i'm currently in the process of redrawing this piece, would it be okay if i posted it sometime??? ik this wasn't necessarily for me but like. i'm super appreciative anyways because these idiots have taken over my life it's crazy... and i just wanna show you a cute lil reinterpretation of your work because this is so, SO cool.
finished it like two days ago actually but here it is!! decided to do my rivals designs and not my comic ones just because i wanted to do clint’s long hair lmao
Waiting for the Stars: A Quillock Rapunzel AU Fanfiction: Chapter 1
Summary:
Peter and his Guardians protect the small town of Knowhere at all costs. When the Universal Church of Truth threatens the peace and Peter's concealed past, Peter chooses to follow their request: to bring a powerful being back to the Church.
Meanwhile, Adam believes his duty is to stay hidden from the world, never allowing his powers to be used by anyone. Adam's solitary life is disrupted when he finds a man hiding in his pantry. Of course, as any reasonable person would, Adam hits the man with his pan.
Notes:
This is a collaboration with my amazing friend, Jwiqt, and myself. Jwiqt provides the art while I provide the words. I have a lot to say, but I'll save that for after chapter notes. For now, I'll say that Jwiqt is a cracked artist, and I'm so grateful to be working with them on this AU! I want to share an animatic they made, which is essentially a Chapter 1 trailer. Please enjoy!
The AO3 link. You can also check this out if you want to see what tags are associated with this fic.
Now on to the fic!
Chapter 1
His birth home was not a topic Peter allowed himself to think about too often. Encircling cool air tucked strands of dark, blond hair behind his ears, and clear skies revealed shining stars flickering like candlelight. Unfortunately, these types of nights made it hard not to think about days long gone. Peter’s mood only worsened as he spotted a woman in red waiting below, contrasting harshly with the lonely, dark streets of Knowhere. He turned around to check on Mantis; she was currently standing in the middle of his bedroom, fingers nervously tapping on her palm. In an effort to reassure her, Peter gave a thumbs-up and brought a closed-eye smile to his face. Mantis’ fidgeting did not stop.
While the circumstances weren’t ideal, Peter trusted Mantis to lead the rescue if anything went wrong. Breathing in the slightly musty air of the town, Peter leapt off his bedroom balcony and onto the streets below, wanting to avoid the possibility of running into other members of his team/family. He kept a hand on the hilt of his sword as he approached the women. In an unspoken agreement, they began walking to the outskirts of Knowhere with Peter leading the way, careful to avoid populated areas. They passed by familiar alleyways where Peter won fights (and suffered losses that no one had to know about) and passed familiar bars with memories of passed-out Guardians and wild conversations. Good times.
Once they entered the wooded area around Knowhere, the women turned toward Peter and broke the tense silence with a steady voice. “We are elated that you have accepted our invitation tonight, Peter Jason Quill.” The crimson woman bowed slightly, her brown hair enclosing her face like a lion’s mane. Dangerous. “It is a true honor to meet you, Your Highness.”
Peter internally winced at the use of his title and full name — a name that he had not spoken aloud in over a decade. The hand on the hilt gripped tighter. “There’s no need for the fanfare, ma’am. Call me Star-lord in public and Peter in private.”
The woman glanced briefly at Peter’s sword. “Of course, of course,” she replied, sickly sweet, “You may call me Matriarch.” She smiled and held her hands in front of her, as if she were a teacher chiding an unruly child.
That certainly irritated Peter a little. He did not need reminders of his school days. “Well, Matriarch, I say let’s get right to the point. What do you want?”
Matriarch brought a hand up to her mouth, looking almost askance. “How blunt, Peter. We simply seek retribution for a wrong done by your team. Surely you understand the value of secrets best left unearthed. At the moment, we both have information we would rather the other not have; therefore, I propose a mutually beneficial agreement.”
Oh goodie, Peter thought as he crunched random fallen leaves in his path. Matriarch continued, “We want you to retrieve something for us. In return, Spartax will remain unaware of the location of their missing prince.”
Peter frowned and fiddled with his belt. He knew that this would be their blackmail, yet he was unable to suppress the shivers that crawled up his back. How did they even find out who he was, and so quickly, too? It was only a few days ago that Gamora and he stumbled upon the Church’s city. The only conclusion he could come up with was that they already knew his business. Bastards. They were probably just waiting for their chance to use this information. Luckily, Peter’s dirty laundry wasn’t the only one exposed tonight.
“As for the Guardians, we want the Church’s manpower. There’s a lot of strife going on between Xandar and Deneb, and Knowhere is getting hit hard. Help protect the areas around here and no one has to know where your Church is really hiding. Most importantly, though, stay out of Knowhere itself. The Guardians can handle the town alone.” This was usually true, but, for the most part, Peter just wanted the Church loonies to stay out of his turf.
“We are not hiding,” Matriarch plainly replied, still smiling.
Peter wanted to roll his eyes.
She cleared her throat. “The Church values all life, even those of the non-believers. We would be delighted to help protect these lands.” She held her hands in front of her again — this time as if in prayer — and stared at Peter with wide, unsettling eyes. “What say you to my offer?”
Peter noted that she didn’t promise to stay out of Knowhere. “That depends, what’d ya need me to get?”
Matriarch walked silently for a minute, red dress flowing behind her, hands still held in prayer. Peter wasn’t sure if he should patiently wait for her to finish talking to who knows what, or if he should interrupt. He chose to wait. After a minute, Matriarch began speaking again, “Do you know the legend of the infinity gems?”
Peter thought back to his childhood, of a room filled with storybooks, candles, and warmth. His mother might have told him at one point. He played with his necklace — the sharp, top point poking into his thumb.
“They’re real,” Matriarch said, a little breathless. “They are gems of extreme power, destined to bring enlightenment to this world.” She looked up to the sky, as if the enlightenment she sought could be found in the stars. “We found one a few years ago.”
She stopped walking and so did Peter. She leaned closer. He wanted to pull away.
Matriarch whispered, “We made a mistake. Now the gem is with an individual who refuses to work with us.”
“Damn, I wonder why,” Peter said while doing nothing to hide even an iota of his sarcasm. The floral fragrance of Matriarch’s perfume wafted to his nose and disquieted him further. It reminded him of the older, noble ladies who would fuss over him as a child. Condescending and fake. He guessed those were the qualities you needed to smell like that.
She ignored him. “Bring this man back to us. That is what we want.”
Tapping his boot on the ground, Peter gave the women a slight glare. “Maybe you realize this but I’m a little sympathetic to runaways. Can’t I just retrieve the gem itself and call it a day? That’s really what you want, right?”
“You lack understanding, Peter Quill,” Matriarch said with a sigh, “The gem is attached to the individual. If they are brought to us, we can remove it without causing harm.”
Peter had so many questions about this. “Can’t a regular, not-weird-Church doctor remove it?”
Matriarch frowned, the artificial smile finally gone.
Peter kept tapping his boot. He really wished he had a comforting cup of coffee with him. So what if it was close to 1 AM? Sue him. “Is this guy keeping the gem really so bad?”
Matriarch brought a hand up and rubbed her temple, a small sign of exasperation. It brought Peter some satisfaction to see that she was also struggling with this conversation. “Your ignorance astounds,” Matriarch said.
Rude, Peter thought.
“Peter Quill, if a gem with god-like power is in the hands of a man with no desire to wield or direction to follow, what do you think happens?” Matriarch asked with dripping condescension.
“They don’t use the power at all.”
“Or they misuse the power, putting the entire world in danger.
Peter huffed a laugh while crossing his arms. “That’s extreme, lady. Are you seriously telling me there’s a magic stone out there that can destroy the world?”
“Or bring enlightenment. Only if the Church has it back.”
Peter seriously doubted that.
It seemed Matriarch could see the doubt on Peter’s face, because she sighed and turned away from Peter with a conclusive wave. “Sleep on it, Peter Quill. Know that the fate of the world stands over you.” She looked at Peter again with a final, sweetly fake smile. “You don’t truly have much choice anyway.”
★ ★ ★
They really didn’t mean to find the Church’s furtive situation. Peter and Gamora were away on a completely unrelated mission: helping merchants travel from Asterion Port to the capital of Deneb, and fighting any bandits who dared get too close. Once they were done and on the way back to Knowhere, Peter pointed out an alternative route that he thought might be a shortcut.
“We really should have known better than to follow Peter’s ideas,” Gamora later lamented.
What awaited them was a dilapidated city on the edge of Deneb. Destroyed homes with shattered windows; burned, limestone walls; rotten, wooden support beams; toppled over stone slates; and caved in roofs greeted the pair as they traveled farther into town. Peter remembered looking at an abandoned, ornate teacup on the table of a storefront. It still had liquid, neither moldy, nor evaporated, as if momentarily forgotten during the day. That probably should have been their first sign of something being amiss.
Together, Peter and Gamora explored the city in search of any forgotten treasures, taking advantage of this unexpected find. A stone church stood proud and mostly intact in the center of town. Inside, Light shone through the stained-glass windows, painting the broken floor tiles and dirty pews with a kaleidoscope of shining colors. The windows especially fascinated Peter. Organized religion wasn’t this thing, but he had to admit the architecture went hard. To the left, the stained glass depicted 6 colorful gems scattered throughout the world. To the right, the stained glass depicted a young man with a green gem on his forehead. Peter found himself gravitating to this side of the church while Gamora investigated the basement.
In one glass window, a young, blond man was nailed to a cross and many people stood around him with hands together in prayer. The green gem on his forehead shined brightly. In the next window, the man — now older — stood before his followers as they bowed before him. Hues of blues, greens, yellows, and white surrounded the man. The final window had the man cradling a globe with a rainbow halo around his head. The globe itself glowed violet and red. This series of stained glass seemed more vibrant than the other on the opposite side, as if it were newer.
The vibrant colors reminded Peter of his first sunset while out at sea. The bright reds, oranges, and pinks had captured Peter so much that he hadn’t realized he was crying until a stranger asked him if he was okay. It was just a sunset, yet as his ship sailed toward a destination he had never heard of, he thought of it as the most beautiful view of his life.
Before Peter could examine the rest of the church nave, Gamora came out of the basement, exclaiming that she had found something. Carefully, she led Peter to a small, hidden room in the basement. The inside looked like a small storage room with some empty shelves, but hidden underneath a tile was a trap door leading somewhere below them. Gamora immediately began descending. Peter sputtered nervously above her as he called her insane, but he ultimately followed behind.
Eventually, they reached another storage room containing bookcases and a single door out. From the other side, they could hear faint sounds of congregations: children playing, parents shushing them, adults gossiping, and merchants yelling about their wares. It unnerved both of them to hear such familiar sounds far below the dirt. Peter, with as much bravery as he could muster, slowly opened the door. When he saw what was on the other side, his jaw dropped.
It was an entire, golden village. What had to have been thousands of lanterns filled the streets, buildings, and people in a golden glow. There were even lights hanging from the cavern ceiling (how did they do that?!). The residents of this city went about their day, as if they all weren’t who-knows-how deep below the surface. All around them, in banners, windows, ceilings, and floors, were depictions of those gems Peter saw earlier. Peter and Gamora stood in a temple-like building with large, glassless windows overlooking the area.
“Holy shit,” Gamora said.
They stopped and stared for a minute before they heard a loud “Hey!”. Turning toward the voice, Peter saw a figure wearing a religious cloak running toward them.
“Time to skedaddle,” Peter said before ushering Gamora up the ladder ahead of him. He threw a bookcase down in the room they were in, blocking the door.
As fast as they could, they climbed up the ladder, ran outside the ruined city, mounted their horses, and raced off. Only when he felt the whipping of the wind around him did Peter allow himself a relieved exhale.
“Do you think they got a good look at us?" Gamora asked after a few minutes of riding.
Peter dismissed her concern. “Nah, we were like riptides running out of there. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
They were not fine.
A few days later, early in the morning, Mantis brought a letter to him addressed to Star-lord. It read: Peter Jason Quill, Your knack for getting into places you don’t belong is inspiring. Meet us outside tonight as the clock strikes 12. We have much to discuss. With grace, peace, love, and mercy, the Universal Church of Truth.
Peter burned the letter as soon as he was done reading it.
★ ★ ★
“Peter, you’ve come back unharmed!” Mantis said as soon as Peter climbed onto the balcony of his room. Two cowlicks at the top of her head that Peter liked to call her “antenna” bobbed happily.
He let out a confident huff. “Of course I did. Those evangelical weirdos don’t scare me.”
Mantis let her face fall. A more serious tone taking over. “Peter, what did they want? How did they know about… You.”
Peter hunched over and sighed. “I think this situation is something the whole team should know at this point, aside from my identity, of course. I’ll tell you the details along with them tomorrow morning. When I do, please act like it’s the first time you’re hearing about any of this.” He looked at Mantis with pleading eyes.
Mantis hung her head slightly but quickly recovered and brought her eyes back up to meet Peter’s. “Of course!”
“You’re the best, Mantis.” Peter held out his arms — a silent question. Mantis gladly answered by walking into him, accepting the hug. “I’m sorry for keeping you up so late worrying about me.” Peter whispered in Mantis’ hair, “You should go get some sleep.”
Mantis let go of Peter. “No need for an apology. You get some sleep as well. I imagine you have a lot to think about.”
Peter let his shoulders sag. “Oh boy, don’t I ever.” He walked Mantis back to her room — which was just next door. “Sleep tight.”
“And if bed bugs come, they will get squashed!” Mantis said with a pump of her fist.
“That’s my girl!” Peter said as he waved goodbye and reentered his room.
He closed the door, took off his boots and belt, threw his sword on the floor, and crashed into bed with a soft grunt. In no time at all, he fell asleep. Green gems and glass faces were his last thoughts as he fell unconscious.
Gamora nearly punched his right arm off the next morning.
“Ow! Please, Gamora, that’s my most charming arm!” Peter said while rubbing his hurt limb.
Gamora glared unsympathetically at Peter. “It’s what you get for doing something so incredibly dangerous by yourself. You should have told us the moment you got that letter.”
After waking up and fueling himself with some coffee, Peter called an all-hands Guardians meeting. Most of the team was already in the common room; they just had to wait for Drax to wake up. Heather, always impatient, decided to barge into Drax’s room, yelling at him to get up before she started kicking things. All that while Phyla-Vell laughed at their antics. Afterwards, they all gathered around their old, wooden kitchen table — lovingly decorated with ringed water stains and mysterious scratches — and enjoyed the morning. To Peter’s dismay, he broke the jovial atmosphere with a summary of his conversation with Matriarch. He excluded any mention of his past identity and instead told his team that the Church was threatening to take over Knowhere if they did not retrieve a man of interest.
Phyla-Vell clenched her fists. “That’s an awful deal, Peter! We can’t let them blackmail us. I say let them come, we can take them!”
“You’re underestimating the Church’s power, dear. It’s practically an open secret that they control much of Deneb’s government,” Heather refuted, laying a calming hand on her partner’s back. Phyla-Vell leaned in and exhaled.
Drax chimed in with a mouth half full of eggs. “Then can’t we let Xandar know where the hideout is? We are more friendly with them, and they’ll take care of the Church all quick-like.”
Some murmurs of agreement floated around the room. After all, Xandar had been looking for an excuse to ruffle some Denebian feathers. Xandarians paying a visit to an area the Universal Church of Truth never wanted found? Anything could happen there.
Nevertheless, Peter made a pained face. “You guys aren’t thinking. If Deneb and Xandar go to war, guess which poor sap gets caught in the crossfire?”
The small, independent territory in between them: Knowhere.
Gamora sighed. “So, no going to Xandar.”
“I still think we could take them,” Phyla-Vell pouted.
Peter slid over to Phyla-Vell and gave her head a quick and fond shake. “Let’s avoid any unnecessary battles, Phyla. Knowhere only has us to protect it.”
In any other situation, Peter might have considered going to Xandar or even Titan to get some help taking on a hostile Church. He might have even considered an espionage mission to take down the leaders of the Church, letting the group fall apart without guidance. However, involving too many people could get his past blown wide open, and that would make this situation astronomically bigger and more dangerous for everyone. He decided they couldn’t go to anyone else — the Guardians would handle everything.
Peter looked toward Mantis, who had stayed mostly quiet throughout the conversation. He told her to pretend she didn’t know as much as she actually did, and her apparent solution was to limit her speech altogether.
Mantis finding out that Peter was a prince of Spartax was a full mistake. He was drunk. Really drunk. Mantis pulled the shortest straw and had to be the one to drag him back home while the others partied at Starlin’s after a successful mission. As they walked back, Mantis asked him where he got his necklace. He should have just said he forgot. No, instead he started talking about home, which got him talking about his mom, which got him talking about his dad. Unwittingly, he let a name slip out: J’son.
Mantis nearly dropped him on the pavement. Meanwhile, Peter felt the sudden urge to throw up, so he did. He held himself up by his arm on a wall and threw up on a random corner in Knowhere. Mantis held a comforting hand on Peter’s back, and that made more remorse climb his throat. A minute later, when he was done, he was shaking and close to tears; the vomit had little to do with it.
“Please,” Peter begged, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, “forget you heard that.”
Mantis, of course, did not forget that conversation, but she never brought it up again. The only indication that she remembered was whenever she would throw Peter a quick glance anytime Spartax was mentioned. Since that night, Peter avoided getting near blackout drunk.
When he got the letter from the Universe Church of Truth, he knew he wanted someone looking out for him in case he didn’t come back. Mantis, by default, was the only option. He had learned to accept Mantis as an accidental accomplice, even growing to appreciate her role in his life now. While he still hesitated on opening up about his time as royalty, Mantis and he would have occasional nights of fragile reminiscing — their similar mindsets made conversation flow easily.
Out of anyone to know his true identity, he was glad it ended up being kind, compassionate, and kick-ass Mantis.
Peter looked to her; he was pretty sure he knew her answer but he still wanted to ask. “Any thoughts?”
Mantis thought for a few seconds before answering; her face contorted in a slight grimace. “I agree that we should avoid any fighting. If getting this man is all they request, then that seems like the easier option.”
“Is it, though?” Gamora replied, “According to them, this is a guy that can destroy the world with a gem up his ass or whatever.”
Drax snorted. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I don’t care how powerful this individual might be,” Heather said as she walked to the sink to begin washing their breakfast dishes. “If all of us work together to take him down, it should be as easy as blinking.”
Drax emphatically nodded — Mantis following his head as it bobbed up and down, and Gamora following Mantis’ head. Phyla gave a loud “Yeah!”
“No,” Peter put his coffee cup down. “It’s safer to treat this man being god-like as fact. And if that’s the case, then I propose that I go check him out alone.
“What?!” The Guardians all yelled in unison.
Peter had a few reasons for wanting to go alone. First, at the end of the day, this was his fight — even if the majority of the team didn’t know it. It was his secret possibly being revealed; therefore, it should be him doing the dirty work and getting them all out of this mess. He could already hear the Guardians’ protests at this line of thinking, but his plan also had some logic to it. He did truly believe it would be safer to treat this unknown man as god-like, as unbelievable as it sounded. In cases where all you know of your target is that they are more powerful than you, you need more information. A weakness to exploit. Emotion to manipulate. Sending people to investigate is the best practice, but you can’t let the target feel outnumbered. The situation could get dangerous.
These are tactics Peter learned from Gamora, so it was no surprise when she recovered first. “It’s stupid, Peter. It’s so stupid.” She shook her head. “You can approach this guy alone and work whatever 'Star-lord charm' you can, but at least one of us needs to be close by. I won’t budge on that.”
“I’ll have you know my 'Star-lord charm' has gotten me at least three free drinks at Starlin’s and countless invitations for nighttime 'activities'.”
“Gross,” Phyla said.
“It’s countless because it’s zero,” Gamora replied.
Peter blew raspberries in their direction before replying, “I’m fine with you guys close by. Any volunteers?”
“Drax and I will go,” Gamora said.
Drax looked wide-eyed at Gamora, as if she had just revealed that breakfast was poisoned. “Me?”
“You can beat any bad guys we meet on the way,” Gamora reasoned.
Drax smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Great!” Peter exclaimed with a clap. “Us three will check out our guy while the rest stay in Knowhere and keep the peace. Any other comments?”
The room grew silent, the conversation officially over. Some unease still lingered, so Peter “accidentally” threw a spoonful of jam at Drax’s face. That got Drax yelling and the rest of the team giggling. Peter felt his shoulders relax as he laughed with his family.
Matriarch returned that night. This time, all the Guardians were stationed at various locations near them. Peter couldn’t help the grin that grew on his face, feeling protected and loved.
“Your answer?” Matriarch asked as soon as Peter was within earshot.
Peter crossed his arms as he approached. “I’ll get your man, but I also want to be there when you extract the gem.” Matriarch raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want you hurting this guy. That’s all.”
A third reason why Peter wanted to meet this man alone was because this predicament felt familiar. A runway who didn’t want anything to do with his past? Peter and this guy should start a club. The possibility of this man being dangerous was high, but Peter found his empathy growing more and more throughout the day. What if this man hated the powers he was gifted? Maybe he would give up the gem easily if it wasn’t the Church that was asking for it. What if this man had no desire to hurt people? What if he just wanted to be left alone?
Peter could relate to that. When he first arrived at Asterion Port, he thought he would live the rest of his life as a loner, maybe becoming a bard. Fortunately, a pickpocket saved him from that future. Overall, Peter concluded that this man did not deserve harsh treatment until proven otherwise. In fact, this guy might be in need of a hero, and isn’t that what Star-lord was always meant to be?
“Your presence can be arranged,” Matriarch replied, her voice low.
Peter held out his hand. “Then it looks like we have a deal.”
★ ★ ★
Three days and two nights later, Drax, Gamora, and Peter were near their target. The journey took them close to the southern mountains by Xandar, the area mostly being an untouched wonderland of waterfalls, diverse flora, cute animals, and bears (which Drax would argue are still cute). The team reached the peak of a small mountain and caught their first sight of a castle, standing proud on the top of a cliff. According to Matriarch, this castle was where their target was located. From a distance, all the team could see was that the stonework castle was on the smaller side, having one keep, one round tower, two spires, and curtain walls connecting all the structures. Gamora tried to glean if the castle had any defenses, but she couldn’t see any from their distance.
They continued to hike with occasional, tired complaints from Peter about this guy being in a hard-to-reach region. Drax laughed and claimed that “the more the legs burn the happier the eyes feel”. Peter agreed the sights were pretty, but he wasn’t so sure the jelly legs and sweaty pits were worth it.
After a bit more walking, they decided to set up a camp near a stream of water and hopefully far enough away from any residents. As they ate a late lunch, Peter and Gamora decided that they would scope out the area surrounding the castle. Peter would check the top of the cliff while Gamora would check the bottom. Drax meanwhile, antsy from the lack of encounters with enemies, went to hunt dinner.
As Peter got closer to the castle, he noted arrow slits on the walls, the lack of a mote, and a dirt path leading to the entrance, indicating that at least one person frequently comes and goes. Peter tried to avoid thorn bushes as he let his thoughts stray to the Church. They’ve always been, frankly, creepy. But to be fair they haven't actually done anything bad (that Peter knows about). They’ve mostly been annoying, demanding to be allowed into various nations in search of something. Peter surmised he now knows what they were searching for.
Magic gems were still mind-boggling concepts to Peter. He always loved magic and fairy tales, exhibiting excitement and wonder at the stories his mother would tell him. He used to imagine being a fairytale hero, Star-lord. Star-lord would get his magic from the sun and use his powers for the good of the universe. He’d be brave and have lots of friends and always do the right thing. He’d have magic boots that enabled him to fly, and a small, cannon-like weapon that fired light. His mother would giggle at his overactive imagination, but she never inhibited his big personality. She was the first to ask all sorts of questions about who Star-lord was, his motivation, his personality, his likes, his dislikes. She was even the one who inspired the name.
“If you’re going to be a big shot hero, you need a cool name,” she said to Peter while he sat on her lap.
Peter pouted and looked all around the reading room, desperate for inspiration. His blue eyes landed on the night sky outside.
Peter’s mother followed his gaze. “Did you know stars are just suns that are really far away?”
Peter snapped his head to face hers. “No way! That can't be real!”
“It’s true,” she said while raking her fingers in Peter’s hair. “They may be small compared to the majesty of our sun, but they are just as mighty if you get close enough.”
“So, they are all royalty, like me!”
“Yes,” his mother paused, looking toward the door of the room with solemn eyes. “like you.”
“I got it!” Peter said with a jump, “My superhero name will be Star-lord, and the world will see that he’s just as cool as any other hero or king!”
Peter wondered if little Pete would think being the leader of a band of misfits in a grungy city, an ocean away from home, was “cool”.
The snap of a twig brought Peter’s mind back to the present. Ducking behind the nearest tree for cover, he braced his back to the trunk and quieted his breathing. He briefly thought of Gamora and wondered if she was doing better than the cowering Peter was currently engaging in. Quiet footsteps followed the loud cracks of sticks and leaves. As they grew close to Peter’s hiding spot, his fingers tensed on the hilt of his sword. The languid march of the stranger continued, and Peter’s heart raced while he became increasingly aware of the bark dragging into his back. Eventually, the footsteps retreated, likely following the desire path Peter noticed earlier. When the steps grew more distant, Peter chanced a look at his surprise visitor.
They were like a fallen sun, fires trailblazing on the Earth. So much gold assaulted his vision that, for a brief moment, Peter felt like he was back at the Spartax treasury room. When his eyes adjusted to the new abundance of color, he realized just what he was staring at — a barber’s wet dream. No way was that amount of hair possible!
The figure slowly and wistfully strutted away from Peter, their head tilted up as if contemplating the very cosmos. A few butterflies performed a fluttering dance around their head, as if recognizing this person as one of their own. Behind them, a veil of hair cascaded down their body and overflowed into the ground below, picking up leaves and twigs, yet the locks of hair flowed easily. Upon more staring, Peter noticed how the hair was more a pale yellow than gold, the shining god rays making the strands shine with a golden hue. The stranger’s skin on the other hand was a golden tan, leaving Peter to question if that was even natural. The figure turned slightly, revealing a gleaming green gem on their forehead.
Peter’s focus locked onto the gem. So, this was the man wanted by the Church. Peter frowned, the wonder and serenity of the moment now gone.
Turning away from the retreating figure, Peter brought his attention to the castle ahead. If the man was out here, then the castle was open to explore. While Peter wasn’t sure if anyone else lived there, he figured his chance of winning a one-on-one fight with a not-potential-god to be pretty high.
The rest of his team would probably call him reckless, but right now all Peter could see was opportunity. Opportunity for information, and opportunity to get the job done by himself. Determined, Peter began quietly ascending to the castle, following the dirt path all the way to the entrance.
On the way up, he reviewed his options. Option A: break in, hope no one else is there, and gather any meaningful information. This was the safest option, but it required him to be fast since he had no idea when the man would come back home. Also, Peter wasn’t really sure what he was looking for. The man of interest and his gem were outside, and it wasn’t like the inside would have a big sign explicitly stating the man was allergic to roses or something.
Option B: break in, hide inside, and watch how the man lived. This was a way riskier play. Maybe Gamora could pull this off, but Peter wasn’t so sure of himself. Besides, when seeing the man Peter realized something; the guy is human. Yeah, he may look like some sun god walking on Earth, but in that forest, he did what any person would do: enjoy the day.
Therefore, Peter was leaning toward option C: approach the guy. This may be the riskiest option of them all if Mr. God Man ended up being Mr. Evil God Man, but this approach will potentially get Peter closest to his goal of getting the man back to the Church, willingly or not. It wasn’t a goal Peter was particularly happy about, but for the safety of his friends, home, and himself, he had to do whatever it took.
Besides, Peter was essentially the walking personification of charm. No matter what kind of person this man was, Peter was confident in his ability to get out mostly unscathed.
His mind made up, Peter trekked the rest of the way to the castle by purposefully running into bushes, stepping into mud, getting dirt all over himself, and letting a branch or two rip his clothes. The intention was to look pathetic, and according to the rest of his team, Peter happened to be very good at this.
The castle, despite the fortifications it featured, was easy to get into. The front door was unlocked — clearly because someone breaking in would be insane. With a blithe scamper, Peter went inside and stood in the middle of the foyer to take in the atmosphere. While the outside looked impressive, the inside clearly was not made to entertain guests. Don’t get him wrong, the architecture was beautiful, but the area was so big, dark, and barren that he could be convinced the entire building was abandoned. A staircase led to a tempting second floor, but Peter decided to check out the kitchen to his immediate right.
Unlike the foyer, the kitchen felt lived in. Windows adorned two walls, flooding the area with sunlight. A small breakfast nook took over a corner of the room. Some cabinet doors were wide open. Bowls, cutting boards, and cutlery were strewn about. One specific bowl harbored rising dough. Despite the misplaced items, the room was generally clean and spacious. A pantry door innocently stood at one end of the kitchen. As expected, a variety of random dry and canned food was found inside. On one shelf was a small basket of white bread loaves.
Genius plan forming in his mind, Peter closed the pantry door behind him, grabbed a bread loaf, and waited in the dark. After around 30 minutes of twiddling his thumbs, Peter heard the opening and closing of the front door. He stayed painfully quiet as the newcomer moved around the first floor of the castle. Eventually, he heard the kitchen door open. The sounds of matches being struck, rattling of utensils, and splashes of water filled the room. Someone was beginning to cook, just as Peter hoped.
With a deep, stabilizing breath, Peter purposely knocked over a broom in the closet. Immediately, the rustling from the kitchen stopped. Peter watched the crack under the door as a shadow grew closer and closer to the pantry. The doorknob moved slightly but did not turn all the way.
“Rats?” a deep, harmonious voice asked.
Alright, Quill, time to show the world your acting chops. Mama didn’t call you her bestest little actor for nothing. Breathing in, Peter answered, “Um, squeak?” Perfect.
In a flash, the pantry door was thrown open and Peter came face to face with the man he wished to see. The light of the setting sun from the windows and the light from the lanterns around the room bathed the man in a golden aura. The force of the door opening blew his hair to the side, where Peter noticed a few leaves were still stuck. Now being so close, Peter could see that the man sported a prominent nose and a killer jawline. A literal storybook dreamboat come to life. Is this what the Church is into? As much as Peter hated to admit it, he understood.
The man’s eyes were a strange, otherworldly iris-less and pupil-less white. Matriarch’s insistence of a god-man walking among them was questionable at best, but actually seeing the guy, Peter suddenly found the conclusion hard to argue.
Peter didn’t get to stare at the man for much longer because pain abruptly exploded in his head. He dropped his bread loaf and fell to the ground with a loud thud. Before losing consciousness, he noticed the man holding a frying pan in his right hand. Killed by a pan, huh? Not the worst way to go.
Notes:
it has been an absolute joy to work on this AU with Jwiqt. They've already made so much content it's actually insane. In these after chapter notes, I want to share any other pieces/sketches she's done that don't make it into the story. Starting off, we have character designs for both Adam and Peter, and then an early first sketch of them together.
But that's not all. In perhaps the most insane move imaginable Jwiqt made a whole colored animatic of the entire story of this AU. Be warned, this video technically contains spoilers for future story beats, but things are still vague enough that it's not easy to tell exactly what will happen.
Watch via this YouTube link.
Finally, I don't want to promise anything about the frequency of updates, but I will say I hope to not go more than a month without updating.
Thanks for reading, Happy Pride Month (this coming out during pride was totally planned, trust me), and it's still June 3rd where I am, so I can say DELTARUNE TOMORROW WOOOO!
