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DISCLAIMER: This is a Marvel WG AU story.
Pepper Potts, Betty Ross, Jane Foster, Peggy Carter, Hope Van Dyne and all related properties and characters are copyright Marvel/Disney. No disrespect is meant, nor profit intended. Supermodel Ana is my own original character.
Also, this is a weight gain, fat positive story. Also pig transformations occur.
If this isn't your thing, don't read it. If you read it anyway and are disturbed, don't complain to me. I warned you.

    Hannah Sullivan sat down to her dinner. She grumbled a bit; her idiot boyfriend and she had just broken up, because of her weight and her admiration of the new super sized team of superheroines who'd saved Philadelphia from those crazy feeder robots.
    They’d been on vacation in the city when it happened, and of course, she'd been blown up, along with most of the women in the city. She'd been sure that she was dead, popped from overstuffing, until the hugely fat green Bulk crashed through, demolishing the robot, followed by Britannia, who injected her with a drug that stopped her inflation and, eventually shrank her back down to normal. Well, normal for her, anyway; she'd struggled with her weight her whole life. She had managed to find a boyfriend, but he always tried to get her to slim down.
    But, seeing the women, large and proud of it, and not only capable but very accomplished, Hannah finally began to feel good, even proud of herself. She stopped trying to “slim down” and worrying about her weight at all, and put her efforts to standing up for herself, ending up with a promotion at work, and more responsibilities and respect. Of course, stopping her incessant diets sent her weight up and up, but with those new role models, she didn't care the least, and many others stopped caring too.
    None of that sat well with her boyfriend, and after months of the relationship worsening, they had one last screaming fight, and he took off when, this time, she wouldn't back down.
    She grumbled a bit more. Well, she didn't need him anyway. There were always a few men who she caught eyeing her up; maybe she could hook up with one if them, see where it went.
    Not really paying attention to her meal, Hannah was stunned when she realized her plate was empty. Not only that, but the extra portions she'd made out of reflex and had planned to save for leftovers.
    She sat at the table patting her full belly, amazed at the amount she'd eaten without realizing. She suddenly realized she was still hungry. No, she wasn't hungry, she was starving. Nearly doubled over with hunger pangs, she ran to the fridge and grabbed whatever she could, stuffing herself further. More and more of the food in her apartment went down her throat; she emptied the fridge, then the pantry. Sitting on the floor at the open door, looking around at the huge pile of empty wrappers, Hannah remembered her various stores of snacks around the apartment.
    She didn't bother to get up, just crawled through the entire apartment, grabbing one after another and downing them all. Somewhere in the middle of the impossible binge, her clothes, overtaxed by her relentless stuffing, tightened and tightened, finally ripping to shreds and falling off of her when she stretched up to grab still more food.
    She only paused a second or two when she saw her arm, hugely bloated and turning pink. Panting with effort, she waddled, still on all fours, to the next stash. Once there, all of a sudden she thought it was easier to just root into the bowls and containers than to bother with her hands, so she did just that. Whenever she got to a bowl of candy, she just stuck her muzzle into it, gobbling down the sweets, and not even realizing that she had a muzzle. She felt an itch on one ear, and absently reached up, to the top of her head, to scratch it. It stood up straight and a little pointed from her scalp. Still starving, she didn’t register the new location of her ears, or the fact that her hair was nearly totally gone.
    As she kept going, her panting grew louder and shrill, gradually turning to squeals. Suddenly, she felt her fingers fuse into the two halves of a hoof, and her legs shortened, even as her face lengthened further. Now terrified, she whirled, falling onto her side. She strained to look over her massive new form, and saw a little curly tail growing from her butt. Somehow not surprised, she writhed her way back to her feet (all four of them), and trotted to her full-length bedroom mirror. Her face was barely recognizable, sitting on top of the wide, bloated body of a hog! Her back legs gave out, and her hindquarters dropped heavily onto the floor.
    Only for a moment, before her panic pushed her back up, and she ran for the phone, trying to call for help. “Gotta call someone,” she muttered to herself. “Gotta get hel--squeal.”
    Soon, only grunts, squeals, and oinks came out her mouth. She looked blearily around the strange room, no wallow, no trough to eat from, searching for something to stuff her piggy self with. She sniffed around, and located some in a weird, upright canister with a lid on it. She nosed it over and dove in.
    The pig she'd finally become had no care that she was eating garbage, only that she was eating.

    The next night, Pepper Potts, the Iron Matron, was relaxing after a long workday at Stark Industries, and patrolling alongside Tony after. They'd seen nothing out of the ordinary (they hadn't really expected it anyway; patrolling was more of an excuse to play around with each other), and had headed home to Stark Tower (now Avengers Tower). Checking with Friday, she quickly found that everyone else was busy; Peggy and Steve sparring in the gym, working on her skills (or working off the “hot and bothered”, depending on how long they'd been at it, Pepper thought with a grin); Hope likely at her father’s mansion (just as likely stuffing herself; she did love her steady gaining); Thor and Jane certainly in the tower’s feeding room, playing their incessant games (unless they thought they had a firm lead into Loki and Darcy’s next move); and Betty and Bruce likely in their armor-plated training room, working on building their control over their alter egos (or indulging themselves; there was a feeding set-up in there too). She'd just decided to settle down with Tony for her own belly-stuffing foreplay when both Friday and Tony’s JARVIS called them.
    Separating so that their conversations didn't overlap each other, Pepper acknowledged Friday and heard her report. “Something weird, Boss,” her AI assistant said. “I'm getting reports about women disappearing and pigs being left in their place.”
    “Kidnapping?” wondered Pepper.
    That’s what the reports are saying. Why? Do you think different?”
    “I don't know. Can you call the rest of the team? I have a feeling we'll need to look at this.”
    “Will do, Boss. You want the Avengers in, too?”
    “I don't think so; it seems more our line. And, if it's something from Asgard, it may be a distraction. But if I do, I'll have Tony get them.”
    “You got it, Boss. They'll be in your HQ room in a few minutes.”
    Pepper turned to Tony. He said, “yours was about the abductions?”
    She nodded, asking “yeah, JARVIS too?”
    “Yep. You want help?” Tony teased.
    Pepper narrowed her eyes, and they nearly vanished in her huge fat face, lost in the pudgy folds of her cheeks. Then she realized he was teasing, and teased him right back. “You think we can't handle it?”
    He actually got defensive. “I know you can. I even told JARVIS--” He stopped as he saw her expression.
    Still grinning tightly, Pepper got serious. “Anyway, if it's a move from Loki and Darcy, you should be ready and on alert for it. We'll be fine.”
    Tony nodded, adding “I suppose it's occurred to you that they might not be abductions, that those pigs are the women themselves.”
    Pepper actually snorted. “Of course it has. What do you take me for? A rookie?”
    “Well, whatever, it's right up your alley.”
    Pepper faced him and spread her arms out, making her 600+ pound body seem even wider. “You mean right up our four-lane highway.”
    Grinning in return, Tony openly ogled his super-sized girlfriend. “You say so.”
    With a quick kiss, the two parted, Pepper to the BBW Defenders’ floor of the tower, and Tony to his favorite R&D lab to work on a new project and wait to see if this was a cover for something else.

    Pepper arrived, waddling, just as the rest of the team assembled. Peggy, still in her skin-tight workout clothes, straining against her 500 pounds or so; Jane, bulging hugely and wiping her mouth from her feeding games with Thor, walking easily with her magic belt to increase her strength to Asgardian level; Betty already sitting heavily in street clothes, a reinforced chair straining under her 800+ pounds.
    Sitting in her own chair around the table, Pepper asked “Should we wait for Hope?”
    Hope’s voice came over the radio. “Don't bother; I'm on the way. Leave the channel open and I'll listen in until I land.”
    “Okay. Are you all up to speed on what’s happened?” Pepper started.
    “Yes. I think it’s more likely that those pigs that were found are the actual missing women, instead of some sick prank, replacing them,” Betty said.
    “I agree,” said Peggy. “Do you know of any magic that can do this?” she asked Jane.
    “According to Thor, and my own experience, Asgard doesn’t often go in for transformations like this. But, basically, it’s not extremely difficult for a reasonably skilled sorcerer,” Jane answered.
    “So, barring any new information, let’s work from the position that these pigs are transformed victims,” concluded Peggy. “Now, we just need to figure out who’s doing it.”
    Pepper added, “and a way to turn them back.”
    Jane shrugged, sending ripples through her flabby folds. “If somebody can turn people into pigs, they can likely turn them back.” Then she grinned fiercely. “We just need to make them.”
    Betty concluded, “so we’re back to finding the sorcerer.”
    “Let’s see if there’s a victim profile,” added Hope, just as she flew in the room’s open window. “That may help us figure out who’s doing this, and maybe who might be next.”
    Betty said, “I can run the names of the missing women, and check their vitals, their histories, and so on.”
    Peggy nodded and turned to Pepper. “Can you dig on the web, find out if more information is available?”
    Pepper nodded. “Sure thing,” she said, turning to a convenient computer terminal.
    Jane turned for the door. “I’ll check around Asgard, see if I can find any better lines on magic that can do this.”
    Betty, already working away on a computer, said distractedly, “can we get some food up here? This might take a while.”
    Grinning eagerly, Pepper had Friday arrange for the kitchen staff to send up snacks. Lots of snacks.

    After barely an hour of web-searching, they had a list of victims, who’d all been found “replaced” by pigs. Myrtle Bushey, Joy Scharff, Joanna Frazer, Kristen Dermody, Arlene Haan, Janice Gully, Annette Whisenant, Kristi Nehring, Irma Edgar, Marian Sara, and Hannah Sullivan. Pepper had pulled all the information available on the internet up, and with a gesture, flung it into the holographic display above the table. A map of Manhattan was centered, with the women’s apartments lit up, and each woman’s photo and pertinent information listed, along with numbers indicating their order of discovery.
    Hope, arrived just after they started the research, said the obvious. “Well, they’re all overweight. Nothing close to us, though.”
    Peggy added, “three of them were in Philly when Edesia attacked.”
    Pepper noted, “that’s less than 30%; I don’t really think it’s a factor.”
    They all nodded, then Betty said, “Order of discovery isn’t order of attack; if we ignore the numbers, their homes make a rough circle through Greenwich Village, Gramercy Park and Midtown.”
    All five women scrutinized the display. Hope grumbled, “I suppose it’s too much to ask that the perp lived in the middle of the circle?”
    Pepper shrugged, saying, “that depends on if they’re smart or not.”
    Peggy added, “I vote for ‘not.’ Turning women into pigs in their own homes, and multiple in one night, speaks to not thinking ahead, or at least being really emotional about it.”
    Jane agreed. “Yes, she’s likely to be impulsive. Someone like that wouldn’t travel great distances from their base; she’d start quick, and right nearby.”
    Betty focused on one word. “Why’d you say ‘she,’ Jane? Do you believe it’s a woman?”
    Jane stopped dead. “Hmm. I hadn’t thought of it. I think I assumed it would be, since all the victims are, and we are too. I just supposed most of our work would be with women too.”
    “Well, on just that much,” Peggy thought, “I don’t think we can assume it really is a woman. It could be anyone. Anything from Asgard, Jane?”
    Jane shook her head. “No. Lady Frigga hasn't any idea of how to do something like this. I'm clearly not going to ask Loki or Darcy, even if I could find where they ran off after her unmasking. I did talk to Lorelei, but she has no idea either.”
    Peggy replied, “I have to ask. Can we trust her?”
    Jane shrugged. “She's paired with Lady Sif; and she seems to be behaving. The two of them play feeding games too; they're both larger than I am. I'd say yes, if she knew, she'd tell us.”
    Pepper said, “so, whether it’s a woman or not, it's not Asgardian. So we’ll need something that can detect magic to find the--” and she grinned at Hope, ending, “perp.”
    Peggy suddenly added, “or someone! Friday, could you locate Wanda for us please?”
    Friday answered, “sure thing, Ms. Carter. Do you want her in HQ?”
    Pepper answered. “Not just yet, Friday. Just contact her for us, please.”
    A few moments later, Wanda’s voice came over the intercom. “Yes, Pepper? Do you need something?”
    Pepper answered, “actually, just a little question. Um, can you sense magic?”
    Wanda went silent. The five women in the room thought she might be upset or have gone off-line, but then she answered, “I don’t think so. I’ve never really tried.” They could hear the amusement in her voice as she added, “just because some people call me a witch, doesn’t mean I really do magic.”
    Peggy went on, “Yes, Wanda. We know that. Sorry, just we’re dealing with a strange set of happenings here, and we wondered if you could help us out a bit.”
    Just then, Wanda walked in the room, her massively bloated body brushing the sides of the door. She’d never lost the rest of the weight Edesia had put on her, once she got back to mobility before the end-game. “Yes, I thought you might. So, why didn’t you call me in at first?”
    Peggy put her hands out, placatingly. “I know you said we could count on you after our help, but we didn't want to presume.”
    Wanda snorted and crossed her arms over her wide, heavy bosom. “Am I on the team or not?” she stated flatly.
    All five of the others looked at each other, and Pepper said, “if you want in, of course you are. And we're proud to have you. But--”
    “But nothing,” Wanda interrupted. “I told you I wanted in. And the thinking I've done over the last month hasn't changed anything.”
    Peggy said, firmly, “then you're in. And, again, we're sorry for not bringing you on immediately.”
    Quickly, Wanda was brought up to speed, and she spent a moment concentrating on Jane, or more accurately, Jane’s Asgardian magic equipment. “No, I can’t sense magic,” she said finally, “but I should be able to sense the thoughts behind it. If I’m close.”
    Hope said, “so we patrol the Village and hope we find him?” She turned to Jane. “You may assume it’s a woman because everybody else involved is, but I’m going to assume male, since most violence on women is by men.”
    Pepper added, “and statistically, men are more likely to do active attacks than women, anyway.”
    Peggy waved that away. “Whatever,” she said. “Can we at least agree that, male or female, it’s likely to happen again tonight?”
    Hope and Pepper nodded immediately. Betty wavered, and Wanda just waited. Jane said, “I don’t know if it will, but I do know, if it does and we weren’t out at least trying, we’ll not forgive ourselves.”
    Peggy agreed. “Exactly. So let’s go. I’ll go with Iron Matron. Wanda, you go with Bumblebee. Betty and Valkyrie will be the last. We’ll have one ground and one air with each. Wanda, if you would, keep your senses as open as you can. Everybody else, keep your eyes open and/or scanners working. Call out whenever you see anything, and we’ll all converge.”
    The ground-bound members got four-wheeled ATVs and followed their flying partners. Britannia and Iron Matron went to the northern third of the rough circle, Betty and Valkyrie went to Greenwich Village, and Scarlet Witch and Bumblebee went to the West Village.

    They had set out just after sunset. By nearly midnight, none of them had noticed anything unusual. More out of boredom than anything else, Bumblebee had broken up a couple of attempted muggings, Iron Matron had stopped a breaking and entering, and Britannia had assisted a police car chase, but for their own purpose, nothing.
    Suddenly, Scarlet Witch called out over their comm net. “Somebody nearby is seething with rage. It’s focussed on weight, and women being fat and being okay with it. The rage is so strong, it’s drowning out any identifiers, but, yes, Jane and Hope, it’s a woman.”
    Britannia replied, “Everybody, form up on Scarlet Witch. Follow her tracer signal. I’m ten minutes out. How far out are you all?”
    Iron Matron called first. “I’ll be there in about 45 seconds.”
    Bumblebee said, “show-off. I’m with her already.”
    Valkyrie: “I estimate five minutes for me.”
    Betty: “Unless I change, it’ll take me 15 minutes.”
    Britannia closed it up. “Betty, don’t change yet. Scarlet Witch and Bumblebee, see if you can localize the woman. If you can, track her and wait for us. If you see her attack someone, it’s your call. Stop it if you can, but try not to risk yourselves yet; not without backup.”
    Affirmatives came from the whole team as they headed for rendezvous. Bumblebee and Scarlet Witch kept them updated. Between the two of them, they were able to locate and track a thin woman, clad only in a skimpy bikini, gloves past her elbows, and knee-high boots. Her eyes were covered with a mask, and an open-faced balaclava ski hat covered her hair, except for a long braid coming from the back. They couldn’t tell colors, as they kept a distant tail on the woman as she wound her way through the streets, not in the dark; all they could be sure of was she was caucasian, and had dark hair. One important result was when Scarlet Witch informed the team, “she’s still raging, but there’s some, smugness, too? I think she’s made a hit already, and is off to her second.”
    Everyone immediately protested. “Enough!” Britannia cut through the outraged chatter. “If she did, the new vic will be found soon enough. Our best hope now is to stop her and maybe force her to reverse all her transformations. Including this one.”
    Still upset, the team nevertheless agreed, and managed to speed up just a little bit extra.

    The whole team arrived, one by one, and quickly saw their target, now staring at a particular apartment window. Even through the darkness and her mask, the team could tell she was glaring in suppressed rage. As she began to climb the fire-escape towards the window, Iron Matron, through her audio pickups, could hear the woman muttering to herself: “disgusting, obese pig. Let’s see if you like really being a fat pig, you fat-ass cow.” She let her teammates know what was said. None of them were happy about it.
    Scarlet Witch gave one last update: “I can sense her gathering her concentration. She’s about to cast, I think.”
    Iron Matron took to the air, along with Bumblebee. Just as the woman seemed ready to fire her spell, Iron Matron lit up her floodlights, blinding the woman, and alerting the intended victim. With one glance out the window, she fled from the room.
    The women herself, now visible in dark purple bikini, dark ski cap and mask, black leather boots, and pinkish-mauve shiny latex gloves, spun. “Argh!” she cried in frustration. “What are you doing?”
    Then she saw who it was who faced her. She quickly began to laugh wildly. “Oh, this is so much better than just fixing your victims. I’ll get you for starting this whole thing.”
    As Iron Matron pointed her palms and called the Extremis flares, Britannia called from the street below, “that’s enough! You clearly know exactly who we are; you know we will stop you and bring you in. Turn all the women back, and we’ll get you some help, instead of spending the rest of your natural life in SHIELD’s Vault for powered criminals.”
    “HA!” the woman laughed smugly. “How will you get me me when you’re too busy rooting around in garbage stuffing yourselves like the pigs you are?”
    Before the team could do anything more than twitch, a dim glow faded in around the woman’s hands, and she threw her arms forward in a sweeping gesture.
    The power flared out in a wide arc. The team scattered, Iron Matron up, Bumblebee down, Betty Britannia and Scarlet Witch to the sides, and Valkyrie backwards behind a Dumpster.
    As it happened, Bumblebee and Valkyrie ended up right in the path of the power flare, and while the others all felt a little dizzy and some excess hunger for a moment or two, Bumblebee collapsed and Valkyrie, knowing magic was heading for her, grabbed Dragonfang to disrupt the spell flying at her. As she swung desperately, the magic hit her anyway and she too collapsed, Dragonfang ringing on the pavement.
    In the confusion, while the team members who escaped the magic tended to their friends, the woman made her escape, grinning fiercely at her undreamed of success in hitting the gross, bloated sows that had started this whole disgusting fat-is-permissible hideousness.
    Valkyrie and Bumblebee staggered to their feet as the others approached them. “Are you two all right?” asked Britannia as they got near.
    “Yes,” Valkyrie answered. “I believe I disrupted the magic with my Dragonfang before it hit me,” she finished, holding her sword up.
    Bumblebee shook her head to clear it. “I think so,” she said. “I’m a bit shaken, but that’s probably the fall. I think the magic got disrupted on me, too. Thanks, Valkyrie.”
    Valkyrie nodded back. And they all relaxed a bit then. Britannia ordered, “then let’s head home, and see if we can add anything to our data on that woman.”
    But, both Bumblebee and Valkyrie hid a growing hunger, even beyond what they’d become used to over their last months. Separately, both of them worried about what that must mean; glancing at each other, and missing the other’s glance at them, they wondered, and worried…
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