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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

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XCOM au, discussion of past major character death, complicated feelings. Also for sake of sense ElQuackity is just El. I'm not... Hugely great on Roier in terms of character or early QSMP lore so... I just hope its fine. He's... Having a very bad day, and so not especially silly. Set just after a mission I haven't written, one where Ramon is collected and Spreen is confirmed as dead. Trump's been around a month or so.

implied ex possibly onesided Roier/Spreen, referenced ex Fit/Spreen, referenced ex Maxo/Dan. It's mostly Roier and Missa, but they get gatecrashed before fully resolving their shit.

It's late, and they're off shift, and the bar is busy. Roier sits alone in the corner, but for Quackity pouring him glass after glass of the shitty wine. El is serving shots at the other end of the bar, while Maxo, Wilbur, and Tubbo fight over who is in charge of entertainment tonight. Bad's watching the kids as they have a sleepover in the common room, and lets the parents destress after a rough couple of weeks.

And then there is Missa, hiding behind his hood and his avian, throwing glances at Roier every third step.

Roier... Does not want this conversation. He's too burnt out to be cheerful, too tired to stay polite; he has never wanted this conversation, and certainly not in a noisy bar, but... But Spreen is dead and Missa is here, and while they've settled into one another someday they need to kill the elephant in the room.

He gestures him over.

Philza lets him go, and hesitantly Missa comes.

"Missa," Roier raises his glass to the other man.

The hood is tugged down further, hands wrapped in his sleeves in an almost childish attempt at self-comfort, "Roier. How... Are you holding up?"

Roier shrugs, and pretends the truth isn't true, "I'm fine. We kinda knew this was coming anyway, didn't we?"

"It feels different," Missa hesitantly takes a seat, and Quackity brings him a bottle of... Something fruity before vanishing back to surely cause problems for the rest. "I knew he was gone, but now he's... Actually gone?"

"He was always there before," Roier agrees, and forces Missa to meet his eyes. "Still is, in some ways."

"We loved him," Missa says.

"I would have seen him dead," Roier replies. "I was supposed to be the one to kill him."

And Missa smiles, and Roier is surprised to see that the tears dripping over the teeth of his tattoo are quiet ones, "I'm sorry."

Roier glares, "he murdered my dogs, threw me out of my home, injured and to die, and you believed every word he said. You said to my face you were on hid side. You can't just-" Roier notices him getting louder, and clasps it back down. "You can't just apologise it away, Missa."

"He's my brother," Missa says, as if it explains everything. "You- You were just his friend! He was my brother! He loved me, he loved me so much, he taught me and believed in me and kept me safe! And I thought he loved you - why wouldn't I believe him?!"

And Roier can't handle this, so he grabs the bottle to pour himself more wine, and prays for the best. "Missa, it's fine."

"It isn't fine!" And when did Missa grow the spine to argue back? "It's not fine! It's not! Because you're here and I'm here and he's not, and I love him, I love my brother, but he hurt you and I hurt you and it's not going to be okay again!"

"Do you even want it to be okay again?" Roier asks. "Do you even care?!"

"I'm trying!" Missa replies. "I'm trying, but I don't know where you want me to meet you! I watch your back, and I worry when you're hurt, and you must worry about me because I've seen you linger, but what are we?! What are we if Spreen is gone?!"

"We're friends," Roier replies, because that is what they always were. He downs the glass because if he's doing this, he's not doing it sober. "I loved him and you love him and I hate him. He tore out my heart and left me to die. He was my first love, my best friend, and the man who would have been my killer. You... You're not any of that, Missa, you're just..."

What even is Missa?

The man is still, frozen, quiet.

"You're just the little brother of the best and the worst man I ever knew and god damn it I loved him once, and I hated him too, but he's dead and you're here and you're," Roier scrambles for words. "I don't hate you, Missa. I hated your brother, but he's dead, and I think I'm too tired to hate anyone anymore."

"I missed you," Missa admits. "For years. I know Spreen wanted what was best, and I used to believe he knew what that was, but I missed you anyway."

And maybe that means more to Roier than the apology.

Because he's tired, and he's bitter, and it's been years - he's found a new love now, but he needs to know...

He needs to know he was missed, just like he missed them.

Hesitantly Roier reaches out, and touches the now sobbing Missa's shoulder. Missa folds against him, and Roier...

"I missed you too," he admits. "I missed him too."

They stay like that a while. It's Maxo who interrupts them, having abandoned his quest to DJ tonight in search of a drink - not shots like El offers, but an actual bottle of his own choice.

He looks at the two, curious.

"Dead loved ones club," Roier tells him, half as a joke.

Maxo pulls up a stool, and joins them both. He slumps against the bar, and says, "we haven't found proof Dan is dead, yet, but... I think we know."

Roier thinks of a toddler who looks too like the twenty year old photos in Maxo's wallet, and has to agree.

"Spreen was a bastard," it's Fit who wanders over now, seeing them together and a bottle in his hand. "Asshole of a man. Fuck me for loving him, but..."

He downs the beer, and Roier thinks that if anyone understands him, it's the other idiot who loved Spreen.

But why wouldn't you? Strong, protective, dedicated, funnier than the entire Order combined...

The scars on Roier's back smart, but they're there all the same.

"I hated him," Roier says, and the more he says it the harder it is to maintain it's true. "But I loved him."

"Cheers to that," Fit clinks his empty bottle against Roier's empty glass, and pretends to drink from it.

Roier does the same.

"I just love Dan," Maxo says. "It was hard with our- our, er, language. But we learnt. And I loved him. And now I have my baby, but he isn't here. We were supposed to raise a baby together, not like this."

Of all people Fit offers Maxo an arm as he starts crying, Roier's already busy with Missa and Quackity the wrong side of the bar.

Crying which is louder, and draws attention of Philza. His eyes sweep over the group, sharpen when they see Missa, and he drifts over.

"You all good?" he asks.

"Dead lovers club," Fit explains in a few words, then spots Missa and adds. "Or brothers. So I guess pull up a chair."

There's something unspoken between Philza, Missa, and Fit; it passes Roier by, but he's curious. He's allowed to be curious, even with the shattered void of emotions where Spreen should have been.

Tubbo and Wilbur seem to have come to some conclusion where they are both doing something; the room gets louder with the music, hides the group in the back corner even more so.

Under the cover of the music, Fit calls for a round of shots - El tries to deliver them, only for Quackity to steal the tray from his twin.

Once they all have them in hand, Fit nods to the group, and raises his glass, and calls in a half-drunken slur, "to glorious bastards, the cunts they became, and to we the fools that love them!"

Roier, Missa, Fit - they drink to that.

Maxo, the one of them whose dead loved one comes with no complications, hesitates to drink the toast.

Philza, who hadn't drank to it just yet, points his cup directly to Maxo instead.

"To we the fools that love," he repeats, in a much gentler voice.

"To we the fools that love," Maxo repeats, in Spanish.

And everyone drinks to that one.

#qsmp x xcom #qsmp fanfic #i... god how do i tag this one #i came up with it while heading back from the pool and it seemed on the shorter end so scribbled it out #and I do feel like this happened but I feel the words are wrong so...#well. enjoy #not sure why people invaded the heart to heart probably because they had it in a bar

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hailsatanacab · 6 months

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Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #batpham #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #look. this has been in my mind for so long guys so long - and idk if its canon that the batfam have codes for time travel situations or what #but i feel like ive seen it before and if its not canon it should be #so here - how i think that would be funny to go down #i have so many thoughts about TUE and its place in a dpxdc crossover like holy shit there's so many ways it can go!!#i have another wip in the works thats kinda similar to this but with superman and i cannot wait to work on it again #there are so many ways i wanted this to go but i just couldnt get there - i wanted to keep it on the shorter side but like #perhaps ill have to expand #i just love the idea that like. theres a stranger at your table who knows you and knows you well. who knows the secret that youd die to keep #there's a stranger at your table and he says something and you know he's family. you know you're strangers but now...#now you have to be something more #oh man theres so many juicy ways it can go and I KNOW I DID NONE OF THEM #i want to write this whole plot again and make it angstier #(me with everything)#anyway! sorry love you all hope you enjoy it!!

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