw him in half.

The interrogator grunts again. Apparently a man of few words.

Gray-Eyes grabs his face, digs his fingers into the bruises.

Oh, that hurts. That really, really -

"Mnh," Tim says.

No point pretending to be asleep now. He blinks his eyes open, but he can't make out much.

Gray-Eyes has switched on the overhead spotlight. Shining a light into Tim's eyes again.

(Showing off for the visitor? Gray-Eyes: Torturer's Apprentice. Hah.)

There are black spots behind Tim's vision, and everything hurts, but there's just barely a chance this new guy might be from Ra's. There's just something about him that feels familiar. And if he is from Ra's, then showing weakness now would be a bad move.

Tim's under no illusions about the League. He's interesting as long as he's defiant. As long as he's potentially useful.

"I'd offer you a drink," Tim croaks, in German, "but I'm a little tied up."

"What's he saying?" Gray-Eyes asks. "Etwas zu trinken - something about a drink?"

So Gray-Eyes knows some German. Good to know.

"He make jokes," the interrogator says, in stilted Russian. Then, cold: "I talk to him. Then, no jokes."

Tim tries to guess the new guy's nationality from his voice. Actually German, or somebody from the League faking it? Impossible to tell. Seeing him would help, but the glare's too bright.

Think. Low tenor voice. Younger than Gray-Eyes. He sounds like - well, like Dick, actually, which will be an extra fun thought once the interrogation gets going.

Like Dick when he's in a temper, or lowering his voice into a growl. So: twenties, maybe, and trying to sound older. Young for this job.

Gray-Eyes is in his fifties. He's vicious, but he's losing strength.

The new guy won't have that problem.

* * *

[funkyboxofinterests]

And then Donnie never makes a joke ever again

[grey-viridian]

Even death can't separate them

[jcraindrop]

Leo is unpredictable.

That’s seems like something he would do.✨

[koolaidashley]

I can’t sleep

[sodamnbored]

Damian, entering the living room: Oh, Drake. I didn’t realise you were here too.

Tim, distracted on his phone on the couch: Yeah, best WiFi around. Keeping busy?

Damian, looking in cupboards and chandeliers for acrobatic older brothers: Looking for Dick.

Tim absently, not looking up from Grindr: Mm, me too.

[egophiliac]

Hello ! I positively adore the running joke of Idia unknowingly finding Lilia to be the coolest guy ever whenever he doesn't know it's him, like when Silver described his father, or obviously with muscle red. I can't say what'd be funnier, Idia finding out his online best friend is actually Lilia, resident spooky hyper fairy; or them both never finding out, and it'd become even more ridiculous as time goes on. How do you think it'll play out ? You're always so on point

(Also, though it makes sense, I'm still devastated bat boy didn't get a ticket for the Halloween skeleton train : ( does anyone mentions him at some point ? Like how he'd have fit right in with all those Halloween town little freaks, and how he'd have impressed them with his spooks and scared techniques; after all he's been every Briar Valley's children worst fear on Halloween for centuries. I'm on the eng server and I didn't wanna spoil myself by watching the whole thing on youtube)

Have a nice day !

you and me both, Idia and Lilia being oblivious online BFFs (+ Idia being incredibly intimidated any time Silver brings up his jock gamer dad) is my favorite running joke/subplot. 🤝 it's SO good, to the point where I also am unsure if I actually want it to ever be resolved or not...maybe, like, as a post-canon stinger or something? everyone's standing around covered in overblot ink, and Idia and Lilia's phones go off at the same time...

(legit I do think this is part of why Idia couldn't be present for Lilia's dream, because for some reason Lilia decided he was going to just. embody his past self online. he probably quotes his own battle strategies or whatever in the middle of boss fights. Idia didn't pick up on the whole "oh how weird that we both live on a super remote island" thing, but he would spend thirty seconds listening to General Lilia describing siege warfare and be like "w-wait")

all that aside, however it does end up happening, I do see Lilia being very blasé and all "oh! cool!" about it. y'know, taking it very much in stride! and Idia...very much not.

(can't tell if tumblr is going to chew this into illegibility or not, this will be a fun surprise ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

as for Lilia sadly missing out on Halloweentown shenanigans...he does get one little mention as part of an offhand reference to the light music club, but so far no one has brought up how this basically is just Lost In the Book of Liliatown (Sebek's been too busy yelling about not getting to be in the same group as Malleus). 😔 honestly though, it's probably for the best that he got left out, because he would just settle right in and refuse to ever leave. canon would shatter. we would miss out on all the delightful angst of episode 7 because Lilia is too busy eating poisonous shrubbery inbetween practicing his very best screams, and no one can pull him away from it.

(I can hope for a sequel next year though...)

[l33n1s]

No but Shen Twins AU where Shen Yuan is technically a member of Cang Qiong Mt sect but he's almost never there cause he's too busy traveling and studying/documenting all of the cool plants and animals.

But when he Does spend time at the sect it's Qing Jing Peak's emotional equivalent to Christmas, cause Shen Jiu is actually in a good mood (as good as his moods get at least) and Shen Yuan has picked up a habit of bringing sweets for the disciples. He just shows up and suddenly the bamboo house doesn't seem so empty, Shen Jiu actually seems comfortable for once, and the whole peak's atmosphere seems to shift.

And, it's always a very jaring experience for new disciples the first time they meet Shen Yuan. Cause there's this guy who looks exactly like their teacher but is so much less severe. His posture is a little more relaxed, he Actually smiles at them every once in a while, he doesn't get annoyed when they ask about his adventures and is instead very willing to share his stories (if he dresses them up a little who's to blame him). For many of them it stuns them to see Anyone be so casual with their teacher and be left alive after; to see him argue with someone in a way that is actually harmless rather than scathing.

It doesn't help though that noone actually knows When Shen Yuan will ever show up or how long he'll actually stay. It definitely varies, sometimes he'll just be passing through the area on his way to some other cool place, sometimes he stays for a few months in order to teach a couple classes on useful plants and dangerous animals.

Often during his visits, he visits the other peaks too. He talks with Mu Qingfang about about medicinal plants while he's treated for any injuries he has (it's not his fault he's accident prone, and if he fell of that cliff while trying to follow a very cool bird-thing no one needs to know). He has tea with Yue Qingyuan (who met him for the first time and said "our younger brother"); Shen Jiu is decidedly not happy about this but "oh well he'll live"

[aimportantdragoncollector]

LOL this his hilarious.

I love Ghost Yoichi's expression and his cute tail.

A silly little thing my mind wanted me to draw.

Spoiler for chapter 408 ahead!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Normal Friend Behaviour.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[131-vr]

NEXT

This took way too long, I'm kinda embarrassed posting this. School and life got in the way. This is going to be in 3 parts I guess, stay tune.

[charmwasjess]

We simply do not talk enough about how Asajj Ventress is just as much a surviving heir of the Disaster Lineage as the rest of that fucked up family

[cupcakeslushie]

My contribution to the baby saga over in the Separated Council Discord!

Everyone but Sprout is getting baby-fied, Red and One will as well, but before that, they’ll cause as much mischief as possible.

Labels for everyone below! 👇

EW is mine!

Annnd *deep breath*

Separated Leo AU @dianagj-art

Two Arms Left @intotheelliwoods

Red Rover AU @red-rover-au

Same as it never will be @heckitall

Gemini AU @tangledinink

The Little Prince @beannary

Tiz Sep AU @tizeline

Never Better @less-depresso-more-espresso

True Colors @v-albion

Even More Disaster @teaableu and @3lectricinsomnia

Tentative Devotee @s0fti3w1tch

The Night @y0unginhumans

Villain PB&J @onionninjasstuff

SnapDragon @bluesgras

Little Brother @sharkfinn

Mutant Manhunt @brainrottmnt

Life Mission @daedelweiss

Phew.

[jade-bright]

Big brother Stiles (+Derek) with little Malia and Jackson

Stiles: Okay puppies, there are 206 bones in the human body, but! I’m gonna teach you how to dislocated someone’s body in 230 ways-

Derek: Stiles, they're kids!

Malia & Jackson:

Stiles: Oh yeah! You’re right.

*turns around for a few moments before turning back with puppets over his hands*

Stiles, in somewhat a kermit voice: Hi kids! We're going to show you how to dislocate someone's body! Let's start with the Clavicle region. Do you know where that is?

Derek: Oh my god

———*after a while*———

Peter: Wait what did you teach them?

Stiles: There are 206 bones in the human body...

Peter: Mischief! They're CHILDREN! *turns to the kids*

Peter: If you are fighting an opponent your age pups, there may be up to 270 bones in the human body. Children's bones ares still fusing together. Here is how you can use that....