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Chapter Text

The alternating purple and yellow string lights connecting the big striped tent to the countless wooden booths obscured the view of the stars in the dusk sky. The rollercoaster that surrounded half the carnival was modeled after a snowy mountain range and the screams from it clashed with the stock ambience music. Bells and whistles from the various games complemented the accordion riff people expected from a setting like this. The scent of popcorn and pretzels left a salty aftertaste in Steve’s mouth.

“This should be familiar. Right, Rogers?” Tony asked, “Pop-up carnivals haven’t changed that much in 100 years, though I hope you weren’t looking forward to the freakshow. They kinda fell out of fashion. C’mon, can’t you ditch the old man frowning for one night?”

Tony kept goading him as Steve took the time to scan the area.

“It’s no Coney Island...looks more like a Pleasure Island.” Steve commented as he touched the sticky dried beer puddles on the bench. He didn’t even remember how they got here. Did they drive? Take the quinjet? Or was Steve just dreaming again?

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Just listen to your conscience so that you don’t turn into an ass.” Natasha slapped him on the back and offered him a classic carnival treat, “Cotton candy?”

Steve looked at the big pink cloud swirled on a tiny paper cone. He took it in one hand while the other grabbed his utility belt. That was another thing. He was in his Captain America uniform, save for the helmet. Why was he in uniform for a day off at the fair?

“Oh, check it out, Cap! They got the strength test!” Spider-Man pulled Steve’s arm towards the classic carnival game. There was the bell, the mallet, and the tall board that judged the power of your swing.

“The Strongman…” Steve let out a small embarrassed chuckle, “I haven’t tried one of those since before I got the serum.”

He remembered how embarrassed he was when he could barely pick up the heavy mallet back then. He didn’t even truly swing onto the metal plate as much as he did drop the thing. The bar jumped a mere couple inches above the “Floppy Noodle” title. Bucky laughed his ass off.

“Time to redeem yourself, c’mon!” Spidey continued to pull him until they were in line, “Let’s find out who's stronger, you or me!”

The line wasn’t very long, despite the carnival itself getting more crowded. There were people of different nationalities walking around, speaking their native tongues. He recognized a lot of Japanese being spoken in the crowd. Were they in California right now? He also noticed that the other guests were rather young. High school age, it seemed, college at most. That made enough sense. Back in his day, Coney Island was mainly for young adults, especially couples. But now, amusement parks are for everyone of all ages, especially parents and their children. As they waited in line, he saw almost no families, and maybe one young child. He finished his cotton candy by the time it was Spider-Man’s turn to play.

“C’mon, kid. Put your back into it.” Steve cheered him on as Spidey firmly grasped the mallet. Steve looked at the Strongman game expecting an updated version with bright lights and an LED screen, but he was shocked to see it was the same one he knew. The exact same Strongman, like it had been pulled from Coney Island circa 1940. No lights, just a wooden bar stretching up several feet in the air, with “Floppy Noodle” marking the bottom line.

Spider-Man grunted as he took his swing and struck the metal plate. The bar went up and up, but just barely missed the bell at the top.

“Oooh, you got to John Henry! You’re stronger than you look, kid!” The lady running the booth congratulated him, “That’s worth 500 tickets.”

“Heh, thanks. That thing’s harder than it looks.” Spider-Man commented as he took his gold winning tickets and kept them wrapped around his wrist to make them easier to carry around.

“I guess so.” Steve said as he walked up for his turn. That was also strange. Parker was strong enough to catch an airline luggage carrier above his head, but he couldn’t beat the carnival game meant for the average man? Maybe his mother was right about these games. They were rigged from the beginning.

“You’re up, Captain Rogers.” The lady handed him the mallet with a smile. She looked up and down at him with adoration, so she was probably one of his fans. He still didn’t know how to handle having those. He went from invisible to the center of attention overnight. It was jarring, to say the least. But he was here to have fun just like everyone else. He didn’t want any special treatment or special attention.

He looked up at the Strongman like an old foe, twisting the mallet around in his grip. The humiliation from long ago still stung, but at least back then he had Bucky to laugh with. After his miserable defeat, they got hot dogs and went to the beach afterwards. They laid on the sand and felt the tide pull on their legs until they had to catch the last train. The cars on the rollercoaster chugged along far behind him, with the screams fading in and out as the ride dipped into its deepest descent.

Steve inhaled and raised the mallet over his head with both arms. He swung down and smacked the metal plate with as much force as he could muster. The bar flew up towards the sky and hit the brass bell at the top, ringing loudly into the air.

“Wow!” The lady cheered, “You hit Hercules! I’ve never seen anyone hit it before!”

“You did it, Cap! That’s awesome!” Spider-Man cheered for him, even though that meant he technically lost the contest.

“Well, I think I had an unfair advantage.” Steve said, not truly believing his victory.

“No, trust me. We already know about your super strength. We calibrated it for that already.” The lady insisted.

“Oh.” Steve said, feeling some relief that he didn’t “cheat” this game. Spider-Man looked relieved too, since he was starting to worry that he was losing his touch, “So, how many tickets?”

“For you? It’s not a matter of tickets.” The lady explained, “You’re a grand prize winner! That means you go straight to the grand prize floor.”

“Oh, I don’t have to do that right now, I still wanted to check out some of the rides first.” Steve tried to brush her off, but her smile remained, and her eyes grew a little more excited.

“Of course, and you’ll still have time to do it all, but the rules say that once you win a grand prize, you have to claim it from the prize room as soon as possible. It keeps things in order so no one gets their prizes mixed up.” The lady explained.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to mess up the system.” Steve said to be polite, but only grew more suspicious.

“Great, let’s go get your prize and then check out some of the spinning rides! I promise I won’t throw up on you.” Spider-Man said before asking the lady, “Where is the prize room, exactly?”

“It’s in the resort, by the pier.” The lady pointed to the tall building towards the end of the booths. Then, she pulled out her radio, “I’ll call someone to escort you.”

“That’s alright, we can w-” Steve tried to turn down her offer, but in the blink of an eye, a man in a purple security guard outfit appeared and took him by the arm.

“Right this way, Captain Rogers.” The guard flashed him a yellow smile between a knotted chin and wispy moustache. He walked him towards the resort in question. Steve got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but if he fought the guy off now, he’d miss out on what was in the resort. He wanted to know that much before alerting the others that something was wrong. At least he had Spider-Man here as back-up so that he wasn’t going alone.

As they walked through the carnival grounds, Steve tried to look at the other attractions available. He caught a glimpse of the creepy clown entrance to the funhouse, with its large engulfing mouth and crooked teeth. The booths housed several other games like skee ball, basketball, a dunk tank, ring toss, and a shooting gallery. There was also a kissing booth, where people were lined up to get a smooch from...he couldn’t see who it was.

The guard pulled them further away from all these attractions, until it all blurred together into a mess of blinking lights, winning noises, and laughter. When they reached the resort, they walked to the elevator, but the purple guard stopped Spider-Man before he could walk in.

“And this is as far as you go, skipper.” The guard told him as he pushed his hand against the spider on his suit, “Grand prize winners only from this point.”

“I’m not gonna get anything, I’ll just look!” Spider-Man tried to bargain so as not to let Steve go alone.

“You can come up when you win a grand prize.” The guard told him with a crooked smile, “But cheer up. You’ll make it, kid. I can tell just by lookin’ at ya.”

“Right...I guess I’ll just go back to the park, then...Meet us after, okay? Mr. Stark and I wanna check out the rollercoaster.” Spider-Man said to Cap over the guard’s shoulder.

“Yeah, go tell Tony I’ll be right with you.” Cap responded as the guard came back into the elevator and unlocked the panel with his keys. Clearance codes for the elevator? At a seaside resort? It had to be a front. But for what? The doors shut, and it was just the two of them. Steve stood a respectful distance away from the guard, folding his hands in front of himself as he looked in the corner. This elevator had music, almost like the old days, but it was more modern. It sounded electronic with a bubblegum pop beat.

The elevator came to a sudden halt, and the music stopped with it. The floor screen was distorted, caught between 9 and 10. The doors opened to a room of complete darkness, save for one figure in the shadows with their back turned to them.

“H-Help me...someone…” A weak voice came from that person, a young woman’s voice.

“Ma’am?” Steve instinctively walked out of the elevator to approach her, but as he stepped closer to her, she gasped and walked further away. He stopped walking and saw she stopped as well. He took one step. She took one step.

“I need your help, Cap.” The young woman said. From here, he could see her sandy blonde hair that rested on her shoulders as soft curls. She wore a tattered aviator jacket with a short olive green pleated skirt. He saw bruises and dried blood running down her legs.

“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath, Miss. Tell me what’s wrong.” Steve said calmly, trying to ease the fear in her voice.

“Turn around.” She requested, without turning to face him.

“You don’t have to be afraid. Just tell me who did this to you.” Steve said, holding his hands out.

“Just turn around, please.” The woman requested again, her voice shaking like she was crying. If he was really quiet, he could hear her thumping heartbeat.

Steve did just that, turning so he could ask the guard in the elevator just who she was and what all of this was, but instead of the elevator, he saw the girl in front of him, her back still turned to him. He went quiet. He turned back around and she switched back to where she was. Some kind of illusion? Was this girl even real? Now, he was sure it was a trap.

“Elevator closes in 10 seconds, Captain.” The purple guard warned him, “If you’re trying to solve a puzzle, there isn’t one.”

“What is this place?!” Steve demanded.

“The prize floor.” He explained, “Either you claim your prize or this ravishing young lady keeps enjoying hers.”

Steve huffed and touched the shield on his back. He turned back around, letting the young woman stand between him and the elevator. He ran towards the doors, letting her run inside first, but before the doors shut, he threw his shield to block them from closing. Except it didn’t work. Instead of getting wedged between the metal elevator doors, the shield phased right through them, like they weren’t even there. His shield disappeared along with the elevator that held the guard and the girl, and suddenly he was alone.

He stood in the darkness, frozen in his throwing stance. A cold sweat broke down his neck. Hopefully, Spider-Man was gathering the others to get help, because his hunch was right. This place was bad news, but he didn’t know just how bad.

Rows of lights began to turn on in succession, illuminating a catwalk. Steve tried to defiantly walk away from the lighted path, but then he saw the steps under his feet were lighting up as well. Every step he took lit another panel. He tried running, but they still lit up until one wrong step sent him tumbling into a dark abyss. He waved his limbs around until he could brace for a landing. He didn’t scream until he finally hit the surface of freezing cold water.

He sank in and thrashed around to swim to the surface, but the top was sealed shut. He tried to swim around but ended up hitting barriers on all sides. It was like he was trapped in a water tank. Suddenly, more lights came on, and he could finally see where he was, on a round stage, surrounded by an audience, under the big striped tent. He was the main attraction of the circus.

He could only hold his breath for so long in what he could now see was a pink fluid. It felt more viscous than normal water, and when he was forced to take a breath, he found that he could actually breathe in it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give a round of applause to our new grand prize winner, Captain America himself, Steve Rogers!” A female voice announced to the packed audience that roared in applause. He just focused on trying to punch through the glass with all his might, but all he got was loud thumps. No cracks.

“Oooh, looks like he’s a feisty one! We like that, don’t we?” The announcer jested, which made the audience laugh. She finally came to the stage with a smile. It was the same woman who operated the Strongman game, but this time she wore the garb of a Ringleader with a red tailcoat and a black top hat. She posed with a decorated cane in front of his tank.

“Before we continue, let’s take a moment to appreciate all that Ms. Jones did for the carnival. Now, Amelia was a rare breed whereas she was designed canonically by the creator. When we brought Alfred in here, my work was already cut out for me to get Amelia. And she looked wonderful. I was already a fan of the aviator jacket, but the busty midriff and the short skirt?” The Ringleader puckered up for a chef’s kiss, “Couldn’t have designed her better myself.”

She was referring to the girl from earlier, the one who escaped on the elevator. But what did she mean by “designed canonically?” Like biblical canon?

“As much as we’ll miss her, I think you’ll find Captain Rogers to be a fine replacement. He’s just as filled with the American Spirit as she was. He’s probably the only person who will ever come as close to her. And there’s several ways we can work with him. I could just take his memories away and switch out the suit, and we’d already have something delicious.” The Ringleader continued, “And that would be fine. For a first prize winner. But this is the grand prize! Let’s give him the full treatment!”

The audience cheered louder and Steve floated in the liquid in only more confusion and dread. He tried to look for any cracks or weak points in the glass where he could break it.

“Let’s start with the body. Okay, so Cap here already has a nice dip in the waist area that makes his chest and hips look wider in comparison, but it’s still clearly a very masculine form. We need to fix that.” The Ringleader snapped her fingers and Steve clenched in pain as his body stretched and contracted in different areas, his screams manifesting as bubbles in the fluid.

“I’m keeping the butt. The butt is great, and the chest already had a good start, but we want a rack that would make a milk maid jealous!”

Steve gritted his teeth and grunted as his chest expanded, stretching out into the hefty bosom she described. He tried to squeeze his pectorals in restraint, but he could feel the soft flesh manifest against his fingers as they stretched his suit. Wolf whistles and hollers rang out through the audience.

“Oof, I’m already drooling. Now, let’s cinch the waist and widen the hips just a tad more. I don’t want to stray too much from the original material.”

“Aah-Ah!” Steve groaned in pain and his eyes squeezed shut as the muscles around his torso contracted, bringing his waist in tighter and rounding out his hips. Now the red and white stripes on his abdomen were more curved instead of straight.

“Okay, let’s move onto the face. Like I said, I don’t like to change too much from what I’ve been given, especially with a beautiful face like this. Look at that, his eyelashes are already so delicate and his lips so pink and luscious. But, I found the proper model. Give us the face worthy of Deadpool’s love, give us some Blake Lively!” She announced, and with a few small adjustments, surprisingly less painful than he expected, he had the face of the star from the hit series Gossip Girl and featured in such timeless films like Age of Adaline, The Town, and The Shallows.

“Time for the finishing touches. The hair. Now I could keep this short haircut. That is a fashionable choice for the modern woman, but Steve here is an old-fashioned man. So as Stephanie, I think it would only be fitting that she have a hairstyle fitting a classic 40’s beauty such as herself. Let’s grow it out down to just below her bustline in cascading curls.”

Steve instinctively touched his head as he felt his hair grow rapidly until he could run his fingers through the long strands of golden blonde hair. This had to be a dream. A terrible nightmare he’d hopefully wake up from. If it wasn’t, then magic or some complicated super science or had to be at work here.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something.” The Ringleader tapped on her lips before she smacked her own head, “Oh, duh! I want her to be able to have babies, of course! They make great drama, and I know someone with a heart as golden as hers will love them no matter what.”

She tapped on the glass with her cane, directing it in the direction of his crotch. Steve gasped, but he couldn’t even describe the sensation that overwhelmed him. He just felt a painful churning in his privates before he passed out completely.

“Oof, I guess that was her limit.” The Ringleader commented as she noticed her subject lose consciousness, “Aw, it’s okay. It’s cute when she’s out cold.”

The audience laughed and chattered among themselves as they looked at the new and “improved” Captain.

“Thank you all, you’ve been a magnificent audience. Before we end the show, we have to finish up with the bidding for our grand prize winner!” The Ringleader announced.

Several hands went up holding their rolls of crimson red tickets.

“Ooo, I knew we’d have a lot of takers for this one. Let’s start with 10 tickets. Whose got ten tickets?”

Several hands went down, but plenty still remained.

“Okay, 20 tickets? Who’s got 20 tickets?”

Only a few more hands went down, and there was still too many left to count.

“Oof, you guys don’t fuck around. Let’s jump that up to 100 tickets! Whose got 100 tickets?”

Now it was down to just a small handful.

“Okay, 200? How about 250? 300? 500?”

Then, it came down to four hands.

“How about 1,000 tickets?”

Three hands. All gloved.

“2,000 tickets?”

The gold and green gloves disappeared. Only a sole black gloved hand remained.

“We have a winner!”

The black leather-coated man who won the auction confidently strolled out of his seat and made his way to the stage where the Ringleader handed him a large mallet. Before he took his swing, the man took a moment to look at his prize in the glass and pet the glass.

“At last, Captain America. You finally belong to me.” The man gloated with a toothy smile.

“Congratulations, Herr Schmidt. Or should I call you Red Skull?” The Ringleader asked.

“It matters not, Fraulein. The rest of the preparations are in order, correct?” The Red Skull asked as he swiveled the mallet in his grip.

“Of course. 341 Cherry Street, right at the end of the cul de sac. White picket fence and everything. All yours.” The Ringleader tossed him a pair of house keys. He caught them with his free hand and stuffed them in his long coat pocket before swinging at the glass tank.

One strike was enough to crack the glass. A second strike made enough creases to create a few leaks. The third and final strike shattered the glass pane completely, to the thunderous applause of the audience. The liquid rushed out, washing the unconscious Stephanie Rogers onto the stage. She flopped on the ground in front of the Red Skull, her hair and uniform drenched in the pink fluid. He stepped across the wet floor to collect his prize, picking her up bridal style, which earned him even more applause and whistles from the audience.

“When you awake, dear Captain, your old life will be completely gone.” The Red Skull said to her as he walked off stage towards the exit, “All you will remember is your life as my Frau Schmidt, the mother to my superior breed of offspring, my heirs to Hydra! Hail Hydra!”

“Hail...Hydra…” Stephanie’s voice murmured as she slowly came too.

Chapter Text

Peter stood back from the elevator once it closed. As it carried Cap and the guard up the building, his danger sense was tingling nonstop. He dashed across the outdated resort lobby and out the swinging doors. There, he had a choice to make, either scale the building to the different floors of the resort and look for them himself or run back to the carnival and get backup like he said he would. He started with the first plan and stuck onto the outside of the building, climbing up the outer gate. This particular resort had a castle structure, like the one at Disneyland, but a lot more rundown and a lot less colorful. Did it look like that when they walked in? He couldn’t remember. There were a lot of smaller towers, but he had to guess that the biggest tower in the center was where the elevator was.

Peter pulled down his mask over his face and shot his webs from both hands. If he stuck to two of the smaller towers, he could slingshot himself closer to the big tower. He watched the webbing soar out towards the castle, but...they didn’t meet their targets. They fell just short of the towers.

“Huh?” Peter asked himself, “Did I get the distance wrong? Maybe I need to get a little closer.”

He crouched on the top of the gate and launched himself forward, but the towers drifted further away. He tried to shoot his webs again, but they didn’t even come close. He jumped towards it, but only landed in the sand, outside of the gate altogether. Looking up, the castle was even farther away. He looked behind and there was the carnival again. He was only a few footsteps away from the exit where he’d left it. Looks like he didn’t have much of a choice but to go back inside.

He ran under the striped arch with the colorful banners, moving onto Plan B, which was technically Plan A until he had felt compelled to try to tackle this on his own. A sorry mistake, because not only did he know nothing about this place, but he might have lost precious time that he needed to help Cap.

And then he had a bigger problem, the carnival was filled with even more people than before! How was he supposed to find Iron Man in this crowd? When he was just a little kid, he was told that if he ever got separated from his parents or his aunt and uncle, that he had to go to the nearest police officer and ask for their help. But if they were anything like that purple guard, then that was the last thing he wanted to do. So, he did the other thing any kid would do, besides start crying.

He climbed to higher ground to get a better look at the crowd. Luckily, the snowy rollercoaster surrounded half the carnival and stood taller than everything else, save for the giant red tent in the center. He climbed up the bars and rails and looked for any attractions that would pique Tony’s interest, all while calling out,

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!”

If Captain America was able to win a grand prize, then Iron Man should be able to. If Cap won the Strongman, then Tony would probably win either a brain game or a shooting game. So, Peter swung over to the rows of gaming booths that were outlined with stuffed animal prizes. He kept calling Tony’s name and asking around if anyone had spotted Tony Stark anywhere. It felt weird to ask something like that. Mr. Stark was so famous that there should be a crowd around him already. He didn’t understand how he went this long without starting a ruckus. Finally, he spotted his signature sunglasses and beard playing Skee ball with a margarita in hand.

“C’mon corner pockets, let’s win us another big bunny.” Tony muttered to himself as he rolled his ball with a curve to try to get one of the 10,000 point holes. But he overshot it, and it rolled down to the measly 100 point hole.

“Damn! New game.” Tony took a sip of his margarita before Peter came rushing behind him.

“Mr. Stark! I wouldn’t drink that!” Peter shouted as he almost bumped into him.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re underaged.” Tony said as he took an even bigger sip, tasting the salt on the rim of the cup.

“I’m serious. There’s something wrong with this place. I was with Cap and he won a grand prize at the hammer game and then this creepy looking guard took us to this castle but he said I couldn’t go with Cap because I didn’t win a grand prize, so he took Cap away and now I don’t know where they went or what they’re doing to him, but my Spider senses tell me it isn’t good!” Peter tried to explain.

“Everyone who works at a carnival is creepy, kid. It’s part of the charm.” Tony drank even more, “Oh, that’s definitely Patrón.”

“Cap told me to come get you.” Peter said.

“Did he now?” Tony asked.

“Well...not technically, but he said it with his eyes. He knows something’s off here. So we got to get to the castle and check it out ourselves. I just know that Cap needs our help. I can feel it.”

“Okay, you win. Show me where this castle is.” Tony said. He followed behind Peter who walked back the way he came towards the bannered exit that led to the castle. Unfortunately, once again, the landscape around him had changed, and the exit was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t even see the castle in the distance, just glimpses of the beach past the rollercoaster.

“Geez, you’d think your spider senses would give you a better sense of direction.” Tony commented.

“Hold on...that lady at the Strongman knew where it was. I’ll just ask someone who works here.” Peter said. He looked for the closest employee and found the same woman from before, only now she was working the bar.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Peter caught her attention when she was in the middle of pouring off the cream to a white russian.

“Yes, sir. How can I help you?” The woman smiled attentively, but not warmly.

“You were there when Captain America won a prize, right? Can you tell us how to get back to the castle where he went?” He asked.

“I’m so sorry, but the castle only becomes available when we have prize winners.” She explained.

“But that doesn’t...I got these tickets, don’t I? Can’t I cash them in for something? It doesn’t have to be a grand prize.” Peter pulled the roll of tickets he won at the Strongman.

“You could do that, but if you want to join Captain Rogers on the grand prize floor, I’m afraid you’d have to win a grand prize first. And those are very hard to get.” The lady said.

“Okay, ma’am.” Peter spoke more seriously, “I don’t want to make a scene or anything, but honestly, I think Cap is in danger. So it’s very important that I get to the grand prize floor before it’s too late.”

“I understand you’re worried. But the rules are the rules.” She asserted, “Besides, I’m confident that Captain America can handle anything thrown he-his way.”

“Alright, my turn.” Tony scooted Peter aside so he could try to talk to the woman himself. He stood close to her ear in a loud whisper, “Look, I know that most of these games are rigged to win or lose based on the number of plays. The kid’s having a hard day so if you could just point us towards the machine most likely to give him a prize, I’ll hook you up with a better gig than this dog and pony show. How does summers working in the Bahamas sound to you?”

“Mmm, sounds nice, but a little too safe.” The woman responded, pinching her own cheeks as she immediately dismissed it. Then, her phone buzzed in her shirt pocket. She excused herself for a moment to check her messages. Her eyes widened with great interest as she scrolled through an important chat. Then, she put her phone away and returned to the guests.

“Okay, so the circumstances have changed. Follow me.” She guided them towards a small rickety machine towards the end of the gaming booths, ignored by all who preferred the flashier and more challenging games. It was an old-fashioned love tester. The brass handle connected to a panel of lights. Similar to the Strongman, the lights ascended with various benchmark labels.

“I don’t normally give out big hints like this, but…” Suddenly, the woman seemed very excited, “Go on and give it a squeeze.”

Peter was about to try it for himself, but Tony grabbed it first. If anything shady were to happen, he’d rather it happen to him than the kid. The machine beeped and booped as it sensed Tony’s love score and rang up to the middle light, “Wild.”

“Hey, not bad.” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“Not bad, but...not the best, either.” The woman hissed. Then, she guided Peter to grab it and squeeze with all his might.

The lights rang up and up and up until it hit the top light.

“Uncontrollable!” The woman announced to him, “The highest score!”

“Me? Really?” Peter chuckled at the notion, almost forgetting the danger he was worried about.

“Yeah, and you know what that means!” The woman proudly gestured to the castle, which had suddenly reappeared in their line of sight, “You’re a grand prize winner, you little love bug, you.”

“Hold it. This kid’s 16. He needs a guardian to go with him. So that means I’m going, too.” Tony asserted as he stood between the woman and Peter.

“Oh, Tony. He was 16...a long time ago. He’s only 16 when it’s convenient for the old guys like you.” She said bitterly.

“Excuse me?” Tony pulled off his sunglasses at the audacity of such an absurd statement.

“Sorry, we don’t have time to walk and build suspense. I’ve got a huge audience waiting for this one already.” The woman grabbed Peter by the wrist, “Just wait your turn, Stark.”

“Wait, don’t!” Tony reached to grab her arm, but in a split second, she pulled Peter through the flaps of one of the booth curtains and disappeared. He pulled back the flaps. Gone. With no plan and no idea of what just happened, all Tony could do was take a swig of the white russian the bartender left behind. Maybe then, he could clear his head and think of something.

Everything went black for Peter once the employee pulled him into the tent. He couldn’t even feel his own body. Then, the stage lights flashed on, blinding him for a few seconds. The thunderous applause threw off his spider senses as well. Even with his mask on, the lighting forced his eyes shut. He tried to cover them, but he couldn’t move his arm towards his face. His neck, wrists and ankles were bound in reinforced steel cuffs. He felt cold metal on his shoulders. Just barely turning his head revealed he was strapped to a steel frame standing upright. He grunted and struggled, forcing his wrists against the cuffs to try to break them open.

“Nnnh...ow!” He strained and gave up when he hit the nerves in his wrist. The more he jerked his body around in the restraints, the more excited the crowd got. What was this? Where was he now?

“Welcome everyone! First of all, I just want to thank you all for your patience. When I heard about the sheer volume of people coming to this show, I knew that I had to get him over here as soon as possible.” The lady had swiftly changed into her Ringleader outfit, “So, without further adieu, for your viewing pleasure, our next grand prize winner, Mr. Peter Parker!”

“Wait, how do you know...that name?” He asked, breathing deeply as he tried to not to panic. He was still wearing his Spider-Man mask, so he barely clung to the hope that his identity could still remain a secret.

“Oh, give it up, Parker. Everyone finds out eventually.” The Ringleader said as she pulled his mask off of. Then she played it off to the crowd, “Doesn’t he have such a beautiful face?”

The crowd whistled and hollered like hungry wolves.

“And what’s with the peanut gallery?” Peter asked.

“It’s a rogues’ gallery, actually. Your rogues’ gallery.” She clarified as she introduced the audience, “And they’ve all been playing hard and winning tickets just to see you here today!”

Now that Peter’s eyes had adjusted to the lights, he got a better look at the audience. There were hundreds of people, maybe even a thousand, but he didn’t recognize more than two, maybe three. He clearly saw Mysterio and Vulture just by their helmets, and he could barely make out Shocker.

“There’s gotta be a mistake. How can these be my enemies? I don’t even know these guys!” Peter pleaded.

“Mmm, this version of you doesn’t. But your past selves do.” She said, sounding all cryptic again.

“Past selves, like reincarnation?” He tried to understand her, tried to understand any of this.

“Something like that.” The Ringleader told him before walking in front of him and addressing her audience exclusively.

“Well, my dear audience, it looks like we have a conundrum. Usually, for our grand prize winners, we take all their memories away and let you, the highest bidder, fill their heads up with whatever memories you want, real or fake.” She tapped on her chin with her cane, “And we usually save that for the end, because you deserve to look them in the eye when they still remember why they hate you with every fiber of their being.”

“What is this?! Why are you doing this?!” Peter pleaded.

“Okay, that’s enough words from you now.” She tapped his cheek with her cane, and a bright red ball gag manifested in his mouth, plugging his tongue shut and wrapping its leather straps around his ears like a snake.

“So I’m going to leave this up to you, his wonderful rogues’ gallery. Before we give Spider-Man his prize, do we restore over 50 years of his memory?” She asked the audience, to which she got a thundering applause.

“Oh wow, that sounds like a yes! Very well, then. We shall proceed.” The Ringleader announced as she pulled a metal crown from behind her. She sauntered over to Peter, who was still screaming behind the ball gag. She plopped the large thick ring of steel right on his soft brown hair. He looked up at it with his large eyes, panting and whimpering.

“Peter Parker.” She led the crowd in a chant, “This. Is. Your. LIFE!”

The crown whirred with a green glow as it latched onto Peter’s head and surged with powerful electricity. Every muscle jerked stiffly and his eyes glazed over. The memories poured in. Not just one timeline, but hundreds of them. He saw himself in his room, but the furniture kept on changing. His twin bed glitched into a loft bed and then glitched into a queen bed. His desk, first it had schoolwork and his camera, and then he blinked and it was covered in blueprints and a tacked up corkboard. A computer appeared, flashing between the Commodore VIC-20 to the modern laptop.

“Peter!” A crackled voice called from the hallway, “Peter!”

“Aunt May! I’m here, Aunt May!” He rushed out desperately to see her, but he screamed at what he saw. Her face looked like three different women stitched together.

“What’s wrong, Peter?” She asked, her face finally smoothing out into an older woman with a graying bun resting on her shawl.

“I-I don’t…” Peter struggled to speak, but his voice sounded like dozens of voices blending together.

“Peter?” A different female voice called his name, one far younger.

“Peter…” And another one. He lost his balance and fell through the floor into an abyss. The voices only got louder.

Peter? Peter! Peter. Peter. Peter! Peter Parker. Parker! Peter. Petey. Pete. Parker. Peter Parker! Petie-O. Parker. Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter! Peter!

Tiger.

Mary Jane...Mary Jane with her candy red hair and her killer smile. His one true love...or…

Gwen. Gwen Stacy. She was already dead when he took her in his arms.

MJ, Gwen...Liz, Debra, Carlie, Betty, Felicia, Kitty, Bobbie, Cindy, Michelle…

He needed his friends, any friend.

Ned...Ned, Harry, Flash, Robbie, Miles...somebody...anybody…

After everything they’d been through together. Everything.

On the outside, Peter had fallen completely unconscious. Drool escaped from the bottom of the gag and driveled down his chin. His eyes were still wide open, dilated to the thickness of a pencil.

“Oof, I think I broke him.” The Ringleader commented, “Nah, he’ll wake up eventually. He’s a grand prize winner, so he can take it.”

She pulled out her handkerchief and wiped the drivel away, to the amusement of the audience.

“Normally they’re awake for this, but it’s still fun either way.” She continued on with the show, “Now I don’t have big changes in mind for turning Peter into Petra. That’s partially because on principle, Spider-Man’s physique is not hypermasculine. He was built lean and almost andrygnous. Now there have been Spider-Women in the past, some of which are attending our carnival as we speak. So many of you are wondering, why Peter? Why put him through all this extra work instead of picking one of the many feisty young Spider girls out there? As much as a cop out as it seems, the answer is...because none of them are Peter Parker. That is the unique soul who earned his prize today.”

The audience hummed and nodded. Some people murmured. The Ringleader cleared her throat and changed her tone, “Anyway, let’s add some boobs. Who wants boobs?”

The laughs and cheers returned. She brushed her cane across his chest, “Not too big now. I’m thinking perky. Like two little lemons.”

Peter still hadn’t woken up, but he quietly groaned as his chest swelled.

“You can’t see it very well, but you’ll notice the difference once you take the suit off.” She assured her patrons, “Wow, that was already 90% of the work. Let me just take the hips in a little.”

Once again, the change was so slight that it wasn’t visible on stage.

“I promise I’m doing stuff to him, just wait.” She said, breaking a sweat and wiping her forehead, “Let’s go ahead and morph the cookies and cream.”

She tapped on his crotch. Surely they would see something move around under those tights. And Peter did moan and squeeze his legs together for a few seconds, but then they relaxed again once the transformation was complete. Not the big spectacle she expected.

“Are you shitting me?!” She rolled her eyes and threw her cane on the floor, “Wait a second…”

She grabbed the pants of his Spider-suit and pulled them down, which drew enormous laughs.

“Oh, c’mon! How was I supposed to know he was wearing a dance belt?!” The Ringleader exclaimed. In her frustration, she pulled the modesty garment off entirely, showing off the new goods on stage. The audience gasped and cheered even louder.

“I know, I usually reserve that SPECIAL reveal for the auction winner, but here we are anyway.” She asked the audience, “But this is all for you, so you don’t mind do you?”

“Noooooooo!” The crowd yelled in unison.

“Oh? Well then...how about I take off some more?” She suggested with a wicked smile. The cheering hit her ears and made them pop. It was like a bomb went off.

“Fine, since we’re all in agreement.” The Ringleader sunk her nails into the top of Spider-suit and ripped it off like paper. Peter’s tits (or Petra’s now) flung out from the restraint of the suit’s tight fabric. Now, nothing was left to the imagination, and they could all see the supple form of a college-aged girl.

“Moving on, so if you were here for the Captain America show, I made a point to say that Steve’s face was already beautiful and needed very little changes to be feminized. It’s a little different for Peter. His body was already andrygnous but his face...there’s always been a distinct boyish charm there. So I have to be a little more drastic here. So for him, I’ve selected someone who’s face will give off the same vulnerability that all of Peter’s old faces did. Former Disney starlet and star of Hayley Kiyoko’s “Girls like Girls” music video, Stefanie Scott!”

Peter’s head had slumped against the collar around his neck, and it remained still as his face became softer with apple cheeks and a button nose. That soft brown hair grew out to just above his shoulders, flipping out in a cute little bob, very reminiscent of the 60’s style, when he was truly created. Finally, the transformation was complete.

“Phew! That was a tricky one.” The Ringleader wiped her forehead, “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Miss Petra Parker! The brilliant and beautiful webslinger you would all love to crush between your fingers. Let’s begin the bidding. Do I hear 500 tickets?”

“7,216 tickets!” A voice called out, to the gasps of everyone else in the crowd.

“Wow! Can anyone top that? I think we have a winner already!” The bidder, or bidders actually, made their way to the stage, confident in their victory.

“Hold on a second, how many of you are there?” The Ringleader counted the men coming up to her. Six in total stood up, with one man in the middle holding all their tickets collectively in what appeared to be a fishbowl.

“I’m so sorry, gentlemen. No sharing or pooling tickets allowed. You can only bid with your own tickets.” She said.

“Gah! Why didn’t you say that earlier?!” A portly man in goggles complained.

“I didn’t think I’d have to!” She said.

“What if we promise to share her equally?” A tall burly man in animal printed clothing offered.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, sir. If you want access to her, you either have to win this auction here and now or ask the winner for permission afterwards, since she will belong to them.”

With a lot of grumbling, the Sinister Six returned to their seats and participated as intended. Unfortunately, this meant that who they feared would win the auction actually did. Norman Osborn, or the Green Goblin as they knew him, proudly marched on the stage with his winning bid of 4,578 tickets.

“Congratulations, Mr. Osborn. Once again, sorry for spoiling the surprise. Sometimes I don’t know what direction the show’s going to turn.” The Ringleader said as she wrapped Petra’s body in an extra stage curtain.

“It’s alright. She’s a gift, actually. For my son.” Norman explained politely as he took the swaddled young woman in his arms. Her head slumped against his shoulder, and her weak shaking hand reached up his chest.

“Oh, for Harry? That’s so sweet!” The Ringleader cocked her head and smiled, “Take care! Everything has already been prepared for you.”

“Are you serious, Osborn?!” The portly man, Doc Ock, argued as soon as Norman walked off the stage with their greatest foe in tow, “You have The Spider-Man in your grasp, and you’re just going to give her away?”

“Why even go through all this, then?” Vulture, another scorned Sinister Six member, asked, “Wasn’t Parker already good friends with your son?”

“Exactly, Parker was my son’s friend. Now, she can be my son’s wife. The intelligent, ambitious, and dutiful wife he needs so that Oscorp doesn’t go under when it inevitably becomes his. And then, the children born from their loving union can carry on our name and legacy.” Norman explained.

“So are you telling us...that your intentions are purely business-related?” Electro asked.

“Since when are you that considerate of your son?” Mysterio scoffed, “We all know you hate that brat! Why not marry her for yourself and make a new heir? That sounds more like you!”

“I don’t have to explain myself any further to you.” Norman finished the conversation as he walked away, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m very busy. I have Harry’s wedding to plan.”

“Mmm...H-Harry…” Petra murmured, finally blinking. She was still in a suggestive state, so it was important for Norman to get her home in time. He smiled and gave her a small peck on the forehead. Once he exited the big circus tent, he was able to reach the endless parking lot. For a billionaire like Norman, he just had to wait for his limousine to pull up to the roundabout.

The driver assisted him in putting Petra’s limp body in the back of the limo, giving her all the space she needed to lay down. Though there was enough room for him to have his own space, Norman decided to sit by her, letting her head rest in his lap while he stroked her hair.

Yes, Petra would make a fine wife for Harry. They’d been best friends after all. She was a far better choice than those bimbos Harry dated. Parker had never been vain, despite his face being more handsome than Harry’s, so he trusted that Petra would never see just how beautiful she was. So surely, Harry would have no reason to object to the marriage, especially if Norman threatened to take away his inheritance if he refused.

And after they wed, they’d all live together in the mansion, just the three of them. If Norman himself had taken such a young new wife, there was sure to be scandal. The board would never let him live it down. But there was nothing scandalous about his son marrying his high school friend. It was a perfect arrangement. And while Harry was away...either on business or for a pleasure trip...then it would just be Norman and Petra. All alone together in his mansion.

Norman burst out into a grin, and then a loud Goblin laugh as the limo drove away from the carnival.

The morning sun rose for another beautiful day in Pleasant Hill, a typical American suburb in a typical American city. In the cul de sac of Cherry Street, Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt awoke to start their day. Mr. Schmidt groaned and stretched as he sat up in bed.

“Fetch me my pipe.” He ordered first thing in the morning, rubbing his eyes that were deeply embedded in his red skull.

“Yes, dear.” His wife, the tall and buxom Mrs. Schmidt, stood right out of bed and grabbed her black silk robe to cover the lacy undergarments she had slept in. She tied the red sash around her waist and smoothed out the Hydra logo embroidered on it. She walked over to his side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer to pull out his pipe and tobacco. She prepared it for him per his instructions and offered it to him.

“And put on your mask, I don’t feel like looking at your smart mouth today.” He ordered.

“Of course.” She said numbly. She pulled a black mouth mask out of the drawer and slipped it over her face. Now, it was time to go downstairs and prepare breakfast for everyone.

She put on her slippers and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. She stopped when she noticed a toy train out of place on the carpet. She picked it up and placed it on the counter. Someone could have gotten hurt if they didn’t see it.

“Morning, Mom! What’s for breakfast?” A ten year old ginger-headed boy asked as he burst out of his room in his pajamas.

“Eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns.” She told him, “Remember to get dressed before you sit at the table, Roman.”

“I’m already dressed.” Another boy child, Roman’s twin brother, Charity, boasted as he walked out of his room in his red shorts and striped shirt.

“Good, then put this away in your toybox.” Their mother said, handing him the toy train, “You know how your father feels about you leaving your toys on the floor.”

By the time the Red Skull dressed and came downstairs, the boys were dressed and sitting in front of their fresh hot breakfast plates. As hungry as they were, the rules were that they could not eat until their father was seated at the table.

“The newspaper?” Red Skull said, suggesting that it should already be on the table and waiting for him.

“Oh.” Roman said as he remembered it was his turn and rushed outside to grab from the front yard. He zoomed to their white picket fence and back in record time.
“You know I don’t like to wait, boy.” The Red Skull scolded him as soon as he came back, ripping it from his hands and folding it open.

“I’m sorry, Father.” Roman said and returned to his seat.

“No apologies. Just do better.” Red Skull licked his finger and turned the page. He held the paper as he dug his fork into the golden hashbrowns. Mrs. Schmidt rubbed both of her boys’ soft heads of red hair before pouring her husband his morning coffee.

“Hmm, it appears the Oscorp CEO’s son is getting married.” Red Skull commented as he read the headlines, “There’s going to be a big wedding at the town hall, open attendance. Sounds like parking downtown is going to be a huge pain in the arse. Remind me to take the back roads.”

“Father, how come we don’t have pictures of your wedding?” Charity asked.

Mrs. Schmidt walked away from the table and looked out the kitchen window, under the guise of lifting the blinds to let more light in.

Red Skull watched as his wife leaned over the sink to reach the blind strings. He had a sly smile on his lips.

“Your mother and I eloped.”

Chapter Text

The tap poured beer for two tall mugs, and the foam crackled as the bartender slid the drinks across the counter for the raccoon and the tree.

“All you can eat and all you can drink? Sounds too good to be true.” Rocket switched between chugging from his mug and biting from a sausage on a stick.

“And yet, you’re still eating it.” Gamora commented as she cautiously walked around with her arms folded.

“If it was poison, we’d be so dead already.” Peter Quill said with a mouthful of funnel cake.

“My body has adapted to many toxins. There is nothing I can consume that I cannot metabolize.” Drax boasted.

“Where did you take us, Quill?” Gamora asked.

“Me? Rocket was driving.” Peter said.

“I didn’t pick this place, I thought Groot picked this place!” Rocket said.

“I am Groot.” Groot said, obviously.

“So we don’t know where we are, or what we’re doing here. That’s just perfect.” Gamora said.

“Well, it looks like we’re at a carnival, so let’s start there.” Peter said, “Maybe we answered someone’s calling signal for help.”

“Then let’s look for someone who needs help.” Gamora shrugged.

So the Guardians of the Galaxy took their tour of the carnival, their boots tracking dirt over the gravel paths and the flashing lights and sounds overwhelming their senses. There wasn’t anything particularly alien about this place, and Quill was starting to suspect that he was back on Earth, or Terra as he’d become accustomed to calling it. But something about this place just didn’t feel like Earth.

Their search for someone in distress wasn’t going very well, as everyone around them seemed to be having fun, as people were expected to at any carnival, circus, or amusement park.

“C’mon, guys, let’s just try one ride while we’re here.” Star-Lord suggested, spotting a large gateway resembling a clown, “Oooh, a funhouse! I haven’t been to one of these in years!”

Before the rest of the guardians could get a word in, their leader had already run through the mouth of the clown with chipped white paint on its face and swirling green spirals for eyes. The fuzzy red hair matched the blush on its cheeks. Moving gears gave it a gloved hand that waved at the people entering. They had no choice but to walk along the tongue carpeting to follow Peter Quill inside. Violet, green, and pink lights shined from the floor, highlighting the hall of mirrors that lined the entrance.

“Aw man, usually the hall of mirrors makes you look all weird.” Peter commented as he looked at a perfect reflection of himself in the first mirror. He quickly dismissed the “normal” mirror and went to the next one that was curved and made him look short and stubby, “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Haha, we represent the Lollipop Guild.”

Gamora passed the first mirror as she tried to catch up to Quill, but she stopped when her reflection wasn’t as “normal” as he said it’d be. Her green skin appeared brown in this mirror, and her magenta highlights disappeared. Maybe it was just the lighting, but it was enough to make her double take.

“Quill, don’t just walk into strange places without-” Gamora tried to reprimand him, but was cut off with a shocked holler from Rocket, who also stood in front of the “normal” mirror.

Rocket, who usually stood less than four feet tall, appeared over six feet in the mirror as a human man, with soft brown hair pushed behind his ears and stubble along his pointed chin.

“I look fucking hideous.” Rocket moaned as his paws appeared as hands when he touched his cheeks to examine the blue eyes of his mirror self.

“You are always hideous.” Drax commented.

“Oh ha ha ha. Very clever.” Rocket brushed it off and walked away. With Groot right behind him, it was his turn to look into the mirror, and he also saw a human man, tall and muscular with a bald head .

“I am Groot?” He said inquisitively, pointing to himself in the mirror.

“Woah, check this out.” Peter walked into the next room which was as large as a school gym and had various jumping steps raised to different heights. It was hard to tell their distance from the ground because of the fog obscuring the floor. The neon glowed in the dark and made the bright colors on their clothes light up as well.

“I don’t think we have time to be playing like children.” Gamora tried to turn back and leave, but the mirror hallway was gone.

“Guess we don’t have a choice.” Rocket said, “Typical.”

“Why do you guys want there to be something dangerous about this place?” Peter Quill asked, “Maybe we just need to have fun. Maybe that’s the point here.”

“Okay, fine. What are the rules? What do we do here?” Gamora asked, finally relenting.
Then, five glowing “Start” buttons, each a different color, lit up on the floor. Naturally, each guardian took a color, and once they all stood on their respective buttons, the path lit up and revealed the course to be a life-sized board game. A large spinner appeared above them on an holographic screen on the ceiling, numbering from 1-10 on a multi-colored wheel.

Gamora’s button raised off the floor as her turn began. The spinner’s arrow went around in circles, creating a fast flash of blinding colors before landing on the number 4. She jumped ahead four platforms, which lit up as her feet touched them, and on the last step, the holographic screen flashed the words,

Memory Game!

Another smaller platform arose from the fog with a keypad of numbers and a color wheel. Then, the screen displayed a series of 7 colored numbers in quick bursts. Following that was the instructions,

Input the order of colors.
Input the order of numbers.

“Oof, I only caught like half of those numbers, and I think one of them was red.” Quill said.

“Easy.” Gamora scoffed at the task. Her memory was as sharp as her blades, so she could replay the sequence in her head as much as she wanted. With quick fingers, she tapped in the correct order of the colors followed by the numbers. The screen flashed animations of confetti and a victorious tune chirped and echoed in the room.

Excellent! Total score: 100 points!

Then it was Rocket’s turn, and he did the same thing. The spinner gave him a number, he jumped up that amount of steps, and then it gave him a game. Only this time, he got the “Shell Game” and his keypad had the options A, B, or C on it.

“That ain’t fair if it’s digital! They can put the ball wherever they want if it ain’t a real ball!” Rocket complained.

“Just pick one!” Quill goaded him.

“Alright, alright!” Rocket’s fingers danced around the buttons until he chose “B” randomly. A negative buzzer noise played loudly as the screen showed the correct cup was Cup C.

“Told ya it was rigged! Shell Game is always r-Aaahh!” Rocket yelled as his platform dropped from under him and he fell into the fog, his scream echoing as he fell further and further away.

“I am Groot!” Groot leaned down and held onto his own platform as he reached downward towards the fog.

“How far is he falling? We were just on the ground floor a few steps ago.” Drax said.

“I’m sure he’s fine…he probably just fell through a trap door. Oop!” Peter Quill looked behind him and the “ground floor” that they arrived through was no longer in sight. They had nowhere to stand but their own platforms, “Just keep moving forward guys, we’ll get the hang of this.”

They kept following the spinner, kept jumping along the board, and kept playing the mini games. Some were skill-based and some were just plain luck. Groot was the next to lose as he was unable to say “She sells seashells by the sea shore” ten times fast into a microphone. The colors of the wheel kept spinning and spinning, disorienting them and clouding their minds.

“C’mon, Drax. It’s your turn.” Quill alerted his friend, but the big guy was sitting on his knees, looking up at the spinner as drool poured from his mouth.

“Drax! Get up! Drax!” Gamora tried to call him out of whatever trance he was falling in. He tried to stand, but Drax wobbled dizzily and fell off the platform on his own, silently falling into the dense fog, which was rising as they got higher along the board.

Now, it was just Gamora and Star-Lord standing, with the “Winner’s Circle” within their sight, a red and white target with flashing rings of light. Gamora had the next turn, and the spinner gave her the next game.

Head to Head! Select Another Player.

“We’re the only two left, so it has to be us.” Quill stated the obvious, and suddenly their two platforms shifted to be right next to each other, with a single red button placed in between them.

Question Time!

“But whichever one of us loses is going to fall. We don’t know what’s down there! Our friends could be…” Gamora tried to speak sensibly but she was losing her words. Her fear was receding and a wave of calmness rushed over her. There was no danger. It was just a game. They were having fun!

And then the question came on.

Where were you born?

Gamora beat Quill’s hand to the buzzer, pressing the red button and blurting out, “Zen-Whoberi!”

But the screen blinked red and emitted a loud noise.

Incorrect.

The spinner appeared behind the words, and the colorful wheel turned into a spiral which kept going in circles as the text continued.

Correct Answer: Walnut Grove, Minnesota.

“Oh…silly me…how could I have forgotten?” Gamora said monotonously as the spirals reflected in her dilated eyes. She could see it now. She could feel it as if it was happening right now. The tall grass under her bare feet as she ran through the open field. Her solid dark brown hair pulled into pig tails as the sun came down on her medium brown skin. She chased after brothers and sisters in a game of tag, with her eyes set on her little red-haired sister, Nebula. But just as she was about to tag her, their father called them in for supper. She looked behind her and saw her tall rugged father, in his brown work pants and suspenders over his beige button-up shirt. He fanned himself with his farmer’s hat as his brown eyes squinted in the sunlight. He slicked his dark hair into place as he called for the kids again. They all ran to him, to their Pa. Supper was a rich stew made from the vegetables they grew on their own farm. Once they stored away enough to feed themselves, they would take the rest of their crops to town to sell in the market square. It was a tough life sometimes, but it was honest work and it gave them everything they needed. There were plenty to go around and they always had full bellies…just as their Pa had always promised them…

The game wasn’t over quite yet. Gamora may have answered wrong, but Peter Quill still needed to get it right. As the spinner kept spinning, the same question appeared again.

Where were you born?

Peter Quill’s first answer would have been Missouri, but something in his mind told him that wasn’t right. The true answer came to him through whispers in his swirling head. He rang the buzzer and answered what he was told to say by the voices.

“Cherry Street? In Pleasant Hill, USA?”

The screen flashed green and rang out with a ding-ding-ding. Correct answer. Peter Quill was the winner of the game! He took one dizzy step forward onto the winner’s circle, which rose up higher as Gamora’s platform descended into the fog. With cloudy eyes, he reached down in a futile attempt to grab her hand, but she was already so far gone. She came extremely close, but she was not the prize winner today.

“My lovely audience! I’m looking at you all right now and I just gotta say, wow. This is the most colorful crowd I’ve seen at my carnival. Literally. We got people from all over the galaxy who came to win our beautiful grand prize winner today!” The Ringleader greeted her crowd, “And now, without further ado, I present to you, the infamous Star-Lord! Or as his mama called him, Peter Quill!”

The crowd of aliens of different shapes and sizes made a variety of noises from their various body parts. Hands were clapping, tentacles were slapping, and different mouths made various screeches and gurgling noises. As they made a commotion, Peter Quill was presented on stage on a floating magnetic chamber where he levitated in mid-air. His arms were bound behind his back and his ankles locked with each other. His face wore a weak smile while his eyes were clouded white.

“Anything to say before your transformation, Star-Lord?” The Ringleader asked as she tapped on his chin with her cane, “After all, your quick wit is what makes you worthy of our big prize. That and your surprising leadership skills. You’re like the dad and the little brother of the Guardians at the time!”

But Star-Lord had nothing to say. There was no witty banter from the usually harsh-tongued outlaw today.

“No? How disappointing.” The Ringleader said, but the audience laughed and cheered at his silence. Nearly everyone in the crowd had been humiliated by Peter Quill in the past and were seizing their chance to get the ultimate revenge.

“Anyway, let’s get started!” The show officially began the way it usually did, with the winner’s full body transformation.

“I feel like going for the boobs first again. That’s every man’s first concern right? I’m sure Peter would agree. If he could talk right now, he’d ask, ‘Hey what kind of boobs would I have?” The Ringleader said as she spun her cane around, “Now I like to explore all parts of the spectrum. I’ve given my winners giant knockers, and I’ve given them teeny ant bites. It just depends on the person, and for Peter Quill here…I feel like he deserves something more in the middle. Enough to fill your hands but not enough to hurt her back. That sound good?”

Cheers from the crowd as usual, though there were a vocal few who shouted to make them bigger, but the Ringleader got the final say in the end. They still “wooed” all the same when the cane tapped Peter Quill’s chest and the breasts swelled under the tight gray T-shirt.

“But I will give you this. A nice juicy ass.” The Ringleader bit her tongue in a smile and spanked Peter with the cane. He emitted a small gasp even under a trance. His whole lower half changed at once. His waist cinched to make a nice curve out of his hips that shaped a plump round ass that jiggled with another smack from the cane.

“Now for the face. Obviously the facial hair has to go, so poof, gone.” The Ringleader swiped her gloved hand over his mouth and like magic, his mustache and stubble disappeared like she rubbed them off with the palm of her hand, “But I love these cheekbones, so I’m gonna keep them. I think I’ll give you the fox-like features of Haley Bennett. Though, the hair is tricky. I’m thinking something sporty, like layers? Long enough to make a ponytail, but with those short strands that make tendrils over her ears.”

The crowd erupted into incomprehensible chanting as Star-Lord was gradually transformed into a Star Lady. As usual, the Ring Leader saved the crotch for last. The tight pants that Quill wore on his own accord came of great help today.

“Abracadabra.” The Ringleader chuckled with one tap of her cane, and the bulge beneath the zipper receded. When the newly embodied “Paige” Quill squealed in discomfort, her audience of enemies cheered like their favorite team had won.

“And now…for the bidding. Do I hear 500 tickets?” The Ringleader asked.

“600 tickets!” The voice of Ronan the Accuser boomed as he raised his fist holding his string of red tickets.

“600? Wow, couldn’t get enough after our sassy minx here danced for you, huh?” The Ringleader smiled, “Can anyone beat that?”

“900 tickets!” Taserface countered and let out a big belly laugh, spraying the rows in front of him with his saliva.

“Ah, I knew I’d see you here, today, Taserface! You’ve been wanting to eat her up since she first walked on Yondu’s ship, haven’t you? Well, now’s your chance, unless anyone-”

“5,000 tickets!” A roguish but charming voice declared from the middle aisle.

“Wow! 5,000! Going once! Going twice! Sold!” The Ringleader threw her hand out to invite the winner to the stage, “To the enigmatic Ego! The Living Planet!”

“Hahaha, you sound surprised. Did you really expect me to lose out on the bidding for my own kid?” Ego boasted with a plastic smile.

“I’m not surprised. I’m just curious about your intentions. Most winners take the grand prize home as a wife. Though the last one was an exception…” The Ringleader noted.

“Also, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to do something extra for me.” Ego leaned down to the Ringleader to whisper something in her ear.

“Oh…huh. That’s an unusual request. But doable. I kind of wish I knew about this before the big show, but you’re the winner here, so have it your way!” The Ringleader returned to Paige Quill’s semi-conscious body, still floating in the magnetic restraints, and tapped on her head three times. Slowly, Paige’s face and body began to shrink, and her features grew softer as she became younger. She deaged to the body of an eight-year-old, the same age Peter was when he was abducted from Earth. The restraints unlocked with a sharp clink, and little Paige fell into her father’s arms, wearing Peter’s shirt and jacket which were far too big for her.

“Thank you. It’s not every day you get a second chance to raise your kid.” Ego said, “Maybe having a girl will be easier than a boy. Little girls are supposed to be more obedient, right?”

“Where you’re going, they should be.” The Ringleader said, “This works perfectly actually. Pleasant Hill could always use more children. Though I’m gonna need a little more time to fix up the home. Since she’s going to need a mom, now. You understand, of course.”

“Yeah, ‘course! We don’t have to leave right away. I’ll let her enjoy the carnival a little longer.” Ego said, setting his little Paige down to stand on her own. Peter’s pants had fallen off her legs, but his grey tee covered her like a t-shirt dress.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s get you some new clothes. Daddy’s gonna buy you a pretty dress.” Ego said sweetly as he took her by the hand and walked her off the stage.

“Thanks, Daddy…” Paige said groggily as she wiped her cloudy eyes.

“And then we can go on that ferris wheel. Won’t that be fun?” Ego said, falling into his role of the “doting” old-fashioned father so quickly.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Chapter Text

The light of the carnival shined into the night sky. From Pleasant Hill, the turning ferris wheel and rollercoaster were visible in the distance. The children in town could see it from their backyards even as the sun started to set.

“Boys, it’s time for dinner. Make sure to wash up before you sit at the table.” Mrs. Schmidt instructed from behind her black mask as she took one step outside in her black heels.

Roman set down his soccer ball as he watched the large ferris wheel keep turning.

“Mom, can we go to the carnival?” He asked as he came inside the house.

“That’s a question for your father.” She said, ruffling his soft red hair. She ruffled Charity’s hair too when he walked through.

She had prepared a tuna casserole with sides of broccoli and mashed potatoes. She lit the candle in the centerpiece of the dinner table and poured some pinot noirs into the wine glasses for her and her husband. For her twin boys, she poured them cans of their favorite sodas. As they did for breakfast, the family sat at the table and waited for Mr. Schmidt to arrive. They sat in silence and stared at the front door for several minutes.

Finally, Red Skull burst through the door in a huff and tossed his briefcase on the couch. He grumbled as he took off his working jacket and put it on the coat hanger. He didn’t give as much as a “hello” to his family as he stomped to the dinner table and took his seat.

“Rough day at work, honey?” Mrs. Schmidt asked dryly.

“I don’t want to hear a word out of you!” Red Skull threw his finger in her face from across the table. He swirled his wine glass and rubbed the outline of his temples while taking a large sip. The rest of the family waited for him to take the first bite of food before they started eating themselves. Mrs. Schmidt neatly put her mask next to her plate so that she too could eat dinner.

“Boys, don’t ever think that being the boss is easy. Telling people what to do is only part of it, making sure they actually do it is a whole other matter.” Red Skull lamented to his progeny.

“What do you do when people aren’t doing what you tell them to do, Father?” Charity asked as he dipped his fork into his mashed potatoes.

“Well, son, when yelling doesn’t work, sometimes I have to get violent.” Red Skull answered, “There’s very little a man won’t do when you have his neck in your hand.”

“Mhm.” Charity nodded as he took a bite of his food. Mrs. Schmidt looked over with concern, but said nothing. Sometimes, she didn’t like the lessons that her husband taught their boys, but there was nothing she could do about it here at the dinner table.

“Verdammt…” Red Skull muttered loudly as he twisted his fork through his dinner plate, “Another casserole, woman? Why don’t you put in some more effort and make something other than American mush?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you like to eat. Should I try some German recipes for a change?” Mrs. Schmidt asked genuinely, but her tone put him off, like always.

“Oh, it just now occurred to you?” He snipped at her as he ate the food anyway, “And I swear you’re trying to fatten me up on these starches. Potatoes in the morning and more potatoes in the evening!”

“I want to use the whole bag before they spoil.” Mrs. Schmidt answered.

“Psst…” Roman whispered as he leaned closer to his mom’s chair, “I like your food, Mom.”

Mrs. Schmidt patted Roman’s hand in appreciation. It was a nice compliment, but she knew that this was just something the Red Skull did. Every day, he’d come home from work and gripe about whatever she made for dinner. It was his routine. Even if he liked the food, he’d probably find something else to nitpick just to scold her. But she never complained. Her urge to fight back simply did not exist.

After dinner, the boys were allowed 30 minutes of TV time to watch Captain Video before they went to bed. Then, they brushed their teeth and put on their pajamas so that their mother could tuck them into bed. She pulled the covers over each of her handsome boys and kissed their foreheads goodnight, her favorite part of the day.

“Mom, why do you let Father talk to you like that?” Roman asked as he tucked his arm under his pillow.

“What do you mean?” She asked in return.

“He’s always so mean to you. I can’t even remember the last time he said something nice to you.” Roman elaborated.

“That’s just his personality, dear. If he said something nice, he simply wouldn’t be the same man.” She answered as she stood in their bedroom doorway.

“Do you love Father?” Charity asked a more loaded question, since his brother had already opened up the floor.

Mrs. Schmidt squeezed her hands on the doorframe, facing the hallway so the boys couldn’t see her face contort in discomfort. She didn’t want to lie to them, but she wanted to protect them from the truth as well. So she had to find something in the middle.

“Your father and I…have been connected to each other our whole lives. We complete each other, and give each other purpose…as a husband and wife should. A relationship like that…is like love.” She said and then turned off the lights, “Good night, boys. And sweet dreams. I love you.”

She walked away from their room and tears formed in her eyes. When she told them she loved them, that was the first time she felt like she said the truth all day. But she didn’t know why everything else felt like a lie on her tongue. She wasn’t trying to be dishonest. She put her negative feelings away as she walked to her own bedroom, where the Mister was already in bed, reading with the table lamp on.

Red Skull had been in such a foul mood that Roman did not get the chance to ask him about the carnival, but Stephanie remembered. So, she took it upon herself to ask for him. She closed their door and locked it securely.

“How rare, you look like you have something on your mind.” Red Skull commented as he noticed immediately. He closed his book and put it away as he got up to undress her himself. As tiresome as it seemed, it was actually something he liked to do.

“I wanted to know if I could take the boys to the carnival tomorrow.” She said plainly as he unhooked and unzipped her black dress with red polka dots.

“Tomorrow is Friday. They have school.” Red Skull said. He pulled her dress down and she stepped out of it.

“I was thinking after school. We could go in the evening, since they have the weekend off anyway.” Stephanie suggested as he pulled her red satin slip over her head. Then, he unhooked her garterbelt and slipped her thin black pantyhose down her shapely legs. Now she only stood in her lacy bra and high-waisted panties.

“I suppose that can be arranged. If I wake up in a good mood tomorrow.” Red Skull said, as he brushed his red fingers under her chin and slipped his thumb between her lips, “You know what puts me in a good mood.”

Dinner at the Osborn estate was prepared by the private chef. Today’s menu had lobster bisque as the appetizer, chicken cordon bleu for the main course, and crème brûlée for dessert. Only two family members arrived dressed elegantly for dinner, the last one did not arrive at all. The butler brought out the cart of silver trays as Petra and Norman sat on opposite sides of the long cherrywood table. Petra kept her back straight as her eyes switched back and forth between the assortment of forks and spoons arranged around her plate. It was only Norman who was watching her, but she still didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of him. He was her father-in-law now, after all.

“Harry’s not coming?” Norman asked knowingly as the butler opened the tray to reveal the lobster bisque.

“I don’t think so. He’s…He’s…” Petra struggled to think of where Harry said he’d be. She saw him earlier, didn’t she? Or was that last night? Maybe he said he was going to the bank. Or wait, no, was he going to a party tonight? If so, why wasn’t he taking her? Or wait, she was invited, but she remembered declining, because… and then, she forgot the reason why.

“Alright, don’t hurt yourself.” Norman told her, watching her try to rack her brain on a simple memory recall.

“I’m sorry. I should know where he is, Mr. Osborn, but my mind has just been really jumbled today.” Petra apologized.

“No need to call me Mister. We’re family now, after all.” Norman assured her, “Your soup spoon is the one on the right, by the way.”

“Ah, right. Thank you.” Petra murmured as she picked up the right spoon and served herself some of the soup.

“Sadly, it’s not unlike Harry to just disappear without notice. Even if you did remember what he told you, there’s still a good chance he was lying. He’s probably in some opium den right now, shooting up dope.” Norman said with a wave of his hand.

“Why would you say that? Harry wouldn’t-” Petra tried to defend him, but then a memory flashed in her head. Harry popped some pills in front of her. She reached out to get him to stop, but he brushed her off. Since when was Harry that type of person? And how did she forget until now?

“If he’s in trouble, then we should look for him!” Petra stood up quickly as if to rush out the room, but she moved a little too quickly and her head became woozy.

“There, there. Don’t move too fast. You look like you’re about to faint. Eat some more before you get up, alright?” Norman warned her. She slowly sat back down.

“But we can’t just leave him out there. He needs our help.” She put her fists on the table to ground herself. Her head was throbbing through these conflicting memories, but one thing she knew for sure was how much she cared about him.

“Oh, don’t get yourself worked up over what I said. I was exaggerating. He’s already seeking treatment for that, remember? Best doctors in the world.” Norman said, and then she did remember. Hugging Harry goodbye before he walked into a fancy rehab clinic.

“Let’s not dwell too much on Harry and just enjoy each other’s company, okay? I’m sure he’s fine.” Norman suggested.

“...Okay.” Petra resigned herself as the main course was served to them. She picked one of the forks and one of the knives and cut her chicken into smaller bites, trying to get an even amount of meat and cheese. The last time Petra clearly remembered Harry was at the wedding. He was being his usual goofy self. He had a cheeky smile as he said his vows. He dabbed her nose with a slice of wedding cake which made them both laugh. He had to look down at his feet when they did the first dance. It was a good wedding. He seemed like he loved her. But she couldn’t remember anything else after that. All her memories of him had come from before.

The only one who had been there for her during this adjustment to her new life was Norman. He had given her the tour of her new home, gifted her new elegant clothes to wear, and always attended dinner with her every night. He had been so kind to her since she moved in, which really conflicted with her scattered “memories” of him, where he was cold, standoff-ish, and sometimes downright cruel. Some of these memories must have just been nightmares, too, since she also imagined him as a ragged green monster sometimes. She knew that couldn’t be real, but the fact that it felt real scared her. She was reluctant to tell him about all this, for fear that he would think she was crazy.

“Poor Petra, you look positively frazzled. Maybe we should skip dessert for tonight and get you to bed.” Norman got up and walked to the other end of the table, feeling her forehead and taking hold of her arm.

“I’m fine, really. I can eat a little more.” Petra tried to insist, but Norman wasn’t accepting her answer.

“No, off to bed with you. Your face is getting flushed.” He asserted as he picked her up out of her chair and carried her over his shoulder. She felt so embarrassed, but also too weak to stand on her own. She didn’t want to feel like dead weight around the house. She had more responsibilities than just being Harry’s wife. Even with her memories scrambled, she still had her sharp scientific mind, and Norman was helping her develop her business senses so she could market Oscorp’s new technologies that she helped develop. He was counting on her, and she couldn’t let him down.

“I can’t…We have…work to do…” Petra mumbled over his shoulder as he walked her down the long hallway into the bedroom.

“Don’t worry about that for now. Just relax. Let’s try to empty that busy mind of yours.” Norman dropped her onto the bed and closed the door behind them, leaving them in complete darkness. He smiled wide as he locked the door.

Chapter Text

The Schmidt Household

The Red Skull was the king of his household, so he made his woman bow her knees on their plush wine-colored carpet. He pressed his hand firmly on her blonde scalp, shoving her down roughly into a messy fall, making her grunt as she hit the floor. He was already undressed for the night. The rest of his body was as red as his skull, and the only thing he wore was his black briefs, which she had no choice but to slip down his legs. She could barely see his dick in the dim lighting of his table lamp, but she knew it too well already, from its girth to the placement of its veins. She had no recollection of how long they had been together, but the few memories she did have always led back to this, her kneeling before him.

He gripped her hair tightly even as she grabbed his shaft with her hand. She tugged from the bottom to retract the skin around the tip. She lapped it gently, barely touching it with her tongue.

“Don’t tease me, woman.” He ordered, grabbing his own dick and forcing it into her mouth. She gave a loud squeal of shock that pleased him more than the feeling of her soft throat. He held her head in place as he thrust himself in, forcing her to take it all. She had expected him to do this but not until later. He usually took his time, grabbing her, molesting her before ramming her into the bed. She tucked her thumbs into her fists, and pressed into her thighs. This usually helped her through it.

He groaned with every muffled gurgle and grunt that came from her throat. This was her chance to bite down, to try to fight him off like she used to, back when she was him. That was what brought him the most pleasure, that he had won. If he was honest, he had no reservations with the boys going to carnival. If it got those little brats out of the house, then why not? They could stay there until they were 18, for all he cared. They could come back when they were grown men and ready to continue his legacy. It was her that he was concerned about. That carnival gave him what desired, but he still had to be cautious. He didn’t want to risk her being recognized by her old allies and waking up the Captain still inside of her.

Sometimes he could still see him in her eyes, screaming to be released. But a rough fucking usually shut him up and forced him to retreat. Red Skull grew tired of standing and sat on the bed, pulling her head down with him to keep her stuffed with his cock. He clutched her hair with both hands and bobbed her mouth up and down to the pace of his liking.

“Ugh, mein Liebling.” He roughly moaned as the soft wetness of her throat coated the tip of his red cock. He finally let go to give her the chance to do it herself. To his satisfaction, she kept sucking on her own with all the ferocity that he expected. She scrunched up her face as she gulped his whole hard length over and over again. She even moaned as she did it. He leaned forward to unhook her bra with a quick pinch of the strap, and then pulled it down her shoulders. She did the rest to remove her lace bra and hold her large breasts in her hands. She wrapped them around his shaft. Her mouth lay agape as drool ran down her lips and she looked up at him for his approval.

“Go on. Put your body to good use.” He demanded with a pleased smile. She nodded and rolled her breasts forward and back, keeping his cock buried in her silky soft flesh. She also put the tip of his cock back in her mouth while she was at it. His dirty flavor spread all over her tongue, but she refused to choke. She pushed down harder and rubbed her breasts faster on him, desperate to make him cum.

“You’re getting better at this. You look like you want it.” He taunted her, rolling his hips, “Tell me that you do. Beg me.”

“Please…” She muttered as she pulled her mouth away from his cock.

“Please what?” He asked, pulling her hair again.

“Please cum for me, Johann.” She pleaded, kissing the tip.

“Johann? So you do remember your husband’s first name. And here I thought that empty head of yours forgot.” He teased her with a slap to the cheek, “Now tell me who you are.”

“I’m…Mrs. Schmidt…I’m your dutiful wife.” She gave him the answer he told her to say a long time ago. He had a first name, but she didn’t.

“And who do you belong to, Mrs. Schmidt?” He asked her, tugging her hair up.

“I belong to you, Johann.” She whimpered.

“That’s right. Now stand still.” He held her upright and grabbed the length of his cock to take back control. He brushed the tip against her nipples and up to her lips as he felt his climax about to squirt out. The first few drops ran down her chin and dripped to her breasts. The rest of the thick yellowish fluid shot out onto her face, coating her from her forehead to her cheeks..

“Ha, I bet you wish you had your mask on right now.” He taunted her more as he slapped her cheek with his now softening dick. She didn’t respond to that. Instead, she merely wiped his semen off of her face with her fingers. This whole thing was to put him in a good mood, and so she knew the last thing that would guarantee to do the trick. She sucked on her cum-soaked fingers until she consumed every last drop of his.

“Good. Very good, mein Liebling.” He said, pulling his briefs back up. Steve would have never done that of his own accord. If he was still in there, he was too far gone to be saved. “So be it. I shall grant your request. You may take my sons to that silly little carnival tomorrow. Just make sure my dinner is on the table before you go.”

The Osborn Household

Blackout curtains blocked out the moonlight, leaving the master bedroom in complete darkness as Petra lay on the large bed, falling into the Egyptian cotton sheets. Her head was swirling and throbbing painfully, dulling the rest of her senses.

“Here, these are for your headache. It’ll take the edge off.” Norman told her as he slipped a thick capsule into her mouth. Then, he held her head up so he could give her some water to sip.

“Thank you, Mr.- I mean, Norman.” She slurred as she felt instant relief with the tension in her head subsiding.

“Tell me something, Petra. Does Harry…perform for you?” He asked with a careful choice of words.

“What do you-” She murmured.

“I know it’s an embarrassing topic, but we’re closer than we used to be. We can talk about things like this now.” Norman assured her, “I know he loves you, but can he…love you in the ways that you need?”

“Mmm…” Petra had to really think about it. She knew there was a wedding night for her and Harry, but she couldn’t remember it for the life of her. Maybe she got so drunk at the reception that she blacked out for the rest of the night. She remembered the warmth of his body from their friendly hugs, and how much holding him made her want to protect him. But when was the last time they held each other like that? And…had that ever led to sex between them?

“If you have to think that hard, then the answer is most certainly ‘No.’” Norman laughed.

“I love him very much.” She answered as she remained sprawled out on the bed.

“If he really treated you like you deserved, you’d have much more to say than ‘I love him very much.’” Norman crawled over her, and she felt his tie fall on her chest.

“Norman?” She asked, sensing that something was going to happen.

“Ssshhh. Don’t worry about it. I’m just taking care of you.” Norman said in a low voice. He dropped his face down to hers and gently kissed her eyes before moving to nibble on her ear.

“B-But Harry…” She protested as she felt a tingle in her stomach.

“Harry doesn’t matter right now. He’ll understand, because he’s mine.” He whispered and then ran his lips through her hair, “And that means you’re mine, too.”

He ran his older wrinkling hands over her soft youthful skin of her thighs. He pulled one leg up and tapped his fingers along her flesh until he reached the warmth of her pussy. He brushed along the outside, stroking from the taint to the hood of her clit. He’d been married once. He already knew how to find it. He gently tapped it, making her gasp from the delicate sensation. She didn’t move at all. Her instincts that usually pulled her away from danger told her otherwise. The scent of his cologne, the smoothness of his voice, and his delicate touch all whispered at her to trust him.

Her cheeks became red and warm as her stomach churned with pleasure. She shivered with goosebumps as the light teasing of her pussy riled her up. She quietly whimpered as the danger of it all made it more thrilling. Harry might come home any minute from…wherever he was. If he saw them like this, he’d be furious.

“Thanks for sticking up for me, Harry.”

“You heard?”

“Everyone heard that creep!”

“That creep is my father. Alright? If I’m lucky, I’ll become half of what he is! So just keep your mouth shut about stuff you don’t understand!”

She heard that memory but she couldn’t put any faces to them. One sounded like Harry, but he was talking to a girl, but she couldn’t remember which girl. Was it her? Or someone else? It didn’t matter, the point was the same. Harry thought his father could do no wrong. He’d do whatever mental gymnastics he needed to justify this.

“Oh Petra…you’re getting all wet for me.” Norman teased as he moved from teasing the outside to fingering her inside, pushing her panties out of the way.

“Unnh, N-Norman!” She moaned and shivered, staying in place to let him keep his hands at work. He kept one hand firmly around her pussy, rubbing and circling his fingers around her tight walls. His other hand crawled up her dress, lifting it to pull it off her body in one tug. Then, he ravenously squeezed and licked her small breasts, sucking on her nipples. She whimpered loudly, like she was in danger, in need of saving, but no one was coming for her. The maids knew better than to interrupt the lady of the house in her private chambers at night when she screamed like that.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groaned as he felt his hard cock push against the zipper of his dress pants. He let go of her to undo his belt, his buttons, and finally unzip his pants. He pushed them down along with his white briefs, unleashing his long and thick cock from its restraints. He couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to take her right now.

“W-Wait…” Petra panted as she put her arms out to hold his chest up before he could crush her with his larger size.

“No, no more waiting. I’ve waited long enough.” Norman said forcefully as he towered over her, trapping her under all of his limbs, lurching over her body with his thick cock hovering over her stomach. He sent Harry away tonight for this very purpose. He threw wads of hundred dollar bills at his useless son and told him to go waste someone else’s time, maybe some red-headed hooker at a seedy club. He told him not to come back until morning, confiscating his keys. All for this.

Norman felt around Petra’s skinny body in the dark until the tip of his hard cock found her wet little slit. He slowly slipped it inside, gasping as her tightness set his body on fire. She bit her lip tightly, whimpering as she took all of him, his large size stretching her in a swirl of pain and bliss. Her mouth opened wide for a loud fulfilling moan as she fell completely under his spell. She felt so small compared to him, and she reached out her arms to hang them around his neck, dangling below him.

“Can you move at all?” He asked.

“Mhm, a little.” She tried to thrust herself against his cock, sliding him in and out, stretching her again and again until her body got used to the size, “G-God…”

“I know.” He boasted with a knowing laugh, “It’s a lot, but you’re a tough one. I know you can take it.”

He held her hips in place while she clung to him. Their chests pressed together and she could feel his shaking breath coming down on her, and he could feel hers on his neck. She was completely in his grasp. He thrusted into her with strained groans. The hot and wet squeezing of her body drove him mad. He pushed harder against her, making her scream for him. He threw his head back his delight, flicking the sweat off his brow into the air. His body burned so intensely and he cackled at the pleasure flowing through his veins.

She silenced his mad laughter with a soft kiss right to his lips. Her blissful face was in tears as she reached the brink of orgasm. She grinded closer to him, pressing her whole body against his as she felt her lower body explode on her.

“Aaah!” She screamed and hissed as she tensed up, shaking violently on him, which drove him past his limit, too. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place, grimacing as his groin flexed to release all of his seed inside of her.

“Norman?” She asked in an almost pleading tone as she came down from her high and realized what he had done. She could feel his warm cum pouring out.

“You’ll be alright.” He assured her, panting as he finally crawled off of her, leaving her in the sprawled position from when they started, “Harry’s or mine, it’ll be an Osborn all the same.”

Chapter Text

The Red Skull was not known to be a man of his word, but today he was keeping his promise. Mrs. Schmidt buttoned up her red dress and pressed the black trim on her collar which was decorated by a Hydra pin. She pulled the pin off and put it back in her jewelry box. There was no need to look so formal today. She adjusted her nylon stockings before stepping into her black pointed heels. She pulled out her hair rollers, brushed the falling curls, and pinned them into place.

“Boys, are you ready to go?” Stephanie put on her mask as she came out of her bedroom.

“Ready when you are, Mom.” Roman stood at attention right outside in the hallway.

“Where’s your brother?” She asked.

“I’m in here.” Charity called from the kitchen. He’d been staring through the darkened glass panel of the teal oven for several minutes. He decided to be a good little helper and make sure the food didn’t burn.

“Is your father’s dinner ready?” His mother asked.

“It smells ready.” Charity answered. She slipped on her oven mitts and pulled multiple foil trays out of the oven.

“Why did you cook so much food if it’s only for Father?” Charity asked.

“Well, your father said that he wanted me to start making more German meals, but I didn’t know which one he liked, so I made bratwurst, schnitzel, strudel and sauerkraut. Just to be on the safe side.” She told him. She covered the dishes with foil so they would stay warm until he came home, “Come now. Let’s go before he comes through that door and changes his mind about the carnival.”

She loaded the boys into the car and drove out of the cul-de-sac, passing by the other houses that were gradually being filled with other families. There was the Kilgrave residence, with a nice lavender shade on their otherwise cookie cutter house, the Immortus residence whose yard was guarded by a ginger cat who meowed loudly throughout the day, the Krueger residence which made frequent calls to the exterminator for their pesticide problems, the Quill residence with the sweetest little girl, and the Slade residence which proudly showed off their new White Ford Mustang in the driveway. These houses all had wives for her to convene with and most had children for her sons to play with. They made good distractions from her torrid moments with the husband.

Parking at the carnival would be a nightmare if there weren’t a reserved section specifically for Pleasant Hill residents close to the entrance gate. Entry was free, too. The boys didn’t worry about their father saving them leftovers at home when they had an array of carnival treats to feast on.

“Cap? Cap!” Natasha called out as she pushed her way through growing crowds of people. This carnival seemed to get bigger by the hour, not that she had any real track of time.

“Peter! Peter! Has anyone seen a boy named Peter Parker anywhere?” Bruce Banner asked around. While those two Avengers looked for their missing pals the traditional way, Tony had already realized the only way to find them was to go the same way they went. And that required tickets. A lot of tickets. So after an endless stretch of knocking over milk bottles, finding balls under moving cups, and popping balloons with darts, he made his way to the service booth with a large wheel of paper tickets. They stacked so thick they obscured his view which made him accidentally knock into a woman holding two drinks, making them spill all over her dress.

“Oh, so sorry ma’am!” Tony set his tickets down to help her, grabbing some nearby napkins from the concessions and patting her red dress with them, “Send me the bill for the dry cleaning, and the cherry Cokes.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just get another one.” The blonde woman said quietly as she wrung out the skirt of her dress.

“The drinks or the dress?” Tony asked in jest as he looked up to see the black mask on her face.

“Both, I guess.” She said, without making eye contact towards him.

“Sorry about that, it looked as lovely as your eyes.” Tony complimented her on the only part of her face he could see, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I doubt it.” She said, “I don’t get out much.”

Tony didn’t want to leave without making up for it, so he ordered two more sodas from the concession bar and handed them to her.

“Isn’t it a little hard to drink with that mask on?” Tony asked

“They’re not for me. They’re for my boys. They wanted to ride the roller coaster, so I’m getting the drinks while they’re on it.” She answered, gesturing over to the snow mountain coaster that could be seen from anywhere in the park.

“Is the drop too scary for Mom?” Tony asked.

“I guess I just don’t have the stomach for it.” She said and tried to walk away, “Thanks for the drinks.”

“Wait, can I at least get your name?” Tony just couldn’t let her go.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to spend too long talking to other men, but she didn’t want to be rude. She looked over her shoulder and told him, “It’s Stephanie Schmidt.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Schmidt.”

“Mrs. Schmidt.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Schmidt, ma’am. I’m Tony Stark.” He returned the introduction. He could tell from her vacant expression that that name meant nothing to her. She just nodded and continued on her way to greet the people coming off the roller coaster.

“Right…” Tony picked up his tickets from where he left them, “Well now that I’m done being distracted, maybe I can finally win that grand prize.”

He finally made it to the ticket counter which had an automated machine that slurped up his tickets like spaghetti.

“Okay, Mr. Stark, your final count is 5,000,0015 tickets. You are now able to cash in 5,000,000 tickets for a grand prize ticket! Congratulations!” The lady at the counter said with a servicing smile.

“What about the other 15 tickets?” Tony asked. She handed him a gummy candy designed like the Spongebob Krabby Patty.

“Okay then.” He sighed and opened his arms out, “Take me to my prize.”

Stephanie stood at the exit gate of the roller coaster just as the twins walked down the platform with wobbly legs. Roman stumbled to the closest trash can and hurled out a chunky waterfall.

“Poor baby. Here, rehydrate.” Stephanie handed Roman his soda.

“It wasn’t even that bad.” Charity boasted as he took his coke and slurped it.

“Guh…” Roman gasped and panted as he got his composure back and took swigs of soda, “...It was awesome.”

“Maybe you two should take it easy in the kiddie corner for a little bit.” Their mother suggested.

“No way, that’s for babies.” Roman dismissed the notion with his whole body, “Let’s do the roller coaster again!”

“But you just upchucked three corn dogs, one funnel cake and a wad of cotton candy’s worth of vomit.” Charity told him.

“That just means I got nothing left to lose.” Roman patted his gut with a firm fist, “Can we go again, Mom, please?”

“Alright, but hurry, before the line gets too long. It’s pretty busy today.” Stephanie told them.

As the twin boys got back in line, a group of high school children got off the ride, laughing and finding their sense of balance.

“[That was really fun! And they made it actually seem like it was snowing!]” Ochako said to the group in their native tongue of Japanese.

“[Yeah, and that drop felt like it went on forever! It was so intense!]” Deku agreed with her.

“[That was so lame. None of these rides give you a real thrill.]” Bakugo said.

“[C’mon, don’t be so negative, Bakugo.]” Kirishima said, “[It was still fun.]”

“[He may have a point. When you’re used to high speeds and quick aerodynamic movements like some of us are, a regular amusement park ride feels tamer in comparison.]” Iida conceded.

“[Yeah, but he didn’t have to say it like that!]” Denki added but then took interest in an attraction he saw across the way, “[Woah cool, they have laser tag here!]”

That got a resounding rabble of agreement from the rest of the class. They rushed over to the laser tag building where they strapped on their armor that had the LED targets and plastic light guns in holsters. The bold colors in their hero costumes glowed brightly in the black lights of the arena. They split into their natural teams of the Dekusquad and the Bakusquad and once the timer started, the rush began.

Class 1-A from UA High School was already a very competitive group, but something about laser tag brought that competitiveness to a new level. They didn’t need their quirks or their support gear, but running along stapled carpet and hiding in the shadows brought out the warriors in them. There was also something oddly romantic about laser tag. Alliances were formed and broken. The darkness hid all sorts of secrets. With adrenaline running high, it was tempting to sneak the object of your affections into a hidden corner where the glow of their game vests were obscured by the pillars and walls of the maze. A kiss, a touch, anything could come out in the heat of the moment.

Naturally, Tokoyami flourished in the dark. He could have obscured his glowing targets with Dark Shadow, but out of good sportsmanship, he refrained from using the unfair advantage. He used his own body to shield Tsuyu from being hit by lasers, even if it meant being hit himself. Denki also did the same for Jirou, pulling her into a dark corner when he saw that Iida was coming towards her direction. Ochaco and Deku watched each other’s sixes as they ran through the maze, light guns blazing. They lost the element of stealth with their fun laughter, though. Ojiro and Hagakure managed to take control of the elevated fort that gave them the best view of the rest of the grounds. The only disadvantage was that everyone could see them when they poked out of the little window, and Hagakure fell dramatically when her vest beeped that she’d been hit. Ojiro asked if she was alright, but she assured him she was just playing it up for the moment. Mina and Kirishima were on Bakugo’s team and followed behind him, but snuck off on their own when their “leader” drew too much attention to himself and kept getting hit. Momo and Todoroki teamed up as they had for finals and protected each other as the enemy team surrounded them.

At the end of the game, everyone was eager to see their scores and the final rankings. The monitors at the exit beeped as the names appeared from the bottom to the top. It gave the number of times they hit someone or got hit, but also how many times they defended or were defended by others.

“[Wow, they’re able to track stuff like that in the dark?]” Kirishima asked.

“[They probably use night vision technology, so they can see us even when we can’t see each other.]” Tsuyu said.

“[Wait, really?]” Denki scratched cheek nervously, and looked at Jirou, who blushed and looked away.

“[That point system really seems like the one they used for our entrance exams. Doesn’t matter because I’ll still-]” Bakugo said until the board beeped with his number and ranking. Number 3. Followed by Number 2, Tokoyami, and Number 1, Izuku.

“[What?! I got so many more hits than him!]” Bakugo immediately contested the score.

“[But you got 0 points when it came to people defending you.]” Sero pointed out.

“[So?! That just means that I don’t need protecting! That should be a good thing!]” Bakugo argued.

“[Or perhaps it means…you’re not worth protecting.]” Iida said, not as an insult but just to logically make sense of the scoring system.

“[Wow, congratulations, Deku! You won!]” Ochaco cheered for Deku.

“[I couldn’t have done it without you. You were watching my back the whole time, which really boosted our defense points.]” Deku said.

And then, the employee running the game came forward, announcing, “Wow, great work, kids. Looks like we have our top scorer of the day! That means you’re not just the first place winner, you’re a grand prize winner.”

The kids didn’t react to his words like he thought they would.

“[What did he say? Something about a ‘grand prize’?]” Tsuyu asked. They understood basic English from Present Mic’s class, but no one was fluent enough to carry on a conversation in English.

“Oh great.” The guard said annoyed, “They’re not dubbed.”

He sighed and grabbed Deku by the arm, “Just come with me, kid.”

“[Oh, I think he meant to say I won a prize.]” Deku chuckled and allowed himself to be carried off by the staff, “[Guess I’ll see you later, guys.]”

“[Hey, who do you think you are?! You can’t just take him!]” Bakugo argued, going after the guard and shoving him from the back, “[And you have to fix your damn game because no one should get points for neede defe-]”

Suddenly, the guard pulled out a stun device and spun around to tase Bakugo in the abdomen, much to the shock of everyone else.

“Please do not assault the staff, sir.” The guard warned him before returning to walking out with Deku, who was now more resistant to go with him.

“[You bastard, come back here!]” Bakugo tried to stand up but could still feel the clenching muscles of his stomach. His friends tried to help him up while the rest of the class tried to follow the guard taking Deku away, but unfortunately, they were quickly lost in the crowd.

“Izuku Midoriya.” The Ringleader announced to the crowd, displaying the already hypnotized teenage boy on the stage, “So young and already sought after by so many villains.”

“[I did it…]” Deku said with a satisfied smile on his face while standing in place, “[I’m…the number one hero.]”

The crowd laughed, and the Ringleader explained, “Excuse him, I had to make him see something worthwhile to get him to stop fighting. Now I don’t even have to restrain him!”

Deku’s armored gloves dangled by his sides, and his jaw lay agape, with drool pooling and spilling over his bottom lip. His green eyes were dull and blank.

“Now I bet you’re wondering why Deku is our grand prize winner today and not All Might. After all, All Might is bigger, stronger, and more similar to our previous winners than Deku is. Surely, he could handle the grand prize without breaking that American spirit of his. But…All Might is old. He’s worn out. His torrid life as a pro hero has left him tired and broken. His heart is still there, but he spent all his tickets before he even got here. Deku, however, is just starting to come into his own and is still burning with potential.”

“[Thank you everyone.]” Deku addressed the audience, “[I couldn’t have done it without my friends, my mom and my teachers supporting me the whole way.]”

“This is our first Japanese grand prize winner, but he certainly won’t be the last.” The Ringleader said, “So now’s the time to announce that there are no subtitles where you’re going. So I’m putting Justin to work for this part of the show.”

She tapped her cane on his cheek, and the next words out of his mouth came in perfect English.

“I promise to continue to do my best to protect this country and everyone in it. All I want is for everyone to have smiles on their faces and know they are safe!” Deku said.

“And then goes for the rest of you, too.” The Ringleader said, “If you haven’t inserted your babelfish into your ears yet, now is the time to do so.”

Some of the villains in the audience reluctantly did so, hoping they could have avoided sticking the slippery yellow nuisance in them altogether.

“And now, for the forced feminization.” The Ringleader announced with an evil smile.

She tapped her cane on him, as she did with all the previous winners, and Deku’s new body began to take shape. The smile fell from his face as he could feel something was wrong. He fell to his knees as he felt his chest grow to the size of oranges.

“Uh-oww!” He cried out, “W-What’s happening to me…?”

The audience clapped and hollered as they watched Deku clutch his hips in pain. They stretched out, making his waist fall into their new curves on his body. It ripped the seams of his uniform, which made the cheering even louder. Then, his crying grew even higher in pitch as his voice became more feminine.

“You know what the most perfect thing about Izuko is?” The Ringleader said, grabbing a handful of “her” scalp to lift her face up to the crowd, “I don’t even have to change this part very much. She’s already blessed with such delicate features; big doe eyes, adorable little freckles, a cute little nose. Even her hair! This fluffy green mess is perfect at any length! If you want her to grow it out, you’ll have to suggest it yourself over dinner. All I’m going to do here is thicken her eyelashes.”

“It hurts! Why does it hurt so much?” Izuko cried out, with her eyes pooling up with tears.

“Oh honey, that’s not even the most painful part.” The Ringleader told her as a brief warning, before Izuko cried out even louder, indicating that her penis was receding into her groin and becoming a vagina. Finally, the transformation was complete.

“Wow, she’s still awake, what a trooper!” The Ringleader said, picking her back up on her feet, “It’s time to start the bidding! Who wants to start at 100 tickets?”

The bidding went as expected. Stain had disposed of his tickets long before the auction began. He wasn’t that kind of villain, and he didn’t want this for the only person who was close to All Might in terms of having a pure hero’s heart. But while he wasn’t forced to bid, he wasn’t allowed to leave until the show was over. The slime villain proudly bid his lot of tickets, but it wasn’t even close to what the other villains had to offer. Deku’s bowl of suitors had more than just a few rotten apples. Toga thought she had a chance, but she didn’t even break the top three. Despite having never proclaimed his feelings nearly as much as her, Dabi outbid her. But then he was quickly outdone by his own leader, and the young boss of the Shie Hassakai.

Shigaraki and Overhaul stared each other down and they bid higher and higher for Izuko Midoriya. Overhaul held up his bidding paddle with his mouth since he still didn’t have his arms here. It was a close match, but ultimately, Shigaraki came out victorious. There was just no outdoing the archnemesis.

“And the grand prize goes to Tomura Shigaraki!” The Ringleader announced.

“S-Shigaraki?” Izuko recognized that name even in her hypnotized state.

“Ssshhh…” The Ringleader swiped her hand over face which made her fall asleep and slump to the floor, “It’s alright. I think you’ll find he’s a perfect match for you. I’m sure he can keep the passion alive for at least five years.”

“Is there anything else I should know before taking my trophy home?” Shigaraki asked.

“Well, I should warn you, there are no quirks in Pleasant Hill. You won’t have your powers, so-” The Ringleader informed him.

“So I’ll be able to hold her without worrying about decaying her in my arms?” Shigaraki finished the thought.”

“That’s the spirit! You see, this is why you won the auction!” The Ringleader gave a playful punch to Shigaraki’s bony shoulder.

Chapter Text

When the students and faculty of Tokyo Jujutsu High found themselves in this mysterious carnival, their first assumption was that some curse user expanded their innate domain. But there were hundreds, maybe thousands of people trapped in here with them, and only a mild sense of alarm. It seemed to expand over a large area and affected many people, so there had to be drawbacks or weaknesses that could be exploited. They split up to cover more ground, with Satoru Gojo taking his first years around. Even though Kento Nanami wasn’t a teacher, he had been caught by this “domain” and had no choice but to assist in either escaping or nullifying this barrier.

“Don’t eat the food. You don’t know what it’ll do to you.” Megumi warned Yuji, who had already gotten distracted by a fried chicken filet on a stick, topped with a jalapeno.

“Gojo said I’m immune to poisons, so I should be fine.” Yuji justified himself before taking a big juicy bite, “Mmm, it’s sooo good!”

“Gojo, shouldn’t you be expanding your own domain or something to overpower this one?” Nobara looked behind her, but their teacher had already fallen to distraction. She saw him seated in the ferris wheel.

“Yaaaay.” Gojo cheered as his swinging cart made its way up to the top. From there, he pulled up his blindfold to fully utilize his Six Eyes. Funny, his cursed energy seemed to be nullified here. A simple domain, perhaps? He crossed his fingers and attempted a domain expansion, but nothing happened. After a few full rotations of the ferris wheel, Gojo got off and rejoined his students. Yuji, who had acquired more food and already won a novelty Star-Spangled tall hat from a ring toss mini game, handed Gojo a chicken on a stick.

“Did you find anything?” Megumi asked.

“No, absolutely nothing.” Gojo tossed the pepper off of his treat and took a bite out of the chicken, “But that’s the thing. I saw nothing. That doesn’t happen. I can’t read any cursed energy here, and there’s no sign of a border. This may not even be a domain, or related to Jujutsu at all.”

“If it’s not Jujutsu, then it’s not our problem.” Megumi said, “So let’s just get out of here.”

“We don’t even know how we got here!” Nobara exclaimed.

“We can figure that out from the safety of home. Let’s go.” Megumi started walking.

“Wait, this place is so fun though! We should stay for at least a little bit longer.” Yuuji insisted, walking to see the other games and rides. Megumi grumbled as he changed course to walk by Yuji’s side, if only to make sure he didn’t die again.

As Yuji, and eventually Nobara and Gojo, rode different rides, Megumi remained on the lookout for an exit.

After a few rounds on the Himalaya spinning ride, Nobara got into it and proposed a challenge, “Iron Stomach contest! First one to finish an extra large cookie crumble milkshake wins!”

Megumi was put on timer duty while his teacher and two friends ignored his warnings and slurped from cups as big as their heads. They were forced to take pauses between brain freezes, except for Gojo who had mastered the art of suppressing the pain of brain freezes in his own teen years. Yuji eventually took up another strategy and ditched the straw to drink it straight, with the assistance of a spoon for the chunky parts, a method that Nobara copied.

With the slam of an empty cup, Megumi stopped his phone timer and declared Gojo the winner. With Yuji closely behind, and Nobara in last.

“Oooh does it hurt to lose at your own challenge, Kugisaki? Don’t worry, I’ll win you a teddy bear to make you feel better.” Gojo boasted.

“I don’t need a pity prize! And that was just Part 1 of the Iron Stomach contest.” Nobara said.

“Part 2 is riding a really intense spinning ride at least 3 times. If you puke, you lose the whole game!” Yuji explained.

“Then what was the point of timing the first part?”

“I don’t even ask anymore.” Megumi responded.

The group moved onto the Centrifuge, with Megumi waiting outside of the ride. He didn’t want to be in the splash zone. After two turns on the ride, the group walked back out.

“Feel anything yet?”

“Nope, nothing.”

“We should go on something even faster for the last ride!” Yuji said and spotted the Tagada, a ride that not only spun like a disc, but also moved up and down and tilted in every direction at the mercy of the operator without the option of seatbelts, “Like that one!”

As the class of first years approached the dangerous ride, they found their upperclassmen were already on it. Maki held onto the railing, taking the bounces in stride, while Panda was sliding across the floor and Inumaki was balancing in the middle, trying to keep himself standing. But Panda eventually slid into him and knocked him off his balance, so then they were both sliding on the floor.

When the ride slowed down, that gave the younger students the chance to get on and join the second years, who stayed on.

“There’s still room for more, go on ahead.” The ginger-haired operator smiled and gestured for Megumi to follow his friends.

“No, thank you.” Megumi said in English. He wasn’t perfectly fluent, but he knew gestures and context. Reading it was easier than hearing it spoken. While he waited, he found Nanami walking by.

“Ah, Mr. Nanami, find anything?” Megumi asked.

“Yes and no. I’m not finding any cursed energy anywhere, which is odd because the average fairgrounds have at least traces of it.” Nanami said

“Yeah, that’s what Gojo said, too. He said he doesn’t even think Jujutsu’s at play here. So we’ve been trying to find an exit.” Megumi explained.

Nanami looked at all of the students on the Tagada and saw Gojo among them, “And how’s that going?”

Megumi looked over and saw Yuji dancing around the center, Nobara screaming and clinging to Maki as she bounced up and down on her leg, and Gojo leaning off the side, losing the contest. The operator was having his fun turning the dials anyway he wanted.

“Not good. They got a little distracted.” Megumi answered.

“Of course.” Nanami rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I was going to tell him that I’ve been asking around and there have been several reports of people going missing at this carnival. They said that after certain activities and games, certain people have been selected as a ‘grand prize winner’ and separated from their groups. They’re then whisked away from staff and haven’t been seen since.”

“How long have they been missing?” Megumi asked.

“That’s another thing. They said at least a few hours, but they all reported feeling a sense of time distortion here, so they don’t exactly know.” Nanami explained.

Megumi pulled out his phone and looked at the orange sky. He showed his phone to Nanami, “12:18am. Does it look like midnight to you?”

“There are parts of the world where the day and night skies can last for weeks on end…but that doesn’t explain this.” Nanami held up his own phone which read 3:06pm.

“So time is useless here. And we have no idea how we got here. And our party keeps getting distracted. Almost like a long shared dream.” Megumi said.

“Excuse me, sir. Where can I find your manager?” Nanami asked the Tagada operator.

“Beats me. She’s all over the place these days. She won’t even answer her radio.” The operator said without even taking his eyes off the controls, “She’s probably on stage in one of the tents, but you need special tickets to go in.”

“What happens on stage?” Megumi asked.

“Sorry, can’t give it away. Company policy.” The operator turned his head behind and smiled, “But there is a free comedy show later this evening. No tickets needed. You might be able to speak to her there.”

Pleasant Hill

Down the road from Cherry Street, a new block was in development, with a different style of housing. Sakura Lane had only one of its traditional Japanese-style homes completed, but the first family was already making their way in. Mrs. Izuko Shigaraki carried in boxes of her belongings that had traveled across the sea. Her husband, Tomura, set down his own box and rubbed the sliding door frame with his fingers.

“So this is our new home.” He commented. He also touched the fading black cotton fabric of his traditional kimono.

“It’s so much bigger than our old one! I can’t wait to get settled in.” Izuko opened her box and pulled out her collection of novelty figurines depicting various classic American comic strip characters to display on the shelf.

“You’re really buying into this whole ‘American’ thing, aren’t you?” Tomura asked.

“Well, yes. I’ve read all about this place. My teacher used to give me all these books on American culture.” Izuko explained, clasping her hands together on her pink vine-detailed kimono.

“Which teacher was this?” Tomura asked.

“Oh you know…” Izuko tried to come up with the answer herself, but her mind was drawing a blank, and yet she didn’t feel like it was right to admit the lapse in her memory, “Well, I usually just called him Sensei.”

“You seem so excited, it’s like you don’t even miss your old life.” Tomura said, walking over to her and touching her face.

Izuko seemed hesitant to feel his fingers on her chin, but then she just let them rest there.

“My old life?” Izuko couldn’t remember anything from her life in Japan. Even this Sensei she mentioned was a fuzzy memory, with a blurred face and distorted voice, “I just…well…it’s like you said. This is our new home, and you are my new life.”

She said it so softly, he had to smile. He cupped her whole cheek and rubbed his thumb along her freckles. Her cute confused face looked perfect to him. He leaned in to kiss her, pressing his dry gray lips against her pink ones, squeezing her face as he did so.

***
Although the sorcerers couldn’t discern what counted as “this evening” in this place without time, they found the aforementioned tent after following a string of signs announcing the comedy show. The students and adults filed in to get seats, but the adults especially kept their eye out for the “boss.”

“Make way, winner of the Iron Stomach contest coming through.” Yuji bragged as he scooched across to a good seat.

“Not fair. Gojo said you’re immune to poisons anyway, so you had an advantage.” Nobara griped, slurping a sports drink to replenish her lost electrolytes that escaped from her stomach.

“It was your idea! Why did you challenge me if you knew that?”

“Because it would be even cooler if I won against you of all people.”

“Ssshh.” The second years shushed both of them as the house lights went down and the audience quieted and looked to the stage.

The spotlight hit center stage as the curtains drew, and three people in different colored T-shirts ran out from the wings smiling and waving. In a black and white swirled tee was the Tagada operator that Nanami had spoken to earlier. In a purple tee was the regular security guard who often led winners to their prize. And then, front in center in a red shirt was the Ringleader, though she wore nothing of note to give an impression of her rank. Rather than introduce themselves, the three performers went right into their warm up game, Questions Only. When the Ringleader turned to the crowd and asked for a suggestion of a place you wouldn’t expect to hold a wedding, the audience quickly realized that the free comedy show was specifically an improv comedy show. So they awkwardly started throwing out suggestions.

“A public restroom!”

“Prison!”

“The zoo!”

“The zoo! We’ll take that one.” The Ringleader said, “A wedding at the zoo, go!”

The two men stood face to face to begin their scene.

“Have you seen my groom?” The red-haired ride operator put on a panicky girly voice.

“Is that him by the bonobo exhibit?” The purple guard pointed towards the audience.

The ride operator squinted, “What are those monkeys doing to him?”

“Ooof, do you think he can grow those back?”

“Can’t you help him?!”

“Do I look like I work here, lady?”

“Can you call someone who does?”

“How about you take care of your own husband?”

“He won’t be when those-Aw, Damn it!” A buzzer rang to end the scene after the chain was broken.

“Okay, let’s get right into our next game!” The Ringleader announced, “This one is called ‘Party Quirks’ and I’m going to need a volunteer from the audience.”

The sorcerers looked at each other, and then Yuji raised his hand. Gojo raised his hand as well.

“You with the pink hair.” The Ringleader chose her volunteer, “Get on up here.”

Yuji made his way to the stage as instructed with the rest of his classmates and teachers watching him. As he did so, the other actors rolled a prop door onto the stage.

“Tell us your name, kid.” She instructed and held up her microphone to his face. The spotlight fell on him.

“Yuji Itadori.” He said plainly.

“And where are you from, Yuji Itadori?”

“I’m from Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

“Ooohh, Tokyo! Beautiful city. So how this game works, Yuji, is that I’m going to be throwing a party, and you and my two buddies are invited, but you’re not coming as yourselves.” The Ringleader handed him a folded up slip of paper, “When you walk through that door, you’re going to act like whatever is written on this paper, and you’re going to keep going until I can guess correctly what you are. Do you get it?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen this game before.” Yuji nodded.

“Good boy! Now stand behind the door.” She told him before she officially started the scene, walking around the stage and miming out the pouring of chips into a bowl and the stirring of something in a pot.

“Mmm, my abuela’s nacho dip recipe is just what I needed to make this party work.” She said. And then the first actor knocked on the door, “Oh, my guests are here!”

She opened the prop door and the purple guard walked in with a swagger and made the sound effect of spurs clinking as he took each step.

“Howdy, pardner.” He tipped his hat.

“Thanks for coming! Please help yourself to some refreshments.”

“Don’t mind if I do, little lad-” He took a couple more steps forward before he pretended to fall asleep on the spot.

Yuji found the guard’s discarded paper behind the door and read “Narcoleptic Cowboy” written in red pen. He looked at his own paper and read that he would be a “Miss Universe contestant.”

When it was his turn, he knocked on the door, and the Ringleader opened it for him. He walked through and made his way across the stage. He took a gander at the audience to look for his group, but he couldn’t see past the bright stage lights.

“Hey, glad you could make it! Is there anything I can get you?” The Ringleader asked.

He tried to think of something that a pageant contestant would say. Did he have to say something normal or say something funny? This game was harder than it looked.

“Um…world peace?” He said. Laughter erupted from the audience, but…it didn’t sound like natural laughter. It sounded like canned laughter from a sitcom. He walked downstage to get a better look at the audience, but he found the rows empty.

“Whoa, where did everybody go?” He asked.

“They’re not here yet. We’re still waiting for the rest of the guests so we can get this party started.” The Ringleader said, still in the scene. And then there was a knock at the door, “Could you do me a favor and get that for me? I have to grab something from the oven.”

Yuji curiously looked at her and then went back to the door, opening it, but finding no one behind it. He walked through to look for the other actor, but when he came out on the other side, he was met with louder canned laughter. He looked down and found that he was suddenly wearing a shiny silver bikini over his uniform. He was also facing the audience instead of upstage like he was supposed to.

“What the-?!” He exclaimed and tried to run back through the door again, but the laughter got louder and was joined by loud whistling and applause. He was still wearing the bikini, but now it was the only thing he was wearing.

He ran back through the door again, to more laughter and more applause. Now his waist was curving in and changing the shape of his hips. His chest also inflated to fill in the bikini.

“Ah? What’s happening?” Yuji ran away from the door, crossed the stage, and tried to go through the curtains instead. But as he came out the other side, he found another stage, or maybe the same stage.

His friends and teachers had been replaced by hundreds of curses and curse users in the audience, all cheering for him. Or rather, for her.

“Come on out, sweetheart.” The Ringleader, now donned in her appropriate gear fitting her title, grabbed the young woman’s hand and led her to the front of the stage. She walked in silver heels that matched her bikini, and a satin sash reading “Miss Japan” draped across her curvy torso. Her long pink hair cascaded down her back.

“Now, tell me your name?” The Ringleader asked.

“My name…is Yuuji Itadori.” The young woman answered, her mind barely forming the answer.

“And where are you from, Miss Itadori?”

“...Tokyo.” Yuuji said. That’s all she knew. Everything else was gone. She had never been a very smart girl, but surely she had to know more than her own name and where she lived.

“Alright, Miss Itadori, please stand over here and strike a pose.” The Ringleader told her, and she followed her instructions. Yuuji catwalked to the center of the stage and threw one arm up in the air as the other held her hip. She flipped her hair as she gazed at the audience, who cheered in various monstrous tones and whistles.

“That’s a good girl.” The Ringleader muttered under her breath before addressing the audience, “Okay, it looks like we’re ready to start the bidding.”

After a few more games, the improv comedy show ended, and the audience was officially released from their seats and ushered out by staff.

“But what about Yuji? He volunteered for a scene and he never came through the door.” Megumi asked.

“Oh, he’s backstage.” A woman in a cap that read “stage manager” told him as she looked at her clipboard.

“Can you go get him?.” Megumi asked.

“Sorry, you’ll have to wait outside for him. We have to set up the auditorium for the next event.” She said as the staff was already changing out the set and putting speakers and carrying DJ tech on stage.

This is what Nanami mentioned. “Winners” are taken away by staff and go missing.

“I’m not leaving without him.” Megumi insisted.

“Sir, you can’t stay here. Everyone has to leave.” The stage manager said again, more harshly. The rest of the school had already left the auditorium, save for Gojo and Nanami who were looking for Megumi and spotted him arguing with the staff.

“Take me to where he is.” Megumi asserted.

“Oh, so now you want to do something? Now you want to participate?” The stage manager said, adjusting her headset.

“What do you mean by that?”

“All day, you’ve just been watching your friends have fun. They took part in everything we had to offer, and you just stood by. So by all means, please, make your way back to the fairgrounds and just continue to wander and watch everyone else. It makes no difference to me.” The stage manager told him.

“Fushiguro, come on! Let’s go!” Gojo called for his boy. He wasn’t planning on leaving. He and Nanami were planning on sneaking their way backstage to avoid exiting the auditorium, but Megumi antagonizing the staff head-on could jeopardize that plan.

“Please, there’s gotta be something you can do. He’s my best friend, I need to see for myself that he’s okay.” Megumi pleaded quietly.

“Hmmm, well…” The stage manager smiled devilishly, “I suppose I could find a place for you…backstage…if you’re willing to play along.”

“Yeah, I’ll…play along, whatever that means.” Megumi said.

“Alright, come with me.” The stage manager grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him up the stage towards the curtains.

“Fushiguro. Fushiguro!” Gojo called out, but as he followed them towards the stage, large bursts of smoke blew out from the top of the stage. The staff was testing the smoke machines and the large cloud that now covered the stage obscured Gojo’s view and knocked him back a step. Once the air cleared, both Megumi and the stage manager were gone.

“We lost two of them?” Nanami voiced his disbelief.

Mrs. Schmidt made her daily walk down the grocery aisle in her fitted polka-dotted dress. She walked through the fruit aisle and ran her fingers over the bright red apples that were on deal today. She needed the freshest for the two apple pies she was making today. Welcoming gifts for the newest residents in town. Sakura Lane was still a developing street, but it already had two new wives that she was eager to meet.

She would understand if the Japanese families living there would be apprehensive to meet the local American families, given their all too recent positions as enemies during The War. But that war was over, and she wanted to show that there were no hostile feelings here in Pleasant Hill. This was a warm inviting community where everyone of every nationality was welcome.

She added a dozen apples to her grocery cart, next to the sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, eggs, and a single lemon. Then, she took them to the register to check out and have them bagged. She walked out of the grocery store with two full paper grocery bags, but someone caught her eye as she stepped out of the sliding doors.

A man, who appeared to be homeless, sat on a blanket just next to the mechanical horse ride. He sat against the wall with his left green jacket sleeve tied in a knot at the shoulder, showing he was missing his left arm entirely. He heard the ring when the mechanical doors opened and looked at Mrs. Schmidt as she stood with her groceries. Their eyes met, and they locked in a silent gaze.

The stubble on his strong chin would soon thicken into a full beard, and his long dark oily hair was kept under a faded black baseball cap. His jacket covered a red long-sleeved shirt, and he rested his one arm on his torn jeans.

Mrs. Schmidt didn’t say anything to the homeless man. She just placed one of her apples on his blanket before making her way back to the car.

She could spare one apple to help a poor man out. The pies for Mrs. Shigaraki and Mrs. Sukuna would still taste great.

Chapter Text

The carnival grounds continued to expand, with more paths and tents appearing in the blink of an eye. Along the dirt path, an open field of lush green grass manifested just outside the bulk of the attractions. Eventually, the Survey Corps passed through this field on horseback, noticing the arrangement of banners, tents, wooden picnic tables and a tall maypole. No one occupied this area except for a lone employee dressed in barmaid attire, pouring glasses of cold freshly squeezed juice along the tartan tablecloths.

“Excuse me, Miss.” Commander Erwin, “Are you celebrating something?”

“I’m just preparing for the arrival of my guests, whom I guess would be you.” She said, scanning the array of green-cloaked scouts.

“Isn’t it dangerous to be holding a public celebration while there are Titans roaming about?” Erwin asked.

“No one’s supposed to be out here. All civilians are supposed to stay behind Wall Rose for their own safety.” Captain Levi added.

“Titans? Is that a gang?” The employee asked, continuing to pour drinks.

“Is this lady playing dumb with us? Everyone knows what Titans are.” Connie whispered to Sasha in the back of the formation.

“Ma’am, have you seen anything huge and ugly that barely resembles a human run around wreaking havoc recently?” Levi asked, since maybe she just didn’t use the word Titan for the monsters.

…I would make a joke at my ex’s expense right now, but I’m trying to be a nicer person this year.” The barmaid said, scratching her noticeably pointed ear that had been hiding in her large poofy hair.

“Are there really no Titans here?” Armin whispered to Eren and Mikasa.

“Sounds too good to be true.” Jean said, “Maybe it’s a trick. Part of some trap.”

“To what, rob us? With these numbers?” Eren said, “We’d tear them down like nothing. Also acting like Titans don’t exist is just more suspicious.”

“I don’t know anything about any big monsters running around.” The barmaid opened the veil from a large camping tent, “but lunch is ready if you all are hungry.”

Under the shade of the linen tent was a long table of freshly cooked food on silver platters, which won over one of the scouts immediately.

“Turkey leg!” Sasha exclaimed as she leaped off her horse and dove for the largest plate right away.

“Sasha!” Both Connie and Jean jumped off to follow her and try to contain her, but there was no stopping her once freshly cooked meat was in her mouth.

“Oh goodness, my manager wasn’t kidding when he said that the Scout Regiment was a hungry bunch. Please enjoy yourselves, I insist.” The barmaid opened her arms to offer her hospitality.

The scouts were in no position to refuse a free meal. They had been wandering for what felt like eternity, losing track of all the recognizable landmarks that pointed towards home. Their rations were low and their morale even lower. The lack of Titan sightings had been pleasant but also concerning for the commander. With a nod of his head, Erwin gave his regiment permission to partake in the feast before them.

Everyone helped themselves to the turkey, roast beef, shepherd’s pie, creamed corn, scalloped potatoes, spring salad, and so many other assorted trays. They had to quickly fill their plates with their choice of meats first before Sasha got to them. They dined at the picnic tables and chatted amongst themselves about this mysterious paradise with no Titans and an abundance of food and drink.

“This place seems too good to be true. There has to be a catch.” Levi said to Erwin and Hange at their private table.

“Our only source of information would be our hostess, so I’m starting there.” Erwin said. He took one swig of his beer so as not to be a rude guest, “Excuse me, ma’am?”

The woman turned with a tray in one hand and her hip in the other.

“You said earlier that your manager had mentioned us to you, and yet there are no Titans in this area. So how do they know the Survey Corps?” Erwin asked.

“Word of mouth, I suppose. For years people have mentioned how an army of green-cloaked soldiers ride around with sharp blades to fight monsters and protect their home. The big boss is interested in those kinds of things so it was only a matter of time before the story made it around to her. I’m pretty new here myself, so I don’t know all the details. My manager probably knows more but his office is up in the main fairgrounds. Just a little farther from here.” She explained.

“I’ll go.” Levi immediately volunteered to leave this place and explore further. Erwin allowed him to go ahead while he and Hange stood watch over the rest of the scouts. If anything suspicious happened, they’d quickly respond to it.

Captain Levi jumped on his horse and rode to these “fairgrounds” which were much larger than he anticipated. These weren’t just fairgrounds, this was a bustling city. He trotted along the various paths and saw technologies he couldn’t even dream of. There were also stands of even more varieties of foods and drinks, and a standing tea dispenser that caught his eye. Black tea was an option. One cup couldn’t hurt.

He dismounted and grabbed an insulated cup from the dispenser and poured himself a small sample. After tasting it, he used the same cup to pour himself a regular serving. He leaned against the frame of a wooden stall as he took in the sight, scanning for anyone who looked in charge that he could investigate.

“Excuse me, has anyone seen Cap? Excuse me, excuse me.” A man in a red and black tactical suit was rushing through the crowd, asking everyone he could see, “Excuse me, has anyone here seen Captain America? My good friend?”

When this man bumped into Levi, he asked him as well, “Excuse me sir, did you see Captain America running around here anywhere?”

“I don’t know who that is, so I’m afraid I have to say no.” Levi answered him.

“You…you don’t know Captain America?” The man rubbed his head, “Huh…well do you know me? Scott Lang? Ant-Man? We’re sort of partners, we’re the Avengers!”

“Nope, never heard of ‘em.” Levi said, taking a sip from his tea.

“Huh…maybe that’s why no one’s been able to help me.” Scott rubbed the back of his head, “I guess no one knows who we are here. Damn, that just made finding him a lot harder…”

Scott groaned and dipped to his knees in distress.

“Look, just tell me what your friend looks like and I’ll keep an eye out for him.” Levi took pity on the man.

“Well, he’s tall, about this tall.” Scott held his arm up, “Blond hair, striking blue eyes, a jaw of justice and an ass like no tomorrow and he’s usually dressed in all blue, stars and stripes.”

“Mhm. You had me in the first half.” Levi said.

“It’s just…it’s really important we find him. He’s the leader of our team. Without him, we don’t know what to do.” Scott said.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Levi nodded. Scott thanked him and went on his way.

A lost person in a big crowd like this wasn’t a surprise. Levi expected he’d find him eventually with patience. But then a woman came up to him asking if he’d seen her friend Tony, the smartest and yet dumbest man she’d ever known. He said no but took the description anyways. And then some kids came around looking for their friend, and once again, they described him as the best among them. More people approached him, desperately looking for somebody, and while their physical descriptions differed, the people looking for them always enunciated their importance, sometimes elaborating on their profound beauty as well.

Levi finished his cup and got back on his horse. He felt no need to find the maid’s boss when he got the real story from all these people. He galloped away from the carnival, back towards the field where the scouts were still thoroughly enjoying their little break. He found Armin plucking flowers from the grass and fashioning them into flower crowns.

“How’d you do that?” Eren asked.

“It’s easy. You just take the stems and loop them around and then stick the next one through like this, and keep going.” Armin showed them.

“Let me try.” Eren sat down with him and tried to follow his example. Mikasa did as well.

“These flowers are really lovely.” Mikasa commented, “I don’t think I’ve seen these kind back home.”

“I guess they’re the kind that take more time to grow. Most of the flowers we have back home are weeds that sprout overnight, even after a Titan attack. These breeds don’t have to worry about being stomped on by big feet.” Armin explained as he picked a whole patch to give his friends material to work with.

“No, they just have to worry about Bertholdt’s big feet now.” Eren peered over to the group still sitting at the picnic table. Bertholdt, Annie and Reiner sat quietly as they still ate from their plates. Though this was supposed to be a Scouts mission, Annie the MP was here with them. Though she couldn’t explain why. Meanwhile, Connie and Jean kneeled on grass around their table, taking in an impossible sight.

“This can’t be real. This has to be a dream.” Connie muttered.

Jean patted him on the back, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Between them, Sasha lay on the ground, her belly distended, and her mouth drooling.

“Gahh…I’m so full…can’t eat…another bite.” Sasha moaned.

“No way! Not our Sasha!” Connie exclaimed, “It has to be an imposter. The real Sasha is insatiable!”

When Levi returned, he gathered the rest of the Survey Corps in a huddle to discuss his findings.

“Almost everyone I talked to had someone close to them go missing. For some, it was their captain, their tech guy, their top private detective. For others it was their best friend or their lover. And some even just said that their exceptionally beautiful coworker disappeared. But they all said it was the best person they’d ever known.” Levi explained.

“You sure they’re not just raising them up because they miss them?” Ymir asked.

“That’s what I thought. But they were all upset because the person they lost was the last person they’d expect to go missing. Their leaders, their star pupils, the smartest, strongest and most special person in their lives.” Levi elaborated.

“Hmm…” Armin held the finished flower crown in his hand, “...maybe they’ve been recruited for something. Something that requires the cream of the crop.”

“I knew this place was too good to be true.” Jean said, “Looks like it’s time to bail.”

“No.” Erwin interjected, “We can’t leave just yet.”

That confused the whole group, why would they stay if it truly was dangerous here?

“We’re the Scout Regiment, we don’t run away from the unknown. We seek it out. Exploration at the expense of our own personal comfort is our way.” Erwin insisted.

“But what if one of us disappears?” Armin asked.

“Then that person is one step closer to the truth than the rest of us.” Erwin said, “We’re out of our element here. If there is an unseen enemy, attacking blindly or fleeing likely won’t get us out of this. We have to play by their rules, until we figure out their game, so we can beat them at it.”

With that, they returned to their picnic, but with a tense cloud hanging over them. If Levi was right, the best and brightest of them would go missing.

“It’s probably going to be Commander Erwin.” Armin as he sat in a circle with Mikasa and Eren as they all continued to make new flower crowns.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Eren countered as he twisted the stems of his flowers into place, “Sure he’s our leader, but that doesn’t automatically make him the best of us.”

“What does that really mean? The best of us…the strongest, the smartest…what if the strongest isn’t even close to the smartest? And the other way around? Which one would be taken away?” Mikasa asked, looking within her group.

“He said it’s someone that the others missed dearly. So much that they were lost without them…” Eren said, “If I were to take away the best of us…I’d have a hard time choosing between either of you. I’d have to flip a coin.”

Mikasa and Armin looked at him and shared a single thought.

“Don’t leave my side, Krista. No one’s going to take you away from me.” Ymir wrapped herself around Krista, “When they take you, they’ll have to drag me along with you.”

“When?” Krista asked nervously.

Reiner also stood by Krista’s side, “The captain also mentioned that those who are taken away are of exceptional beauty…so…it might just be you.”

Bertholdt remained seated next to Annie. He didn’t say anything to her. He just watched her cautiously. Strong, smart, beautiful…and without her, he’d be lost. He watched her until she shot daggers with her eyes at him for staring.

“Mikasa…” Jean approached her while she remained seated in the grass, “...whatever comes for you, we’ll fight them off and force them to tell us what they’re planning.”

“What makes you so sure they’ll choose me?” Mikasa asked him.

“I would choose you.” Jean said softly. Mikasa didn’t know how to respond to that, so she looked back at her flower crown.

“Everyone! It’s time for the main event, the Maypole dance!” The barmaid clapped her hands and announced loudly.

She served everyone fresh citrus juice with a hint of herbs and ordered everyone to make a circle around the pole and hold onto a colorful ribbon. When Erwin, Levi, and Hange tried to join in the circle, the barmaid stopped them.

“Ah ah ah, this activity is for our younger guests.” She insisted, “But feel free to watch and have another drink.”

She returned to the center of the circle and looked around, “I see so many beautiful youths here today. Spring is approaching, which means it is your time to frolick and make merry. For this game, you will dance around the maypole, braiding your ribbons around the pole while I play music. When the tempo gets faster, you will dance faster. You will dance until you fall. All of you will fall. The last one standing wins. Simple enough, yes?”

All the scouts stood ready, feeling a haze come over them. The barmaid pulled a flute from her back pocket and started playing a happy little dancing tune. Their feet started moving to the song they’d never heard. Their light steps made them feel like they were floating along the grass. They moved over and past each other, twirling around and twisting their ribbons in twine.

Then, Connie and Sasha bumped into each other and knocked themselves over.

“Aw man.” Connie groaned and couldn’t find the strength to stand up. He felt so disoriented and his vision was blurry. Sasha was knocked out from her food coma.

Jean fell shortly after when he tripped over his crew. When Annie realized this could be over sooner rather than later, she threw herself on the ground. One by one, the comrades came tumbling down into the grass.Krista held on as long as she could, with Ymir dancing with her like their lives depended on it, but they soon tired themselves out and fell on top of each other. It came down the Shiganshina Trio, adorned in their flower crowns, still dancing around the circle. They were all feeling woozy from the citrus juice and the general atmosphere, but they endured as much as they could.

“Can’t…go on…don’t forget me…” Armin slurred as he slowed down and fell to his knees, his flower crown slipping off his head.

“Armin!” Eren called out and reached for him to catch him before he fell, but he was too far away.

“Just keep dancing, Eren.” Mikasa told him, locking her arms with Eren as they skipped across the circle, braiding their ribbons across the pole.

The world appeared to slow down, and Eren could feel the drowsiness and exhaustion taking over. He leaned down across Mikasa’s shoulder, but just as he was about to fall, Mikasa pushed him back up to his feet and that force worked against her and sent her to the ground instead.

There he was, the last man standing.

“Congratulations, we have our new May Queen!” The barmaid returned to the field and dressed Eren in a cap made from the same colorful flowers that made his friends’ flower crowns.

From the sidelines, Levi whispered to Erwin, who he hadn’t taken his eyes off of, “Do you think this is part of the selection process?”

“Or a distraction.” Erwin suggested.

“May Queen?” Eren asked, “But I’m a-”

“You’ll see.” The barmaid smiled. Then, a gust of wind blew through the field, picking up all the flowers from their field. They swirled around Eren and the barmaid in a colorful small tornado. And when the wind dispersed, the flowers fell to the ground and they were both gone.

“Nope, Levi was right. It was the selection process.”

Eren found himself in a familiar spot. His hands were cuffed behind his back as he kneeled close to the ground, securing him to the maypole he and his friends had just weaved. But his friends were gone, along with the grassy field and the natural light of the sun. He looked around at the darkness surrounding him and could only ask,

“Hey, what is this?! Where am I?”

“Ah, Eren Jaeger.” The Ringmaster called out before the stage lights turned on, revealing the circular stage they stood on, “You’ve evaded me for so long, but it was only a matter of time before I got my hands on you. Everyone else spoke so highly of you, but I have to admit, at first you weren’t my cup of tea. I thought you were all snuff and gorn.”

Eren tried to bite into his shoulder to transform himself but the Ringmaster poked him with her cane before he could sink his teeth in and made a bar gag appear in his mouth, “Ah ah ah, none of that. I’m not done.”

He struggled and audibly screamed into the gag, fighting against his restraints like a wild animal.

“But since you know you can transform, it looks like you’re well into Season 1, or maybe even Season 2. But, I didn’t find you truly worthy of this prize until Season 4 so let’s fix that.” She tapped him again, and his body creaked and stretched as he aged four years before her eyes. He groaned as his cheekbones and jaw grew into his face, making his features more defined and mature. His arms and legs lengthened and became more toned.

“There, now the show can really begin.” More stage lights appeared, revealing the second ring around them containing the audience. It was a small but dedicated crowd containing an overwhelming majority of Marleyans, including Bertholdt, Annie, and Reiner, who just moments ago had been in the running to be on the stage themselves. And among the few bidders from Paradis Island was Commander Zachary, who had a chair with Eren’s name on it.

“Commence the feminization!” The Ringleader announced as she swirled her cane around. She could see Eren struggling against his wrist restraints, trying to pull the move where he breaks his thumbs off to slip through the cuffs. She made it easier for him and started with his hands, making them smaller and more delicate so that there was no need to injure himself. He slipped out and tried to attack her with a punch and a roar, but the Ringleader caught an opening and whacked him across the face with the cane, both sending him to the floor and transforming his face.

“For you, I’ve chosen the renowned model and actress, Emrata.” She announced, “For the face at least. You still get to keep your captivating unique eye color.”

“It doesn’t matter what you turn me into. I’m still going to kick your ass and get back to my friends!” Eren declared in a clearly different voice.

“Love the energy. Keep that up.” She said. When he charged at her this time, she snapped her fingers and teleported to the other side of him, jabbing her cane into his back. He gasped as he felt his chest engorge and his genitals retreating into his groin.

“Okay, you go night night now.” She told her new creation and waved her hand to put the latest winner to sleep. She walked over and turned her face with her cane to get a better look.

“Awww, how sweet. You look just like your mother.” The Ringerleader commented before she faced the bidders, “And now, for the bidding!”

The small crowd put on a heated auction, but at the end of the day, there was a clear winner with much more tickets than everyone else. He came up to the stage to accept his prize, and the Ringleader’s eyes widened and lips pursed in shock. Then, she thought about it, and then smiled in amusement. She didn’t normally ask the auction winner to introduce themselves, but she just had to make this a part of the show.

“Congratulations! Can you tell the audience your name please?” The Ringleader asked.

“Of course.” The blonde man adjusted his glasses, which caught the stage lights and hid his eyes, “My name is Zeke Jaeger.”

“Oh, wow. You have the same last name as our grand prize. Is that a coincidence or what?” She told the crowd, but Zeke could hear the sarcasm in her tone.

“It sounds like you already know it’s not.”

“Then, by all means, please tell our audience your relation to her.” The Ringleader goaded him.

He scratched his ear with his opposite hand and said out loud what most of the audience didn’t already know, “I’m her half-brother.”

The audience expectedly gasped and oooh’d.

“Wow, what a touching reunion. Now that doesn’t mean anything yet. After all, we’ve had winners give their prize to someone else as a gift before. Is that what you intend? To give your sister to someone?” She asked, with once again, that off tone.

He snickered, “Now you and I both know I intend to take her home as my wife.”

Now the crowd really reacted and whispered amongst themselves.

“Oh, scandalous. But…not a dealbreaker here. I’ll just adjust the tags as needed.” The Ringleader said, “Now, do you share a father or share a mother?”

“We share a father.”

“And did you grow up together?”

“No, we did not. I didn’t even know I had a sibling until recently.”

“How tragic, and in a fucked up way, romantic.” The Ringleader smiled and touched Zeke’s beard with the tip of her fingers, “You look so much like your father. And as I said before, she looks so much like her mother. In a way, it’s like Carla and Grisha found each other again.”

“Call it whatever you like.” Zeke said as he scooped up “Erin” in his arms.

The Ringleader opened a hatch on the stage floor and guided them to the spiraling staircase hidden within it, “Right this way, my Beauty and the Beast Titan.”

Zeke carried the unconscious Erin down the steps, circling around until the concrete steps turned into hardwood stairs with black metal railings that lead them down to the ground floor of their two-story suburban home. Zeke took in his new surroundings and placed his sleeping bride on the green velvet couch that sat in their living room. Her scout uniform had been replaced with a pure white peasant dress. He looked around at their new surroundings, including their state of the art kitchen, his office filled with books, and their large pool in their backyard complete with a diving board.

This was never how he thought his plan would turn out, but he had come to expect the unexpected. Whatever it took to keep Eren from fulfilling his destiny. Living in luxury was just an added bonus.

Chapter Text

Megumi woke up on a street corner that reeked of wood rot and cigarettes. If he had his memories, he’d have noticed that his uniform jacket was missing. All he had was his casual white tee, dark pants, and red tennis shoes, and even the shirt fit tighter than he liked. It had been altered to fit his new surroundings. He stood up and stretched, and heard the honking of cars in the distance, even though there were none on the street in front of him. He checked his reflection in the glass window of the closest building. He recognized himself, despite the new profound bags under his eyes, but he couldn’t think of his past or his purpose.

When he walked a little further, he found that the building was a bar called Luke’s. He could see through the glass door that the bartender was a tall muscular bald black man, and he was cleaning glasses behind the counter. When Megumi walked in, it rang a small bell that alerted the bartender to his guest.

“Evening, stranger. Aren’t you a little young for a place like this?” Luke asked him politely.

“I’m not here for a drink. I just need to find out where I am.” Megumi told him.

“You’re at my fine establishment, the nicest bar on Skid Row. I’m Luke Cage, good to meet you.” The man held his hand out for a shake.

“Megumi Fushiguro.” He shook the man’s hand but also bowed his head.

“Fushiguro, huh? Sounds like you’re one of the folks from Sakura Lane. Do you have a place that way?”

“No.” Megumi said, for somehow this was something he knew for a fact, “I don’t…have a place anywhere.”

Luke looked at him sadly and put his arm around his shoulder, “Then you’re right where you need to be. Come take a walk with me, boy.”

He escorted him back to the street for a walk around their block. The red bricks of the buildings were coated in graffiti. On the opposite corner, a group of grizzly men filled an empty trash can with newspapers and wood chips and anything else they could use as kindling for the night’s fire. A redheaded young lady swayed her hips as she walked along the sidewalk in a torn white shirt and tiny denim shorts. Her glittery eyes scanned the horizon for her client. She had a regular who showed up around this hour. And Megumi watched as a fancy car pulled up to her and invited her into the shotgun seat.

“...Okay, so what am I looking at?” Megumi asked.

“Your new home.” Luke explained, “That is, until you find what you’re looking for.”

“Am I…” Megumi tried to think about it, but it gave him a headache, “...Augh. Am I supposed to be looking for something?”

“Everyone’s looking for something, or someone.” Luke looked out towards the shiny and clean Main Square Plaza, miles away from their dilapidated street, “But…it always seems to be just out of reach.”

“It doesn’t look that far out, can’t you just walk?” Megumi asked.

“It’s supposed to be a metaphor, boy.” Luke clicked his tongue, “Don’t you have those where you’re from?”

“Yes.” Megumi answered bluntly.

“Sweet Christmas.” Luke sighed, “If you really don’t have anywhere to go, you seem like a decent kid, so I can give you a dishwashing job until you find your place here.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you.” Megumi bowed his head again.

They went back into the bar and Megumi went to work right away, taking over cleaning the glasses while his new boss went on a lunch break. He placed the clean ones on the modest shelving and put the dirty glasses and plates into the sink. He turned the knob and the whole metal sink shook and struggled before spurting out small drops of water.

“Um, Mr. Cage? Is something wrong with the sink?” Megumi asked.

“Yeah, just give it a minute to fill up. It’s been like that for a while, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of a good plumber to fix it.” Luke explained as he sat at a dining table with his homemade sandwich.

So Megumi looked around as he waited for the water to drip. In the corner he spotted a small colorful machine. He thought it was a pachinko machine from the lights and the gears, but upon closer inspection, it was clearly a classic American slot machine. He felt an impulse swell in his heart and stomach as the machine drew him in. He felt around his pockets and found a single quarter, just what he needed to play. He put it in and pulled the crank. He had to. His mind told him that deep down, he was a gambling man. That was his role in these streets. The slot machine clicked as it spun and landed on 3 cherries, and then spit out a good chunk of change. Megumi collected his winnings in his pocket and checked the sink. Still not enough water for a good rinsing. A few more rounds would help him pass the time.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. I’m off to school.” Zeke Stane left his empty cereal bowl on the table and put on his shoes.

“Don’t forget your lunch.” Tasha handed him his tin lunchbox which she had packed with a turkey sandwich and leftover chili in a matching thermos.

“Thanks, Mom.” He grabbed it and flashed her a smile with an obviously missing tooth, a perfect specimen of youth, a bright young child of somewhere between 8-12.

“Have a good day at school, sweetheart.” Tasha told the boy, patting his back before pushing him off towards the door, “Don’t miss the bus.”

After Zeke ran off, Tasha poured more coffee for her husband and commented, “Cute kid. Is he mine?”

Obie laughed and unfolded his newspaper, “Aha, that’s a good one darling.”

“You know me, always throwing stuff off the dome.” Tasha jested as she poured her own coffee, “But if I can be real with you for a second, I honestly don’t remember having him. Is that weird? I feel like that’s weird.”

“Of course not, dear.” Obie took a sip, “He was a twilight birth after all, remember? The best drugs money can buy, so you don’t have to be burdened with the awful memory of a painful childbirth.”

“Mmm, of course. Silly me. Must be a twilight morning, too.” She retorted. She grabbed their finished breakfast plates and placed them in the sink. Obie watched her slip on her red dishwashing gloves and smiled to himself. When she scrubbed their flowery plates with soapy water, he laughed. When she rinsed them and placed them on the drying rack, he laughed at that, too.

“What did Beetle Bailey do this time, honey?” She asked without even turning around.

“It’s not the funnies, darling. It’s you. I just love watching you work.” He rested his cheek on his fist.

“...It’s just the dishes, Obie. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

“Exactly.” He put his paper down and finished his coffee. He placed his mug in the sink with the other dishes. Then, he kissed her cheek, gave her butt a good squeeze, and put a fedora on his bald head before heading to work, “Have a good one, Tasha.”

“Always do.” She said and watched him go out the door. She stared at her gloves intently for a good minute before pulling them off and throwing them in the sink.

Now that the house was empty, Tasha Stane threw off her gold satin bathrobe, lit herself a cigarette and lay spread across the couch in her red lingerie. She wanted to enjoy the silence before she started the day’s chores. The couch was a large and comfy sectional, good for having guests over. That was probably something she’d be expected to do, along with bridge games and book clubs. This whole house was large yet cozy, built for people to enjoy it. She just wished she could remember buying it. Everything was a blur to her, but maybe that was just because of her history of drinking. She remembered the drinking. And Obadiah. She remembered Obadiah Stane.

She remembered that her parents died, leaving her orphaned. She remembered him taking her into her arms, telling her that everything was going to be okay. He was her father’s business partner and a family friend, and he promised that he would take care of her.

Everything else was fading. Childhood? Gone. High school prom? Blacked out. Her wedding day? Patchy, at best. Didn’t even remember the day she got her first period.

She looked at the clock and sighed.

“Well,” She clapped her hands together, “Time for chores.”

She threw a load into the washing machine, threw some meat and vegetables into the crock pot, and threw the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher. The beauty of modern technology. So far, being a housewife was just throwing things into a machine and turning it on. She rubbed her finger along the bookshelves, not enough dust to warrant bringing out the duster. But the carpet was a different story. She looked through the record collection to find a good tune to vacuum to. She held up a single called “Rocket 88” by Jackie Preston and his Delta Cats. Something a little different. She dropped the needle on the record player. Rock and roll, now that really got her going.

She turned up the volume and pushed the vacuum along while shaking her shoulders and swinging the cord around. This was a big living room,and it took more time than she expected to get the whole carpet. When the song ended, she flipped the disc to play the B-side, “Come Back Where You Belong.” This one was more of a blues style. This one played as she moved on from the carpet to the kitchen tile, using the vacuum cleaner on that as well. Switching to the broom and dustpan would have been more effective, but she didn’t feel like doing that. Once the floor was clean, she considered her housework completed, so she rewarded herself with a glass of scotch. Okay, two glasses of scotch, with the circular ice cube for aesthetic. Two for every chore completed. That seemed fair.

When the washing machine dinged, she clapped her hands as she trotted over to take the load out. She was about to move it to the dryer, and then she noticed they didn’t have one. She threw her head up and groaned as she dropped the wet clothes into a large wicker basket.

“Who buys a washer, and not a dryer?” She complained out loud to no one. She looked outside to see the drying line in their backyard, complete with clothespins on the wire.

“Gah, so tedious.” Tasha mumbled as she carried the wicker basket outside. She took the scotch bottle with her. Washing the clothes counted as one chore; drying was another. She took two swigs and put on her red aviator shades.

“Oh Obie, you know what I would really love? A matching dryer to go with the washing machine.” Tasha practiced her lines for when her husband came home, “Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

“Now dear, you know how I feel about those gadgets. They’re making you lazy. And lazy hands are the devil’s playground.” She imitated Obie’s voice as she hung his multitude of work shirts.

“But the machines are just so much better at it. I saw that dryers even have an option now to keep the wrinkles out. You remember the last time I tried to iron the wrinkles out of your favorite shirt, don’t you?”

“Burned a hole right through it.” She moved her head to one side of the shirt and then quickly whipped it to the other side.

“Right, we wouldn’t want that to happen again, would we?”

“I’m not rewarding you with a new machine just because you’re bad at being a woman.”

She gasped, “Now that’s a low blow. I’m perfectly good at being a woman, when it counts.”

“Oh yeah? Show me how much of a woman you are tonight, and I’ll reconsider the dryer.”

“It’s a deal.” Tasha nodded at herself. It was their routine. Their idea of romantic banter. She’d made the same deal so many times already. Anal for the washing machine. Deep throating for the crockpot. And a good choking for the toaster. She was prepared to wear a leash and collar for a dryer.

“...God, I need some friends.” She said to herself.

Soon after Eren was spirited away, the scouts and their commander took to their horses and raced into the carnival, with Captain Levi taking the lead.

“Don’t let anything distract you! Especially the colorful machines!” He warned. Their charge was forced into a slow march as they entered the crowded muddy streets in the brightly lit night. Patrons waved at them as though they were a part of the carnival themselves.

“So you said you didn’t find the barmaid’s employer last time?” Erwin asked him.

“I wasn’t in the mood to get lied to. But now it looks like we don’t have a choice. Four of our scouts are gone and we can’t know where they are unless we figure out where we are.” Levi explained.

“Hey, who's in charge around here?” Hange asked around, but of course, no one had a straight answer.

“They’re probably in hiding, since they’re into some shady stuff. How do we get the boss to come out?” Sasha asked.

“I don’t know, maybe we should break something? Cause enough ruckus so that they have to come out and see what’s going on?” Connie suggested.

“That’ll probably just get us arrested.” Jean said, but then thought about it more, “...which means they’d have to bring in the authorities to deal with us.”

“Raaah!” Connie impulsively drew his blade and sliced at the tarp canopies of the stalls while charging forward on his horse.

“Enough! There’s no need to resort to savagery.” Erwin cut him off immediately.

“Ah, that sign says ‘Employees Only’ over there.” Hange pointed to the door of a small cottage. Shortly after they spotted it, an unassuming little man in a dress shirt and tie walked out with a clipboard.

“Excuse me sir, we have business with your employer. May we speak-” Erwin tried to ask the man politely, but the employee squawked in fright, dropped his clipboard, and ran off.

“Oh no you don’t.” Levi leaped off his horse to go after him, “Can’t lose track of this one.”

The little man ran through the streets, sliding between people and stalls. Levi used to run through muddy crowded roads like this growing up in the Underground. He followed his every turn and evasive leap, coming hot on his tail. And then the little man pulled an extra bizarre move. He lifted the sidewalk off of the ground itself, opening some sort of warp gate. He dashed in for his escape, but Levi followed right behind him, and was swallowed up by the portal as well.

“Captain!” Jean exclaimed.

“Now what do we do?” Armin asked, “That’s five people missing now! At this rate, we’ll all disappear.”

“...Maybe that’s our next move.” Mikasa said.

Then, another employee, this one in a purple shirt with a gold name badge, came up to the sidewalk where the two had disappeared and shook his head, “Oops, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He pulled out his portable radio, “Yeah, we got a code green by Fantasy Hollow. I repeat, a code green by Fantasy Hollow.”

“Fantasy Hollow? That’s the name of this town?” Hange asked.

“You could say that. Can’t really find it on a map though, so don’t worry about it.” The man said, “The guy who went in there, he was with you?”

Erwin nodded for his group. Then, the man got a muffled message on his radio and gestured to the Scouts,

“This is your lucky day. The boss is calling you into her office.”

The Scout Regiment, or what was left of it, dismounted and were escorted into the little cottage, which must have been connected to some other building because the expansive dark void they walked into couldn’t possibly fit into something that small. They stood their ground and went into formation, awaiting some surprise danger from the shadows.

A spotlight turned on, revealing the Ringmaster sitting on a velvet chair on an open balcony, leaning on her palm.

“I knew ya’ll were gonna be trouble.” She said, swirling her cane around her fingers, “I finally let you into my carnival, and you’re already messing up my perfectly concocted system!”

“Can we just skip to the part where you tell us where your friends are?!” Connie shouted. Jean and Sasha tried to shush him, but it was already out of the bag.

“I can do that for you, yes. You see, Eren was the May Queen, the Grand Prize. That means he gets to leave the carnival and move into Pleasant Hill with Z-with the Beast Titan. Because he has what it takes to survive there.” She explained.

“He’s taking on the Beast Titan by himself?” Mikasa asked.

“What about Reiner? And Bertholdt? And Annie? Where did they go?” Armin asked.

“Well, you see, they didn’t win the auction to join Eren, but I couldn’t exactly have them coming back to the carnival and spoiling the surprise for everyone else, so I had to find roles for them in the town. Something in the background so they don’t interfere too much, but close enough to where they get to see the winner enjoy the prize they lost . But then Levi, your relentless Captain Levi snuck in through one of my secret gates. Now that’s a problem because Levi isn’t my idea of a grand prize winner. He’s too much of a sour puss. And he doesn’t belong in Skid Row, either. Yes, he wants to find Eren, but he doesn’t love him. Not with his whole being. Finding him is more of a side quest for him, and not the reason he lives and breathes. No, that sounds like someone else.” She further explained.

Armin and Mikasa looked at each other.

“And you see, that’s just not fun for me.” She clutched her cane in her fists, “I need yearning. I need desperation!”

“Ma’am, if I may. I know Captain Levi, and he’s more emotionally driven than he looks. He’ll find Eren whatever it takes because he knows how important he is to our cause, and he’ll make a show if he has to.” Erwin said.

“Hmm, I should disregard that. I should spit Levi out of my beautiful town and back into the carnival, but he’s probably already seen too much.” She said, “Oh, but I guess I can change things up a bit. You see, Pleasant Hill is getting bigger by the day. It needs more infrastructure. It needs more…NPCs.”

“So you’ll take us to them?” Sasha asked.

“Yes, and no. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’ll be allowed into the town, but you won’t have any of your memories. Some of you may even find Eren right away, but if you don’t even remember who that is, then what’s the point? You won’t remember who any of you are; you will be starting life anew. Captain Levi is already doing so.” She said, setting her cane down firmly with a loud thump.

“No. I would remember.” Mikasa insisted, “There’s no way I couldn’t remember him. Forgetting him would be forgetting myself.”

“...That’s the yearning and desperation I’m talking about. And that’s exactly why you’re going to Skid Row, my dear.” The Ringmaster smiled, “It’s one of my newer developments. You will have nothing. No home, no status, not even a pot to piss in. Nothing but your longing, but for someone like you? That’s all you really need. You and Armin.”

“I don’t get it!” Connie shouted.

“You don’t need to understand it.” The Ringmaster said, “Good luck, because it’s time to go to work.”

She yanked on her cane like a lever, which opened up more portals under the Survey Corps like trap doors. They fell into the void, some screaming on the way down.