The Impossibles
Copyright© 2025 by Dragon Cobolt
Chapter 4
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Bryant DeWitt is a normal kid in an abnormal world - a world of superheroes and villains, where magic and technology rub shoulders. He never *expected* to get superpowers - but when he does get cosmic powers, what he super double never expected was to learn that his boring family is actually The Impossibles - each one with unique powers and abilities, each famous in their own right! Now, Bryant has to learn on the go as he's tossed into the (surprisingly erotic) world of superheroics!
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa Fa/ft Ma/Ma Ma Fa mt ft Mult Teenagers Consensual Reluctant Romantic Gay Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual TransGender Fiction Superhero Aliens Extra Sensory Perception Robot Paranormal Furry Vampires Were animal Cheating Sharing Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter BDSM Rough Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Nudism
Bryant DeWitt was finding out just how long you could sit on a shocking revelation and still not have any idea what to say when the time finally came to talk about it. Two days ago, he had gotten superpowers and, after the dizzying series of revelations about his world, his family, and his newfound profession, ranging from the impressive to the profane ... and the one thing that seemed most important to talk about felt as impossible to bring up now as it had the moment he had learned it.
His father, Daniel DeWitt, was King of the Forest, famous superhero. That, Bryant’s mom knew. Since she was Lady Luck. They were married in both identities, just in the same way that the whole world knew that Nova Nine (aka, Bryant) was also Kid Impossible, the son of Mr. and Mrs. Impossible. That was all fine, in so far as it was fine that your Dad sometimes turned into a nudist anthropomorphic deer-man.
No, the issue was that Bryant had learned that his girlfriend, Melissa Sok, was a bit of a superhero groupie. While she had been dating him, she had also been sleeping with any superhero who she could catch the eye of.
Including, in this case, Nova Nine.
Aka him.
Bryant still felt a bit like he was going cross-eyed keeping that straight. His life already felt so complicated, and he wasn’t even on day three!
... right, also, Melissa had dropped the bombshell hat she had also fucked King of the Forest. Again. Day three. This was just day three.
Nova Nine was thinking that over and over again as Lady Luck and he arrived at ‘your first job’ – the two of them stepping off the garbage truck that Lady Luck had grabbed onto to ride and hopped off at a seemingly random moment, landing directly before where she had planned to get to. Luck powers, and all that. Nova had offered to teleport her with his powers, but she had pointed out that it wouldn’t be a fun surprise if she told him where they were going before they got there.
He couldn’t argue with that.
“So, uh, there’s just ... one...” Nova trailed off, blinking at the Century City General Hospital. Lady Luck stretched her arms behind her back, arching her spine as she sighed, her impressively full tits heaving up with her motion. “ ... why are we at a hospital? I’d thought we’d be in Crime Alley or something.”
“Crime Alley has really turned itself around, ever since Mayor Dragonheart used his golden hoard to fund that gun buyback program,” Mom said, cheerfully. “And besides, you can reconstitute matter with your mind, beating up muggers seems like a shocking waste of your talents.”
Nova opened his mouth, his ears twitching up and down as he realized that that had also been bothering him. He still was trying to think of which to say first well, duh or uh, well or Mom, I think Dad was cheating on you with my girlfriend? when Mom clapped her hands together and said. “Follow me!”
They entered in through the front door, capes swishing, and were met by the administrator of the hospital – he was a balding man with the two stud-scars for someone who had undergone one of the Deinhardt Administration Neural Restructuring procedures. He had a face like a shark – all sharp lines and predatory angles, but softened by age and his bemused smile into a shark that had gone vegetarian. “Welcome, welcome,” he said, taking Mom’s hand. “We’re so glad you’re here.”
“Of course, Administrator Blume,” Mom said. “This is my son, Nova Nine, he’s here for his first real job. He got into a bit of a scuffle yesterday.” She smiled, ruffling his hair.
“Momm!” Nova groaned – she had to actually stand up a bit on her toes to reach the top of his head for maximum mothering.
“Congratulations on your superpowers,” Administrator Blume said. “Now, uh, what are they?”
“Molecular and energy manipulation, largely intuitive,” Mom said. “But we’ve gotten him a crash course in basic physics, chemistry, and some biology.”
The books had been pretty fascinating. Though, part of it was that ... well ... Nova hadn’t told his parents, but he found out that he could feel every molecule in an object. So, that meant it was relatively simple to just scan the book with his powers, find the raised ink, then transmit all of the data contained in that directly into his brain. It had felt a little bit like licking an electrical outlet, but the end result was that he had basically devoured three hefty textbooks and still had time to freak out about his personal relationships and growing list of alarming secrets.
“Perfect!” Administrator Blume said. “Come!” He turned and started to walk off. As they walked after, Nova leaned in, whispering.
“Sooo ... should I ... mention the...” He made a vague gesture towards the forehead.
“No, no, they edited out his desire to make a profit in 2016 and even with the cybernetics removed, he’s still a great administrator for health care services.” Mom nodded. “You know, I disapprove of the supervillainy, but I do approve of the overhaul in healthcare. I just think if the president was that smart, she could have come up with a better method than neural restructuring, you know?”
Nova considered, for a moment, pondering the complex moral wreckage left behind by America’s first and most popular supervillain president. Then he ditched it in favor of worrying about things that actually mattered, like his life.
The Administrator, then, opened a door that led into a large, rather strange looking room. Nova had always imagined that pretty much every hospital room had the same general vibe – bed, place for a doctor to sit, scale to tell you how fat you had gotten so the doctor could yell at you, that kind of thing. But this was simply a long, relatively narrow tube of a room with a bed every few feet, with a very sick person per bed. There were IV tubes running to them, bleeping machines monitoring them, and small checklists hanging off the foot of each bed.
“All right,” Administrator Blume said, gesturing to the beds. “Here are our worst cases, organized from worst to least worst.”
“T-This lady has terminal brain cancer,” Nova whispered, taking the chart off the head. He looked at Mom. She gave him a big thumbs up. “ ... you’re here to help me not mess up, right?”
She nodded, then added a second thumbs up to her first.
“Right.” Nova hesitated. He had to admit, he hadn’t expected this – even with the hospital, it still felt a bit like he had been given a hamburger and bitten in to taste hot dog. It wasn’t even that he disliked hot dog, it’s just ... it was just wrong! It tasted weird! He started by holding his hand out and focusing. And for just a moment, he was thrown by how normal the woman’s body felt. Her molecules were all in the right spot, everything was humming in the right way. Then he kicked himself. Cancer wasn’t wrong on the level of neutrons and positrons. It was wrong in a higher, messier level. He tried to ratchet his ‘perspective’ out, and after cocking his head slightly ... he felt it.
There was the wrongness. He could feel the connections of her body, the way it was laying – the way it was laboring. He could feel the ... crackling, crinkling feeling of something vast and energetic and more fragile than anything he had ever touched. It was like holding an egg made of a million tiny diamonds laced together by the hair of a baby angel. Merely breathing wrong would snap one thread and the entire thing would fall apart.
That’s... He thought. That’s her...
Soul? Some people called them that. Consciousness pattern. Quantum quantum wibbly bibbly.
Whatever you called it, Nova was hit in the chest by the weight of this responsibility. He could feel it.
Nova breathed out slowly.
And gently, gently, he began to turn cancerous cells to healthy. He started to transport the mass out of her brain, teasing apart neurons at the atomic level to make sure he didn’t upset a single inch of her brain. Then he started to quest through her body. The metastasized cancer cells in her blood stream, her bones, her lungs. Gone. Gone. Gone. It felt like he was a rampaging army, unstoppable, powerful. Then he shifted his focus, lowering his hand. The woman sat up, yawning and stretching – accidentally tugging the IV a few inches closer.
“How long was I out?” she asked, blinking and looking down at her hands. “Hey! Lady Luck!”
“Hi!” Mom waved from the sideline.
“How ... long did that take?” Nova asked.
“About three minutes!” Mom said – which threw Nova, it had felt both far longer and far shorter at the same time, somehow. “Did you check every part of her? Did you check the lungs?”
“Yes, Mom,” Nova said, flushing, his ears pinning back against his head. The woman was helped to her feet by two nurses who entered into the room and guided her out, their voices soft. Nova blinked a few times, then turned back to Mom. “ ... do you do this kind of thing every day?”
“I’m no good at healing,” Mom said, cheerfully. “I can help another healer, so, I usually sit in on surgical things. I’m also great factories. It takes me abouuuut fifteen seconds per factory to save approximately ten thousand lives a year!” She puffed up her chest, her smile playful. “The statistics are pretty remarkable – lots of faults getting caught, lots of errors never getting through the product line. A bunch of people who would die from unexpected flaws in machinery those factories make, all alive, thanks to me. And I barely had to do anything. Just manipulate probability a little, away from entropy, towards order. Easy peasy.”
Nova brushed his hand through his hair. “And this doesn’t get into the comic books because...”
“To quote your sister,” Mom said, leaning in, whispering. “It’s hecka boring.”
“Corvi does not say hecka, and you know it, Mom.”
Mom grinned. “Now, come on, get to work. They don’t not pay us to stand around!”
And so went the rest of Nova’s day at the hospital. Some people had more than just a cancer wrong with them – some of them were broken in ways that made cancer look like a head cold. One man had fallen into a dimensional compactor at the local widget factory, and his body currently existed across and through several inimical dimensional barriers. The fact that the hospital was able to keep him alive while his liver and lungs were interpolated into the Z axis was pretty fucking impressive, and detangling that matrix of energy and matter took more focus than Nova had ever expended on anything – there was a terrifying moment where the dimensional planes felt like they were going to skid apart and the man would fall part into a haze of quarks, but Nova caught it at the very last second and then gently eased him into this universe completely. With a plaid-like haze of colors, the man flickered between several versions of himself before snapping back to normal.
I think they fucked that triage up, make a note to tell the doctor once you’re done.
“Oh thank you! Thank you!” He shook Nova’s hand, while Nova shot a covert look at his mother, who grinned and winked at him – but, ever so subtly, he could spot the sign of strain on her face. It eased a moment later, but for that second, he knew they had worked together as closely as any surgical team.
Cancer. Cancer. Long Covid. Man caught in a stasis field seconds before an antimatter beam hit him. The cases kept going – bouncing wildly between the mundanely horrible to the alarmingly exotic. And once Nova had reached the end of the line, he felt the kind of tired that only came from a really hard job that didn’t look like work. It was like people who had crunched numbers to stop the Y2K bug from hitting the second singularity threshold, or someone who worked at an MMORPG’s backend. It looked like just a lot of finger wiggling, and Nova couldn’t really say which part exhausted him ... and yet, at the end, he slumped backwards onto a chair that happened to be there and groaned.
“This is hard,” he said, panting. “Do all heroes do this?”
“No, only cool ones,” Mom said. “The bricks, like Legacy II and Paragon, are usually on power station duty.”
“ ... power station?” Nova asked.
“Ya know, jogging on a big hamster wheel to run an electromagnet,” Mom said. “They charge capacitors in countries that haven’t built their ZPM reactors yet.”
“ ... really?” Nova asked.
“Yup!” Mom said.
“How the hell do we keep up kayfabe?”
Mom giggled. “Have you ever heard of professional wrestling?”
“ ... no...” Nova said, his brow furrowing.
“So, in the before times, back in the long long ago, roughly ... five years before Legacy I really stepped out and shook everything up, when superheroes were just goobers kicking up near to the Determination Threshold and everything was fisticuffs and gadgets, there was a sport called professional wrestling,” Mom said. “And in it, everyone kinda knew it was fake. But they bought in because it’s just more fun to think that it’s true.” She shrugged.
“Blissful illusions?” Nova asked, standing up.
“The world’s a scary place, if you look at it rationally,” Mom said, shrugging. “Humans have been making up ways to deal with it since we were banging rocks together – be it gods, the afterlife, the concept of fate, stories of heroes and legends. They help us contextualize the chaos and fear of our world and make it all seem a little less scary. Cause if you really just sit there and think about it, the immediate rational response is to curl up into a ball and cry!” She put her hand on his shoulder. “But with a handful of comics, you can at the very least go down swinging.”
Nova blinked at her, his ears quivering.
“Mom, I’m not sure if that helped or just made me more scared?”
“Hah!” She slung her arm around his arm, dragging him towards the front door of the hospital. She leaned in, her voice soft. “One way to help is to remember you’re not exactly human anymore. You get all the perks of being in the story!”
“ ... and the downsides?”
“We try and minimize those,” Mom said, firmly. “That’s what the past twenty years have all been about. But ... they’re there.” She sighed. “Hopefully, you’ll get a good long training period under your belt before your first Event.”
The capital e in Event was audible, even to an inexperienced ear like Nova Nine’s. It didn’t take an A+ in civics class to know what those were. Nova shivered, despite the sunny afternoon that they emerged into.
“Now,” Mom said as a scrap of paper blew into her ankle. She picked it up and unfurled it, revealing that the splatters and muck that the paper had blown through had smeared and blurred the advertising that the paper had once been into a near perfect replica of her handwriting, creating an already half finished to do list – with check marks on the take N9 to hospital and give him the talk about heroic legends and mythos to contextualize his newfound transhuman potential and under that, unchecked, was practice powers and edge cases. She turned to him. “So, powers and edge cases-”
“Wait, Mom. I ... there’s just ... before we do anything more, I want to talk about ... um...” Nova blushed.
“Sure!” she said. “What did you want to talk about?”
They stood there in perfect stillness. A few pedestrians ambled by on the sidewalk across from them, and a car skimmed by on a cushion of glowing agrav energies.
“ ... uh, can we go somewhere private?” Nova asked.
“Sure!” Mom said, nodding, though now her eyes were having that distinct ‘nervous’ crinkle to the corners. Nova snapped his fingers and, with a crackling snarl of tearing air, a portal ripped open to the Impossimansion. This was better choice for privacy – so long as they stuck to the third floor, as the first two were currently being remodeled by contractors – because nearly everyone in the family was still living at their old home, which was in the process of being sold as they transitioned into their new house. There, Nova rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.
“So, uh, t-two nights ago, after S’eats, something happened...”
“Ahh,” Mom said, nodding. “Okay, honey, before you freak out, that’s totally normal.”
Nova froze. Then he shook his head. “N-No, uh, I mean, I should tell you-”
“A soupie threw herself at you,” Mom said, her cheeks having a faint red tinge to them despite her matter of fact tone.
“Wait, they actually call themselves that?” Nova asked, his eyes widening.
“Yup! Super Groupie, Soupie!”
Nova chuckled and then opened his mouth to try and continue the story – but then he heard the unmistakable soft whirring noise of his sister Starflight coming up the stairs on her hoverjets. Mom, hearing it too, took his arm and yanked him into a private room, the door closing and ... well, it was his room. Which made sense. Of course, this made him think of how he had slunk back in here after cheating on himself, with himself, and then jerked himself off for almost an hour remembering how good and tight Melissa had felt.
Superhero stamina. It had its downsides and its upsides.
He blushed hard as Mom continued. “So, it’s ... well, it’s not good exactly, that you’ve cheated on your girlfriend. Melissa is a sweetie.” She paused. “ ... but...”
“But?” Nova asked.
“W-well, it’s just, you know, superheroes are often in athletic situations. Adrenaline gets pumping. We’re all gorgeous. I mean, even the heroes that used to consider themselves ugly are gorgeous. Like, Sloppy Joe is an old timer from the 60s, and he’s learned over the years that some girls really are into acidic slime boys.” She nodded sagely. “Fortunately, boys too. Sloppy Joe is bisexual, he, uh, actually was at Stonewall, you know?”
Mom is babbling, Nova thought. She’s just as embarrassed as I am. Huh.
Which did make this a bit easier.
“So, uh, who did you end up plowing?” Mom asked. “I mean, no, I, sorry, that was the wrong question, I’m sorr-”
“Melissa,” Nova admitted, sitting on the bed with a thump.
“Oh!” Mom said. Then, her voice shifting from embarrassed-helpful mom to worried-annoyed mom tones, she said: “Nova ... you need to keep your secret identity s-”