Inconceivable Ch. 27 (Invincible AU) (Patreon)

(Every character depicted in the story below is a consenting legal adult over the age of 18)

A/N: Being Donald Ferguson is suffering.

-x-X-x-

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight… you’re offering me enough money to keep my sanctuary funded for the next century and experimental alien treatments to de-age me and keep me ticking for all that time as well. And in exchange, all I’ve got to do is marry this poor abused soul and pop out some kids with him?”

When Cecil had first assigned Donald to helping the Viltrumite Expedition find prospective humans to… mate with, Donald honestly hadn’t been sure what to expect it to be like. Sitting across from a tanned woman with grey hair and weathered features, however, he realizes he never could have truly prepared himself for how… ridiculous this would all feel.

Sandra Anderson is nobody special outside of a very niche community. In her sixties now, the woman has spent the last thirty years focused heavily on conservation efforts down in Texas. She’s been running a Wildlife Sanctuary for three decades now, one dedicated to rescuing and taking care of all sorts of animals.

GDA’s analysts had marked her as a top candidate for one Viltrumite in particular… and said Viltrumite’s candid photo was on the table between them. Admittedly, having seen him with his prosthetic arm and wearing his people’s uniform, Carl looked rather strange to Donald in nothing but flannel, blue jeans, and a trucker hat.

But that, the analysts had said, was by design. Helping Carl ‘blend in’ a little bit while still being upfront about his true nature. That was the name of the game. So yes, he was stood there smiling weakly, one of the arms of his flannel tied off and his ruined, scarred eye on full display.

He looks like he didn’t know where he was or what he was doing with himself. The perfect sort of picture to tug at a very specific set of heartstrings.

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct.”

Donald doesn’t bother mincing words. Sure, a lot of women could probably be enticed with just some money in exchange for carrying a Viltrumite’s child for nine months… but Carl was different. Cecil had been very explicit about that. They needed to find him a proper home, seeing as he wasn’t going to be part of the rotation of heroes the rest of the Viltrumite Expedition was taking part in.

Sandra stares down at Carl’s photo for a moment and though she’s clearly trying to scrutinize it carefully, Donald can see the empathy in her eyes already. You didn’t spend thirty years taking care of wounded wildlife just to turn away a man like Carl, after all.

… Of course, you also didn’t spend thirty years running a successful Sanctuary without learning to read between the lines. Looking up at Donald, Sandra narrows her eyes.

“What’s the catch?”

Donald clears his throat and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“… The ‘catch’, if there is one, is that you will marry and bear Carl’s children, Ms. Anderson. We’re offering you money and a longer lifespan in exchange for… being with an alien man.”

Sandra grunts, looking down at Carl again.

“… He doesn’t look very alien.”

Sighing, Donald shakes his head.

“I assure you, he’s very much an alien. They just happen to look… a lot like us.”

“Huh. And would he be taking these experimental treatments too? Getting younger and all that?”

Donald pauses… and shakes his head again.

“I’m afraid they would have no effect on him, Ms. Anderson. We’ve been told he’s thousands of years old.”

Sandra’s eyes widen and the weathered woman sits back in her chair with a low whistle.

“Damn. That’s… alright then. Guess he’s likely seen some shit.”

Donald finds himself thinking back to the conversation he and Cecil had spied on and slowly nods.

“That is a… fair assumption, ma’am.”

After a moment of processing, Sandra leans forward again. She looks to the photo once more and this time the sympathy, that need to take care of someone, is shining through much brighter. She’s still a bit guarded though.

“… Alright final question. Why isn’t he here to tell me all this himself? Does he even speak our language?”

Sensing that she’s on the verge of saying yes, Donald shifts in his seat.

“Yes, he can speak English just fine.”

Not that Donald knows how, but he has enough on his plate as is, he doesn’t need to know.

“As for why he’s not here now… he’s a bit imposing. He asked me to… handle these talks in his place for fear of scaring you off.”

Sandra blinks and then lets out a scoff.

“Scare me off, huh? Honey, I’ve handled literal lions, tigers, AND bears over the past thirty years. Some alien man ain’t going to scare me off, not even if he’s built like a lumberjack. If I’m saying yes to this, I’m going to meet him properly.”

Donald just nods and rises to his feet.

“Right this way then, ma’am.”

It takes them a couple of minutes to reach Carl’s room. Donald knocks first and after a moment hears a gravelly ‘come in’. Opening the door, he enters to find Carl sitting up on the bed. Sandra enters behind him, causing Carl to stiffen a bit at the sight of her. The Viltrumite is smart enough to know what her presence means even if he doesn’t know who exactly she is.

“Carl, this is Sandra Anderson. Sandra… Carl.”

The pair seem to study each other for a long moment before Sandra crosses her arms over her chest and arches her brow.

“These government agents are offering me the fountain of youth so I can pop out some babies for you. That said, I’m not giving up my work. I run a Wildlife Rescue Sanctuary and the only reason I’d be saying yes is so that I can keep running it and pushing for better treatment of animals across the board for the next hundred years.”

Pausing, she takes a breath even as Carl watches her closely.

“So I suppose the only question to be asked is… do you think that’s the kind of thing you could dedicate yourself to as well? Because I doubt it’d work out well for either us or the kids if we didn’t have anything in common. As much as I might want to say yes anyways to secure the funding and the extra years of life, I ain’t gonna do so if it just leads to pain and misery.”

Donald doesn’t swallow nervously as he looks between Carl and Sandra, but it’s a near thing. Finally though… Carl’s face splits into a hesitant, fragile sort of grin.

“Sounds… like something I’d be interested in doing.”

Sandra grins right back and puts out a hand.

“Then I suppose we have a deal.”

Rising from his bed, Carl steps forward to shake her outstretched hand. To her credit, Sandra doesn’t back away, though her eyes do widen as she finally gets to see his full hulking size.

“Shit, the picture definitely didn’t do you justice. I’m gonna need those treatments just to survive you, from the look of things.”

Donald blushes a bit at the insinuation. Carl though… Carl pauses before slowly shaking his head.

“I will never hurt you. I swear it.”

“… I believe you, hun.”

Well then. All was well that ended well, Donald supposed. Though he knew Cecil would eventually want to push for them to send a few more human women to Sandra’s Sanctuary in the coming years if not months. But that was a problem for Future Donald. For now… he had plenty of other Viltrumites to help out.

-x-X-x-

If you’d told him that matching up Carl with Sandra would be the easiest of his struggles, Donald… probably would have believed it, but he still would have despaired. And yet…

“It’s just… unfulfilling. Do you truly not have any women worth my while?”

Donald rubs his hand down his face before looking to the Viltrumite sitting across from him. ‘General’ Kregg was supposedly a high-ranking member of the Viltrumite Expedition. There were whispers among GDA’s analysts that he was probably second to only Argan himself. But when it came to being a pain in Donald’s ass, Kregg was second to none.

“We have presented you with over fifty different women, Kregg. All of them coming from different backgrounds and varied walks of life. Many of them have extremely different personalities as well. And none of them appeal to you?”

Kregg huffs and frowns, crossing his arms over his chest.

“… Tch, in the decade I spent on Flaxan, I enjoyed a few different dalliances there. Flaxan females who had fiery wills and inner strength, even if physically they were all quite weak. Politicians, soldiers, and more. Unfortunately, Viltrumites and Flaxans are incompatible. I could not produce a single child with any of my Flaxan lovers, or else I would not require your help. Still… you humans are proving to be quite… disappointing by comparison.”

Feeling a little defensive on his own species’ behalf, Donald frowns as he leans back in his chair.

“I don’t know what to tell you. There are billions of women on Earth. Hundreds of thousands will leap at the chance to be with you, given what we’re offering them. I’m sure we just haven’t found the right ones quite yet… you just need to give it more time.”

But Kregg is slowly shaking his head.

“No… no, time isn’t the problem. I know now what the problem is. You said it yourself… they will leap at the chance to be with me because of what you are offering them.”

Donald blinks, caught off guard by the Viltrumite’s emphasis.

“Ah… I’m not sure I understand.”

“Of course you don’t! It is not that the women you have sent my way aren’t aesthetically pleasing to be clear. Many of them are quite attractive! But they are all too eager.”

“Yes… that’s because they’ve all signed up for this.”

“Precisely! You and your organization are seeking to hand me my mates on a silver platter, but a mate is not given over like a gift… a mate is chased! A mate is earned! There is no thrill if there is no hunt!”

Mental images of Kregg going out and ‘hunting’ unsuspecting human women fill Donald with horror and he quickly shakes his head.

“Everyone needs to be consenting, Kregg. Your own leader Argan agreed to that. You cannot simply… take a woman off the street because you find her attractive.”

Kregg scoffs, looking offended.

“I am not suggesting that. I have been doing research on what you people call the ‘internet’.”

Oh god.

“I have discovered something called ‘dating’ as well as the concept of ‘dating apps’.”

Oh no.

“I have made myself an account on each of these ‘dating apps’ and have begun seeking out women in search of companionship.”

He sounded so proud of himself. For fuck’s sake.

“I will chase down my own mates… and once they have consented to join my bed of their own will because of my prowess, only then will I tell them about longer lifespan and other benefits from being my woman. It is the perfect solution!”

It was not the perfect solution… but Donald could already tell Kregg was unlikely to budge. And yet… Donald had been Cecil Stedman’s assistant and right hand man for decades now. He knew the art of careful negotiation. Leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him, Donald smiles blandly.

“That sounds like a great idea Kregg. Let’s discuss details.”

Please let him be able to salvage this mess before it turned into a full blown disaster.

-x-X-x-

“Thula, for the last time, you have to stop cutting people with your braid knife.”

Just when Donald thought Kregg was going to be his most challenging Viltrumite, one of the handful of females among the expedition was doing everything in her power to prove him wrong.

Sitting across from him, the knife at the end of her braid still covered in dried blood, Thula sniffs haughtily with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I do not see the problem. I did not kill him. I did not kill any of them, despite them all proving to be inadequate to my needs.”

Donald groans, running a hand down his face again.

“The problem is that most humans aren't into bloodletting as a bedroom activity! You aren’t going to attract very many mates this way at all.”

“That’s fine.”

Thula’s matter-of-fact response makes Donald want to groan but he manages to hold it in, just staring at her instead. After a moment she simply shrugs her shoulders uncaringly.

“I am female, Donald Ferguson. I do not need a harem of men. I only need one at a time to knock me up properly. I have been searching diligently for such a prospective mate since arriving on your world.”

… What? That sounded like she’d been going outside of their program for her. Had she started doing her own ‘research’ like Kregg had? Oh no, please say she hadn’t hurt anyone they couldn’t pay off and slap with a dozen NDAs…

“In fact, I believe I’ve already found exactly the man I need.”

Wait, what? Donald blinks at Thula’s suggestive tone and the sudden smile on her face. He doesn’t like that smile. He doesn’t like it for one bit.

For a split second, terror grips him as she stares at him meaningfully. Surely she wasn’t talking about him, right?!

“I… that’s very flattering Thula but I’m afraid I’m much too busy to-”

But Thula just scowls and scoffs at the idea.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not speaking of you, Donald Ferguson! You are perhaps a cut above the rest of the men on this planet, but you do not meet my standards either! No… there is only one human man who has proven himself worthy of me.”

Who the hell was she talking about? The Immortal? No, somehow Donald didn’t think that was it. But then, who could she possibly… mean…

Oh no. Surely not.

And then Thula leans forward and says something truly horrifying, even if Donald cannot quite explain why.

“I have done some research. I wish to learn how to bake.”

-x-X-x-

A/N: Hehehe, can you guess who Thula has set her sights on?

Throw me a comment if you can but please leave a Like if you don’t want to, it’s the main metric I use to track whether a story is doing well or not!

ALSO! If you have a Royal Road account please consider showing the RR version of this story some love. Every Five-Star Rating, Review, Favorite, and Follow helps! Though if you do leave me a review, please don't mention Patreon since I'm not allowed to advertise Patreon for fanfics on RR!

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/199384/inconceivable-invincible-au

-x-X-x-

Google Doc Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_wOCFAUeUCZ_V-9TVQ3gX1nN-NaikcjKi48WJFDfedo/edit?tab=t.0