Thinking about doing a little deleted scenes series for Universe like moments that didnt make it into the actual story! It'll def focus more on Cecil and DNA'S relationship developing and her relationships with other super heros
There is so much fucking rage in my fucking heart when I see people censor the swears
I saw someone censor their own fucking fanfic description on AO3!!! "[The characters] f*ck." DO THEY??? DO THEY?!?!??! HOW CAN I TRUST YOU TO WRITE THE FUCKING WHEN YOU DON'T EVEN DARE USE THE WORD.
Your blog soothes my rage. You make right what has gone wrong.
God fucking bless you.
Honestly yeah tho. That’s why I fucking do this. There is a lot of complying in advance I am seeing that we do not need to be doing at all.
Do not lay belly up and die. Say fuck like your life depends on it.
Soooo I've gotten into the Invincible fandom and have some ideas kicking around...
I'm working on a Conquest one-shot because I Wanna Fuck That Crazy Old Man but I was also thinking about found family trope with baby Teen Team and so yeah.
(Notes: i'm not calling the Immortal "the Immortal" where a proper name should be. Lacking a canon one, other than Abraham Lincoln, i decided he's old enough and probably angsty enough to be the historical inspiration for Cain. As in Cain and Abel. So I'm calling him Cain.
I know plenty of people don't like the Immortal, reasonably so. But I like the concept of his character.)
Per usual, reader has a hero name, no use of y/ anything. Reader uses she/her pronouns.
No content warnings
The bruises haven't even finished fading when you get the call.
That makes it sound like a lot of time has passed since you clawed your way out of that stainless steel hell. It has not. Its been 42 hours and 17 minutes, 80% of which has been spent in what could generously be called a coma.
The ringing landline drags you kicking and screaming (figuratively for now) back to the land of the living. You surface from the drool-soaked hotel sheets like a breaching whale, sucking air and flopping with abandon. The phone keeps ringing.
"Wh'huh?" you grunt into the receiver.
"Up and at 'em, sunshine." The devil sounds like he needs a cigarette. "I'm calling in that favor."
It's been two days.
You say as much - or more accurately, slur it into the room phone. Shame on you for forgetting to rip the thing out of the wall. Unfortunately, words like "recovery" and "grace period" are blasphemy in the Cecil Stedman Bible, and everyone is an apostle whether they like it or not.
"I have an assignment I need you on," he says.
Considering how widely disliked he is, you'd think he'd stop using such personal words as "I" and "me" to convince people to do things. Then again, Cecil doesn't make requests, he just informs people about things they dont know they're doing yet. Including you now, because you said the words "I owe you one" out loud.
"'M not-"
"A hero," he interrupts, "I know. I'm not asking you to fight anyone."
You blink hard, trying to process that there's a boundary he's respecting. Wonders never cease.
"This is more of a supervisor role," he says into your cautiously optimistic silence.
Whatever it is, you doubt it'll be as simple as he's making it sound. It never is. Opting out isn't on the table this time though. You sigh and rub feeling back into your face with your free hand.
"Fine."
"Donald is in the lobby with coffee."
Now that's a hero.
It looks like a hurricane swept through downtown chicago. For all intents and purposes, one did. Typhoon, a C-tier villain, escaped during prisoner transport.
Windows shattered, cars smashed, signs ripped from posts, and all the sharp debris swept up in flood waters. Light poles and traffic signals are bent at precarious angles, cracking pavement like weeds pulled up in a garden. Civilians huddle on the rooves of sixteen-wheelers and fire escape platforms, shivering and windswept. Casualties were few, but they weren't zero.
An A-tier level of damage in a little less than twenty minutes.
Responsibility for the destruction doesn't rest solely on Typhoon's shoulders. The heroes - no, amateurs that responded are also to blame.
Disorganized. Sloppy.
Four of them, a formal and recognized team, and this was the best they could do?
"—lucky the Immortal was nearby to clean up your mess! I should bench you until you relearn the basics."
Cain, sensing a nonverbal cue, crosses his arms in agreement, frowning at the Teen Team.
Rex is in the back of an ambulance for lack of other dry places to sit, a wad of gauze pressed to his split eyebrow. His pupils are two different sizes but that doesn't stop him from rolling his eyes.
Kate's arms are crossed tightly, looking anywhere but Cecil or the destruction. She's favoring one leg and hiding it poorly but she snapped at the last EMT that approached her.
Eve, for her part, seems genuinely contrite at least, casting sheepish glances at the ruined city streets with her chin tilted towards her chest. Though she's not badly injured, she sports scrapes and growing bruises just like the other humans.
Robot, of course, has had almost no reaction to anything at all.
"We did our best, man!" Rex complains, slurring a little. "What're we s'posed to do, fight the wind?"
Cecil scowls harder, hands on his hips.
"You're supposed to do your goddamn jobs," Cecil shouts, "you do whatever it takes. This is an embarrassment."
The three teenagers jerk as if they've been struck, eyes wide and shoulders high.
It's harsh, perhaps even unnecessarily hurtful, but this outcome was unacceptable. Cain doesn't follow news of the next hero generation but he knows that Teen Team normally operates at a level impressive for their ages. Perhaps that has made them cocky, or reckless, and that's why this situation got so out of hand. It could be excused as a simple folly of youth if they were normal teenagers, but they're not normal. They're heroes, and arrogance can cost lives. It did cost lives this time.
"Uh helloooo, we got Typhoon, didn't we?" Rex scoffs.
Eve quickly steps in front of him. "What he's trying to say is that Typhoon was hard to beat but we did the best we could."
Cecil opens his mouth, only for a sharp voice to crack through the air like lightning.
"Teen Team."
It's the type of tone that makes the hindbrain sit up and pay attention. Every one of them— even Robot — straightens their spine. At Cain's side, Cecil sighs, closes his eyes, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Mutters something that sounds like "oh hell."
Cain turns towards the voice.
A woman floats down from the sky, dressed in thick black cargo pants and a long-sleeved compression shirt. A reflective harness loops around her torso and a pristine white caduceus is printed on each arm.
Cain recognizes her from countless disasters and catastrophes, though he can't remember ever speaking to her. She has the most powerful healing abilities in the world, living first-aid.
"Kit…" Cecil begins. But he steps back to make room for her to land between them and the teen heroes.
"Cecil," she replies, clipped. Her eyes flick to Cain. "Immortal."
Then she spins on her heel. Despite the initial reaction, Eve softens and steps aside without haste.
"Let's see it," Kit says to Rex, warmer.
He winces. "Its not a big deal, ma…"
Ma?
Despite his protest and squirming, he leans in when she reaches for his face and drops his hand readily. The split in his brow is sizeable, still bleeding sluggishly despite steady pressure for several minutes now.
"Helluva knock," Kit says mildly, "what was it?"
"Trashcan," Kate interjects just as he opens his mouth.
"A and B conversation," Rex snaps, "so C yourself out!"
Kit clicks her tongue, hand hovering over his head. Gentle golden light blooms from her palm. Right before their eyes, the cut in his eyebrow seals without so much as a scar.
Rex blinks a couple times, then shakes his head.
"Oh shit, I thought Kate had a duplicate just chilling this whole time," he muses.
Kit pivots towards Kate but angles her head at Cecil.
"Why were you yelling at my kids?"
"Have you looked around?"
She blinks at him, slowly. The same golden light flows towards Kate. Some of the tension in her shoulders eases, brow unfurrowing.
"Eve?" Kit asks.
"It was Typhoon. We've never fought them before but… I don't know, something seemed off. Maybe it was just more than we could handle…"
She looks more shamefaced now than she did when Cecil was berating them. Kit makes a considering noise.
"Kate? Rex?"
"We should've called for backup," Kate offers reluctantly.
"I thought Typhoon was supposed to be a loser? We fight tougher guys in the Lizard League."
It was arrogance, then. They expected an easy foe and failed to perform with the appropriate effort. Cain won't pretend he's never done the same, but that doesn't excuse their mistakes.
"You got cocky," Cecil states.
Mouths open, ready to respond, but Kit's even voice cuts across them all with ease.
"Rex." She waits until he looks at her. Cain has only just met him, but the way his mouth twists seems uncharacteristic. "Is this a villain you would normally beat easily?"
There's one beat of silence. Two. He holds her gaze.
"Yeah."
Kit turns back to Cecil, and by proxy, Cain. She projects the kind of calm that most leaders aspire to, the eye of a storm. She doesn't say a word, but the message is clear.
Cecil sighs. "Come on, Kit, they're—"
"After running an analysis on collated battle data, it does appear that Typhoon's power output was significantly higher than usual," Robot states.
Cecil frowns, concern flickering across his face as he processes this information.
"How much higher?"
"2.5 times higher than the previous highest data point for damage radius and intensity."
Kit, gently untangling bits of debris from Eve's hair, doesn't gloat. Rex, still seated behind her, does.
"Something's wrong with Typhoon," she concludes. "Where are they now?"
Cecil's eyes narrow. "In custody, headed to the Pit."
She hums. "I'd like to take a look at them."
"You think it's biological?"
"I think that's a place to start." She turns back to Teen Team. "Go home, get cleaned up, have a debrief ready when I get back."
Eve and Kate nod.
Rex groans, "I just wanna nap."
"Nap when your report is done. Now, get."
She waits until they're out of earshot before casting Cecil a look caustic enough to burn.
"Don't call them embarrassments again."
The "or else" hangs in the air, unspoken. Cain isn't certain what the "or else" implies though. She is a stringent non-combatant; her work is stellar but only begins after a battle has concluded. He's never seen her so much as throw a punch.
He's still glad she didn't aim those words, or that look, at him. Cain has been around long enough to know that two people to never make enemies of are physicians and cooks.
"Noted," Cecil replies, flat.
Kit spins on her heel and walks towards the nearest SUV, waving at Donald with a smile.
Cain stares after her. She looks… very good in her uniform.
"Why was she—"
"I asked her to mentor Teen Team as a favor," Cecil explains, then adds in a grumble, "didn't realize they'd imprint on her like ducklings."
Cain wasn't aware she had a working relationship with the GDA (or Cecil, at least) at all until now. For someone that's been first on the scene in the wake of Gaurdians' battles and other catastrophes for decades now, there's a lot he doesnt know about her.
I thought the smut would bring more readers to Universe NOT THAT THE SMUT ISNT PLOT RELEVANT but it seems like thats all people want these days i could be wrong tho
Going off of @taco-wiener young cecil art (which is incredibly yall should check it out) young cecil loved toxic relationships. He loved arguing he loved fighting because it always turned into filthy hate sex. Sure he could for it but then the anger wouldn't be real. Arguing is foreplay to him
Im writing fanfiction for me at the end of the day but man id really love it if other people told me they liked my writing. Im thankful for all the comments ive had on my first few chapters but ive put some real sweat blood and tears into these last ones and im not sure if they liked it. And I am immensely grateful for my friends who continously hype me and and rally me to keep going I guess my own anxiety is taking over blegh blegh blegh
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