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wri0thesley · 1 year

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the perfect date - mahito x reader (3.8k)

there are a couple of drawbacks to being with a curse, romantically speaking. mahito, though, would like to remind you . . . there are also some benefits.

cw: not sfw. reader is afab, but no gendered pronouns are used. mahito's transformative powers are used (tongue, shifting genital size). oral (reader receiving), edging. the softest mahito i can possibly write, but there's still . . . an edge to him! pet names including 'cutie' and 'darling'.

this was a commissioned work.

Nights like this, you can almost forget that what you and Mahito have isn’t normal.

Mahito sits beside you on your sofa, his body curled about you like a cat. Arms wrapped about your waist, head lolling against your shoulder, so close that you can see every stitch that decorates his body, smell his peculiar springtime-and-sweet-rot scent every time you breathe in. It is not an entirely unpleasant scent - and it’s one that you relax into, that makes you feel like you’re at home.

The television is blaring some choice of movie that Mahito had picked out from your collection - he’s always fascinated by your tastes, prodding and poking you to explain why you have this one, what do you like about it, won’t you sit and watch it with him--?

You, of course, are helpless to resist doing anything the curse asks of you.

Tonight’s choice is a romantic thriller. There’s some plot about a secret document and an FBI agent and star-crossed lovers on the wrong sides of a dispute; but you’ve reached your own favourite part of the movie by now. The two lovers are taking a stroll through a beachside amusement park - one of those tacky things that’s all painted striped sidings and romantic carnival games. One of the lovers wins a small stuffed animal in a shooting game booth, only for their partner to win the jackpot, a huge and luridly pastel bunny clasped between them. They share a pink cotton candy in the shape of a heart, ride a Tunnel of Love, share a kiss at the very top of a ferris wheel--

And quite against your will, quite unexpectedly, as you watch this show of romantic affection - your heart gives a sickening lurch in your chest.

You have always wanted that, too.

You have watched this movie plenty of times and imagined yourself on this date; fluttering your lashes demurely at the attendant at the Tunnel of Love, revelling in the fond glances of passers-by as you and your beloved take a photograph of you with the giant bear or rabbit or panda they won for you. You have daydreamed about romance and dates and showing off your beau to everyone you meet--

And though you are not lonely, for nobody who had Mahito as a paramour could ever feel that way . . . there is a soft little empty ache inside of you that reminds you that what you have is not quite the fairytale of your dreams.

“Hey,” Mahito’s voice is pouty as he shifts against you, silken silver hair brushing your arm. He gives you a poke that just manages to avoid being painful. “You’re not paying attention. What are you thinking about?”

You start guiltily and look at him. Curious bicoloured eyes stare up at you; he doesn’t look angry. He seems more amused. Your little mortal foibles are a source of endless fascination for him.

“I was watching the movie,” you say to him, which isn’t entirely true. And then you say; “I was thinking about going on dates.”

And that one is entirely true.

There are problems with the romantic relationship you share with Mahito. Some of them are more obvious than others; at his very core, he is not really human, and you do not know how much he feels human emotions. He has an intense fondness and affection for you, yes - but you know, too, that he is capable of great hatred in the name of his boundless curiosity and the purposes which formed him. Whenever he tells you about his experiments, though, and you show a brief flare of disquiet . . . Mahito giggles and pokes your cheeks and bestows cool kisses all over your face, decrying passionately;

“Not you, cutie. Not ever you. You’re my favourite!”

That should bother you more, you think - and yet, as you watch this romance unfold on screen and these two actors play-act at the perfect date . . . you find that the thing that makes you ache most about being with Mahito is not what he might do, not what he has done, not even the things he tells you he’s going to do to mortals who do not have as much of his favour and adoration as you do . . . but that you will never get this brand of hokey romance.

It’s rare enough that you have the ability to see him - if you were to take him to a funfair like this one, you would surely just look like one person wandering around, all alone. How sad you would seem on the Tunnel of Love, on a single boat with no lover to share it with - nobody would give you admiring looks or whisper behind their hands what a cute couple you and Mahito make.

And it is not just the date.

There will never be pictures all over your house of Mahito and you. You’re not even sure he would show up in the photographs, if you tried to take them. There will be no wedding, no holidays, no official moving in day (Mahito does live with you, but that was rather more like a cat choosing its owner, making itself at home with no formal invitation). You will never be able to introduce him to your friends and family, nor even talk about him to them, lest they want to meet him and then discover the truth of what he is (that is, if they could even see him).

You have known all of this in the back of your mind. You’ve pushed it back watching gory horror movies and fantasy and science fiction, giving Mahito copies of your favourite books to read - but suddenly now, faced with this movie and the simplicity of ‘going on a date with somebody you care about’ . . . it has all come crashing to the forefront, and you feel an empty ache of something you will never truly have.

“I’ll go on a date with you!” Mahito chirps it easily. Helplessly, you flutter your hands around, trying to grasp for the right words. “Mmm, I could take you to the place I used to live? Ah, or the movie theatre? We might have to try a late-night showing, but . . .”

“That’s not it,” you say, and you realise in frustration that your voice cracks. Mahito stiffens at the emotion in your voice - and then moves, getting onto his knees, gathering the long lithe limbs of his body together so that he can take your chin in his hand and force you to look at him. “I just . . . it’s all so romantic, you know? A-and we . . . we won’t get anything like that--”

His face is quizzical; eyes wide, one eyebrow cocked, mouth pursed in thought. He’s beautiful even like that - the stitches that bisect his face serving to give him a kind of inhuman beauty that makes your heart drum against your ribcage.

“And I want to!” You continue, suddenly worried that he’ll take your frustration at the situation as frustration about him. “I want to show you off! I want to make my friends jealous and d-do all those normal couple things--”

Realisation dawns over his face.

“Oh,” he says. And then, this time, a smile splitting his face like the cat that has gotten the cream; “Oh. Darling. Oh.”

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up; and a familiar feeling low in your stomach and between your thighs that Mahito’s pleased purr has drawn out.

Before you can breathe, Mahito has manoeuvred you into the exact position he wants you in - and you are laid out on your own couch with the curse atop of you, straddling your waist. One hand reaches down to cup your cheek, his thumb pressing into the soft skin there. He lowers his face until it’s so close you can see your own reflection in his eyes.

“Cutie,” he breathes, the word full of intent. “You’re right in that I can’t give you that kind of thing . . . But don’t you think human romance can be so boring? So predictable?” He rolls the words around in his mouth, savouring them, his mouth turning up at the corners in a smile that’s almost lascivious. “Do you need me to remind you of all of the benefits of having something like me as a lover?”

Your pulse rabbits, and you know that Mahito can surely sense how it quickens - can probably smell the way your desire has spiked in the air, can certainly see how your eyes have gone dark and wide, the way that your breath escapes your parted lips.

He leans down and kisses you, hard; his mouth cool against yours, his teeth automatically nipping at your bottom lip. Your own mouth falls open in a silent surrender, and Mahito’s tongue greedily brushes over your own. That spot just behind your front teeth, on the roof of your mouth . . . and you realise with a start that Mahito’s tongue isn’t quite human.

He pulls back with a satisfied grin, humming low in the back of his throat - and you see a flash of that inhuman tongue he has crafted, longer and thicker than any mortal tongue has ever been.

“What kind of things do you think I could do with this?” He asks you, letting it loll out a little. The expression should by rights look silly; but on Mahito it looks dangerous and horribly attractive all at once. You feel your cheeks go hot, your body squirm beneath him. “Aww! You’re too shy to tell me?”

He laughs, and like liquid, he slides himself off of you and onto his knees on the floor. Strong, long fingers tug at your body, moving you like a doll, until you are sitting in front of him and he is between your legs, your back against the sofa cushions. Seeing Mahito’s curious eyes peering at you from there, you know exactly what kind of thing he has in mind, and your stomach twists in pleasurable anticipation.

“Let’s get these off of you,” he says, tugging at your clothes. “So impractical! You should just not bother with clothes when we’re alone.”

Your bottoms and underwear slip easily from your hips and thighs - ignored and tossed aside by Mahito, who has a one-track mind when he has something he has set his sights on. And what he has currently set his sights on is what lies between your legs. He nudges his cheek against your thigh, an impatient order for you to spread - and who are you to deny him?

“Oh!” He exclaims in glee, as you shyly part them and he sees your sex, glistening wet for him. “Mmm, you’re excited for this too?” That too-big tongue is peeking out from between his lips, and as you look at it the tip changes just a little; becomes somewhat more bulbous, more like the head of a cock-- “Don’t be getting all nervous on me, now!”

You let out a soft noise of surprise as Mahito dives between your legs with no more fanfare than that.

Mahito does all things with enthusiasm, whether you’re prepared for them or not; and you are not prepared for the way one of your thighs is easily slung over his muscular shoulder, or the peculiar feeling of the tongue he has transfigured as it laps down your heated core in one long, quick movement. Mahito moans in pleasure at the way your thighs tense, the taste of you spilling over his lips - pauses after his lick to whisper;

“I could eat you alive, you taste so sweet--”

And then turns back to the task at hand with gleeful abandon.

Your fingers find purchase on the edge of the sofa cushion, your other hand going almost automatically to tangle in Mahito’s silky silvery locks. He doesn’t seem to care about how they tug on his hair a bit; instead, he merely moans into your sex and redoubles his efforts.

Messily, he laps and licks at you - that inhuman tongue covers more of your folds than should be possible, almost as if he wants to make good on the promise to eat you alive. Every so often, you feel the dangerous brush of teeth against your most sensitive parts; but Mahito doesn’t let it be any more than a hint, the slightest graze. He’s far too busy drinking you in like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

It’s more rigid than a human tongue should be, too; when it teases at your entrance, drawing circles around it, your hips jerk up towards it in surprise from how much it feels like a finger or something even bigger. Mahito lets out a huff of laughter, thrusts it in just a few scant centimetres - and pulls back, leaving your channel aching and tingling with desire to be filled with something for far longer than he let you.

He moves his attentions to your clit instead; toying with the bud, rolling it with his tongue, flickering the tip against the swollen little bud until you are tugging harder at his hair, whining softly, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. He never gives quite enough pressure to let you come. Instead, the way he’s playing with you has little bubbles of arousal coursing through your veins, letting you teeter on the very edge, your climax almost almost in view--

Before he pulls back, lavishes wet kisses on your thighs instead, leaving you trembling on the edge of an orgasm that he isn’t yet ready to let you fall head-first into.

“M-Mahito . . .” You manage to whine out, though you feel breathless and light-headed. “D-don’t tease me--”

He stops and looks up at you from between your legs; you’re struck by how beautiful he is, even with your own slick making his mouth and chin shiny. His eyes are lit bright, lips smiling, silver hair all ruffled. There’s something inhuman in him, yes - but like this, it’s a beautiful inhumanity, like an angel. A smirk curls his mouth.

“But you’re so cute when I do!”

He ducks his head down again, his tongue back to its incessant working over of your sex. Your body thrums with tension that has not been allowed to come to a head; you whimper out your desire to be allowed more, but Mahito does not seem to care. You’re clearly just too cute to him utterly at his mercy; trembling and sweating and hoping that he’ll take a little pity on you.

He alternates between fucking shallowly into you with his inhuman tongue (not deep enough, never deep enough), and playing with your clit. Circling it, suckling on it, treating your spread thighs like a dessert buffet to be sampled and toyed with. You want him to eat his fill. The longer he spends edging you, teasing you, not letting you come . . . The hazier you begin to feel.

Your breath comes in short sharp little gasps, your chest heaving. You think you must be on fire.

“M-Mahito . . . ‘hito . . .” You’re practically hiccuping out the words. Your voice is a slurred mess of a thing. “Need to . . . Please . . . ‘m sorry, you’re . . .”

His mouth separates from you. A lewd gossamer strand of your arousal clings to the corner of his mouth, connecting your sex and his lips.

“Poor thing,” he coos. “You really need it, don’t you? You need me to give you what you want?”

He lets the question stretch in the air until you can get your tongue around the question.

“Yes,” you manage to moan out, your voice soft and small and pathetic. “Mahito . . . please make me come--”

His teeth glint bright in the light of the living room, and then he is diligently bent between your legs again, and his lips fasten around the pearl of your clit.

This time, he doesn’t pull back as the wave crests the shore. This time, Mahito keeps his mouth around it; keeps sucking and licking, keeps flicking the tip of his tongue over it, until the tide crashes over you and you think that you might black out from the sheer force of the pleasure finally being allowed to reach its zenith.

You’re crackling. Floating on air. A slick gush of more of your arousal paints Mahito’s face, your toes curling, your mouth slack and wide open, as the orgasm does not so much ‘wash’ over you as it drowns you, fills every one of your senses with nothing but its inescapable warmth and comfort and rapture.

Mahito’s eyes look up at you from between your legs, drinking in the way that your satisfaction changes the taut lines of your face and body. He mouths something that you don’t hear, because of the roar of contentment that drowns out everything but the pools of heat that are supposed to be your body.

(If you didn’t know better, you’d almost say . . . that the shape of his lips almost seemed like he murmured ‘perfect’).

He stands and you are boneless to do anything but watch him, dazed from the release he’s finally allowed you to feel. He shrugs off his shirt without a care in the world, pushing his sweatpants down - he wears no underwear, and you watch as his body moves and ripples and suddenly between his toned thighs where there once was nothing, is a cock standing hard to attention with pearly beads of precome gathering on the head.

“Not too big?” He coos at you, as he curls his hands beneath your knees and moves your position so that you’re entirely at his mercy once more, hard cock nudging between the lips of your sex. You look up at him, panting. You can’t make any noises other than a whine, canting your hips forward in a motion that is clearly meant to read ‘get on with it and fuck me’. He laughs. “Alright, cutie! We’ll see what you can take when I’m inside of you, hmm?”

Your body is entirely willing as Mahito thrusts and his cock sinks as deep into you as it can go, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen clit as he bottoms out. He lets out a groan of satisfaction deep and low that whispers pleasurably down your spine. The position you’re in doesn’t quite let you cling to Mahito, so instead you grip the cushions and prepare to be fucked.

Not that you have any complaints about that.

Mahito doesn’t take his time with this, either; he immediately slides into a rhythm that, had you not been wet from the way he’d lavished you with his tongue and dreamy from your orgasm, would almost be painful. Instead, it veers on almost-too-much-but-not-quite - Mahito’s hips sliding backwards and forwards, the shaft of his cock sliding in and out with a delicious wet friction that makes goosebumps rise over your bare skin.

You don’t realise it until you hear it, but you’re moaning with every thrust.

“Oh, you like this?” Mahito murmurs, smiling down at you. There’s a wicked glint in his eyes. “Mm . . . I think this might be better if I was a little thicker, don’t you?”

You feel the way his cock shifts inside of you - the way that the slick tunnel of your sex constricts around the thing inside of it, thicker than it was before, bigger. You can hear your heart beating in your ears. It’s even too much for Mahito - his pace stutters, his eyes rolling back into his head and a guttural groan of pleasure falling from his lips.

“I--I wouldn’t need to make you tighter,” he says, his voice dreamy. “You fit like a glove--”

You lose sense of time for a while after that.

There is only the sensation of Mahito inside of you, your heart beating in your chest, Mahito’s breath and yours intermingling. The way that his cock flexes inside of you, expanding by the tiniest of increments until you feel so full you could burst, deeper and wider and more than you’ve ever taken before. Mahito whispers soft praise to you, telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him . . .

And making you shudder and shake, filling you up, rubbing himself against you. You moan and whine and pant and thrust your hips - skin slapping against skin, the hot tight knot of pleasure inside of you threatening to unravel with every slight movement.

“You’re going to come again for me,” Mahito says to you, when you feel stretched to the very limit - when he is barely fucking into you any more, because he’s filled you up so well that the pleasure comes from the feel of him and not from the movement. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you?” A hand drops your knee; slips between your legs to roughly draw jagged circles over your clit.

Your moan seems to hover in the air, a shimmering moment - this one final movement is too much. You see stars as the knot breaks and heat flows through your body like the blood in your veins, your fingers and toes tingling, your sex pulsing about Mahito’s cock.

It’s too much for him too. With a cry of your name, Mahito’s hips stutter once, twice, and then the cock inside of you pulses in tandem with your body and you feel something thick and cool coat your insides, ropes of Mahito’s release claiming your body as his (as if he needed to)--

While you’re still half-delirious with the aftershocks of your release, he changes his cock just enough to slide out of you. His come and your own wetness have probably left a stain on the sofa, but you cannot bring yourself to care right there and then.

And neither can he.

Mahito sighs in pleasure, collapsing on top of you in a way that somehow manages to be elegant. Your breath comes in soft pants, between your thighs still aching a little from the way Mahito had played with size and shape inside of you, stretching you out. He’s like a cat once more with the way he immediately makes your hapless body his home, curling his head upon your shoulders and his arms around you, slotting himself into your lap.

“Don’t you think that’s so much more pleasurable than anything a normal lover could do?” He asks you, a little smug. He nuzzles his face against you affectionately, always tactile, always wanting to touch you, always fascinated and adoring.

“. . . Yes,” you admit to him, breathlessly. Your throat still feels a touch dry from the pleasured noises that Mahito had wrung from you. “You’re better than any human could ever be.”

Mahito laughs wild and bright, his eyes flashing in the light. He reaches up and pulls you into another messy kiss; hand wrapping around the back of your neck, tongues and teeth clashing, claiming ownership of you and giving you parts of himself in one fell swoop.

“You’re better than any other human will ever be,” he tells you, perfectly sincerely. “The only one I could ever - will ever - want. And I want you forever.”

You do not know if Mahito is really capable of love, in the way that you love him. A creature made from human’s hatred will perhaps never know love in that sense of the word. But for Mahito--

That is simply how he would say ‘I love you’, in his own peculiar way.

#jjk x reader #mahito x reader #mahito smut #jjk smut #writing #commissioned work #not sfw text #jjk posting

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paintedstitches · 23 days

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Hey! I really love your Stardew valley jacket and I've been looking for a new cross stitch project so I decided to give it a go!

This is a test piece I did and I'm so excited to put Pokemon all over my jean jacket!

Hi :) what a cutie! This jacket will look great! Please keep me postet <3

#paintedstitches #ask

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save-the-villainous-cat · 2 years

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hero x villain enemies with benefits i beg 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

The last hookup was two days ago and it really, really shouldn’t have bothered the villain that much. But seeing the hero kiss another hero on TV for all the publicity made their blood boil. They didn’t know why this affected them so much, after all, they weren’t even dating.

But seeing them together activated the most primitive part in their brain. It was like a switch. They’d always been a quiet villain. Someone who knew how to shut up. They were an observer, hiding their feelings at all cost.

They’d started seeing the hero a few months ago and to visit them and vice versa three to four times a week had become a routine. The villain didn’t exactly know if the hero was feeling the same things but 24 hours after sleeping with each other the villain always got incredibly needy.

The hero was like a drug.

“Are you okay?” The villain’s head rocketed up and their eyes stared into the hero’s. Their enemy was sitting on their hips, their shirt already deserted on the floor. They looked incredible, they always did.

“Yeah…I’m alright,” the villain answered promptly. They must’ve spaced out with all these thoughts running through their mind.

Their hands grabbed the hero’s thighs a bit harder and without even thinking, they pressed them against their own body.

“You know,” the hero said as they leaned forward, “you can tell me what’s going on.”

They kissed the villain, their hands digging through the villain’s hair. Inexplicable desires filled the villain, it filled them fully, right up to the brim. They’d never felt like this. They wanted the hero. They wanted them now, they wanted them forever.

Craving their nemesis was a horrible yet wonderful feeling.

“No it’s okay, really.” The hero traced the stitching on the villain’s underwear which made them moan quietly. The villain seemed to explode with pleasure as the hero grabbed their waistband and pulled them down so cruelly slow.

“Is it?” the hero asked as they leaned down, kissing the villain’s hip and crossing all the way to the other. “Is it really okay?”

“I—” The villain felt the heavy blush on their cheeks. Everything was so hot. Their heart was racing. They were breathing heavily. It was almost painful how much time the hero took for themselves to explore the villain.

“Talk to me.”

The hero kissed their sensitive skin again. This time, with their tongue.

“Oh god—”

The hero let out a satisfied hum as their villain moaned again, pushing their hips up.

“Tell me what’s going on, cutie…” They came back up to the villain’s lips and kissed them gently. “Tell me what’s wro—”

“I love you,” the villain groaned. “I’m in love with you.”

“Oh?” the hero asked. The villain wanted to explain everything, but then, the hero’s hand dipped into their underwear instantly. “You love me?”

“Yes,” the villain confessed. Without much further ado, they grabbed the hero’s ass and pushed them down again which blessed them with a sharp breath. “I didn’t want this—”

By now, the hero was breathing heavily too, their body almost completely pressed against the villain.

“Baby, I love you, too.”

Somehow, it felt like the hero was taking the villain’s virginity again this night.

#I dunno why the hero always kisses their colleague in my snippets #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #suggestive

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imtrashraccoon · 3 months

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He's still being a manipulative piece of crap in this one, what else can I say? At least there's glimpses of a good person somewhere in his soul?

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Killer - Stitched

Word Count: 1,349

It was nice not having to worry about going to work lately. You'd always worked so hard, so having a little impromptu vacation was probably something you deserved, even if you couldn't do everything you wanted to do because of your bum ankle.

You were currently camped out on the couch watching whatever happened to be interesting on tv. It wasn't a bad way to spend your day, although you'd been doing this for a couple days now and it was starting to get slightly boring.

Well, until Killer suddenly popped into existence in the middle of your living room anyways. He had his hands in his pockets and causally glanced around the room before his gaze fell on you.

"oh hey, did you miss me, angel?" he asked in teasing tone.

You crossed your arms and gave him a stern look. "Hardly...you have some nerve showing up here again," you grumbled.

"aw, you're not still mad at me for that, right?"

"Yes, I am actually. It's not fun being in pain and having to hobble everywhere you know."

He chuckled and proudly planted his hands on his hips. "well, lucky it's your lucky day, because i'm here to cheer you up!" he exclaimed in an enthusiastic tone.

You were unamused and just looked up at him blankly. "You're so lucky I didn't tell either Axe or Dust what you did. They were pretty concerned you know when they saw me..."

He waved you off and seemed completely unaffected by your mild threat. "they can't exactly hurt me, cutie. not without someone else noticing and asking questions anyways..."

You realized he was talking about their boss, whoever they were, and shut yourself up before you could retort. You didn't know much of anything about them but from what little you had inferred, mostly from Dust, they weren't one to be messed around with.

"aw...don't cry again. i didn't mean anything awful by that, okay?"

You huffed and crossed your arms. "I wasn't going to cry!" you insisted.

Killer hummed quietly and gave you a skeptical look.

With a sigh, you looked down at your feet and how your ankle was still tightly wrapped up. What was his problem anyways? Why were you constantly agitated whenever he said anything?

"You're literally the worst," you muttered under your breath.

He chuckled and moved slightly closer so he could leer over you. "why thank you! i try my best~" he purred.

You smacked his shoulder.

While you hadn't hit him hard, you instantly regretted doing so when the corners of his permanent grin quirked up slightly. A chill ran down your spine at the dangerous look he gave you.

"oh, i see how it is now..." he murmured. He stared down at you before slowly poking your forehead with a boney finger as if he was pressing an imaginary button.

You tried to swat his hand away but he only used his other hand instead, continuing to poke and prod at your face and arms. It wasn't like he was trying to tickle you either, just bug you incessantly until you got frustrated.

You tried to swipe at him again, but he was ready this time and effortlessly sidestepped your attack.

"is that all you got, angel cheeks?"

Oh he did not.

You took a deep breath and counted to ten.

He reached out and poked your cheek.

That was the last straw. With a fury that could rival an enraged mountain lion, you launched yourself at him and just barely managed to latch onto his ribcage.

He seemed momentarily surprised by your assault, before his hands came up and hooked around your waist. You couldn't tell if he was trying to fight back or keep you from falling and you frankly didn't care right now.

You didn't care though. Throwing your whole weight against him, you forced him off balance and both of you landed in a pile of limbs on the carpet. Ignoring the stinging from the impact, you wasted no time trying to pin him down.

Killer seemed to recover faster than you'd expected and he quickly began to fight back. Although, he was far stronger than a skeleton should be and it was actually challenging to keep him from shoving you off. He was mostly just trying to hold you up with his arms and wasn't attempting to use his legs at all, possibly because of your bad ankle?

"Ha! I got you..." You were out of breath and probably going to have several bruises, but you'd finally managed to restrain his wrists against the floor by his head.

He was completely unbothered and if anything, looked kind of amused by this situation. He tentatively flexed his bones and you responded by applying more pressure.

"good job," he responded softly. "you got me..."

You narrowed your eyes at the obvious sarcasm in his voice. While you'd been trying your hardest while wrestling, his attempts to fight back had seemed lackluster at best. Almost like he had wanted this to happen...

You shifted your left leg to readjust the way you were sitting, but when you felt the carpet brush against your bare skin, you gasped. Glancing down proved your worst fears to be true, and there was a large tear on the left knee of your favorite pair of leggings. You quickly released him and rolled onto the floor to examine the tear much more closely.

"aw...it was just getting good too," Killer grumbled quietly. He sat up and scooted over to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "what happened, cute thing?"

"I...tore my leggings..." you muttered.

"get another pair then? it's what i do whenever that happens."

You huffed and looked back at him. "I can't, at least not one that's the same. I bought them years ago at a thrift store and the company doesn't make them anymore."

His bonebrows furrowed slightly but he couldn't seem to formulate a response.

"They were my favorite pair too. I don't think I could properly mend them but even if I could, they'd never be the same..."

You struggled to your feet and grabbed your crutches. Weirdly enough, Killer didn't make any more snarky comments as you hobbled to your room to change into something else.

He hung around for maybe two hours afterwards but you noticed he had grown oddly quiet. He had always seemed like the type that couldn't shut up even if he tried, so it was a bit worrying. Whenever you attempted to ask if he was okay and reassure him that you weren't mad about this, he'd brush you off and talk about something unrelated instead.

It was only after he left, that you decided to take a another look at the leggings again. Maybe you could look up a tutorial online to figure out the best way to mend it or something. Except, they weren't on your dresser where you'd left them and even though you looked all over your room, they were nowhere to be found.

That is, until the next morning, when you found them folded up on your kitchen table with another note.

"hey angel cakes, they're not the same but i hope you don't mind. if you ask me, they're even better this way. i hope you like them! killer <3"

When you unfolded the leggings, you discovered that not only had they been mended, but whoever had done so had added some intricate embroidery to both knees. The stitching was rather elaborate and it looked like a light green vine with several small red hearts. You had to admit it was kind of pretty looking but you weren't sure if it was better per say. You'd have to wear them to find out.

It begged the question though, why had Killer done this for you? And why had he taken it upon himself to try and fix things when you'd gotten hurt from his prank? He was still being as mean as ever and you didn't understand at all what he was going for at this point.

#badsansuary #raccoons drabbles #undertale #killertale #something new #killer sans #killer sans x reader #reader #female reader #have some empathy dear #oneshot

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palfriendpatine66 · 4 months

Text

Writers Block Hack

I won’t pretend to have all the answers. But I’ve been asked several times what gets me out of a writers block so here are my answers and the hack that works best for me (see #3)

1) doing something else creative until a new idea strikes. Read, draw, cross stitch, paint. Whatever. [Pro: ideally a distraction and cleanses the mind while producing some serotonin for creating new things. Con: takes the longest for sure. Have to sit with the *but I could be writing right now* feeling]

2) begging mutuals to send in asks and writing them a new sentence of a snippet for the wip of their choice [Pro: the most motivating for me. Instant feedback! Sparks interest in projects I might not have been thinking of. Con: can’t do it all the time without being a needy bitch.]

3) spinners - randomly generated/app based or these cuties I got from target and I find harder to ignore because the result is *right there* looking at me

I put the wips I want to tackle on one spinner and a manageable number of sentences on the other. Worst case: I write a relatively small number of sentences and then set it aside, having the satisfaction boost of meeting a set goal. I either spin again if I want to keep writing, or set it aside because I accomplished a writing task for the day. Best case: I get on a roll and keep going!

[Pro: the most productive and cohesive, gets me back on track on a project with something concrete to show for it. Also I usually discover what I actually want to be working on if I spin and get disappointed by what it lands on! Con: no instant feedback. Takes the most concentrated effort to make things work.]

#your pal’s lecture series #writing things

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zavyadezinct · 8 days

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Hey cutie, working on any craft projects at the moment? Care to share?

Mostly been doing cross stitch of late. Been far too busy with work, got a promotion so it's been a big adjustment.

Thank you for the ask! 💚

#anon ask #answered #post your crafts

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ogrefairy · 7 months

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I am so happy to share a collaboration between me and K.S.C. Hatch who created this fantastic embroidery using a couple of my Disabled Cuties for their Sacred Love/Sacred Lives series.

A series of mixed-medium embroidery pieces celebrating the sacredness of disabled, trans, and queer folks.

You can see more of their work on their website kaitlynschatch.com/sacred-lovesacred-lives and @ksc_hatch on instagram

The postcard is by @radicalemprints on instagram

[ID: three photos the first features three items displayed. the embroidery hoop shows a work that was carefully stitched that features two of my Disabled Cuties. The first has brown skin and black hair. They are wearing purple underwear and are using a hot pink manual wheelchair. The second person is white and has long brown hair. They are wearing dark blue underwear and are using a light blue power wheelchair. Above them it reads "Disabled Love is Sacred" and beneath the words there is a little heart pin. Above the piece there is a patch which reads ""Cross-Disability Solidarity" and next to it is a post card that reads "Our Love is More Powerful Than Profits. anti-capitalist love notes"

The next photo has all of the same things except the embroidery hoop is flipped over to show the back and the signatures. It reads "A Collaboration Ksc sept 2023 AND Ogrefairy"

The last image is a stand alone of the postcard by radicalemprints

#disabled artist #disabledartist

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bornspellcaster · 1 year

Text

Little Firefly - Chapter 3

(When the time pool closes before she reaches it and Luz finds herself hopelessly stuck in ancient times, an incident forces her to work together with her enemy to ensure their survival. In the midst of it, Luz learns there may be more than meets the eye to the frigid Puritan, and discovers the real secret to saving The Boiling Isles may just lie in reuniting an estranged family…)

Chapter 3 - Spiders And Witches, Oh My!

Chapter index

“GOOOOOOD MORNING!” a cosmic child squealed as he spiraled upwards into the air in a merry corkscrew, and doused the two humans in a shower of stars.

Luz couldn’t help but laugh, holding her hands out to try and catch them. Her eyes were sparkling with glee, where Philip still showed his aghast skepticism. “Philip, it's SOOOO cute!”

“It’s a child,” Philip said flatly.

The Collector squeaked as the teenager reached over and dangled one of his little feet. It felt strange, like the illusion of touching cloth, as if even if she didn’t feel it physically on her fingers, she could feel it in her mind. He felt like a ghost. An adorable little ghost.

“Aw they’re a cutie is what they are! Who’s got a cute little foot? Is it you? Is it you??”

“It’s a child,” Philip repeated, and his voice was somehow even flatter than before. His eyes were half lidded. He could not believe this. He could not believe his fucking luck.

“A cutie patootie!” Luz hugged the little cosmic child against her, and his reaction was immediately reciprocating. “I. LOVE him!”

“Ahehehehe! Aww, you’re really swell yourself!” He snuggled into the witchlet’s hold. She felt the phantom touch of an almost silky sensation against her skin. In her mind she could somewhat make out an appearance of stitched stars and crescent moons. She saw the colors navy blue and lilac purple. She felt the ghost of a tickle from his strands of hair.

“…ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Philip’s outburst startled both children so badly they both nearly tumbled back onto their haunches. Birds flew out of the trees they were standing under. “YOU’RE A CHILD?!”

“HEY! I’m more than just ‘a child’, you old fuddy duddy!” The Collector snapped. Their silhouette jumped to the bark of one of the auburn trees and darkened it black with their cheshire grinning shadow. “Be nice or leaf me alone!”

Luz burst into laughter and Philip merely groaned, running his fingers through his greasy hair as he disregarded his injury and paced in fury. “I don’t want to be stuck with another child! I’m still trying to get rid of THIS child that’s following me!”

“Rude.”

“You suuure?” The Collector turned upside down, and both humans couldn’t suppress the shudder, as his head twisted as well. “You sure seemed to want me when you called me your little ‘round boy…’”

Philip felt heat rise to his cheeks, going scarlet at the giggles that rose up by both children. He growled. “Listen, do you have information that can get this one home? Specifically to her time. She’s from the future and it doesn’t look like we can rely on time pools.”

“Hey whoa whoa, hang on a second, bub!” The Collector’s catlike eyes narrowed as his arms crossed over each other. “You can’t just pull my shadow out and start making demands. I’ve been in this stone for like, a gazillion-million years! You want something, you gotta give something!”

“Oh, uh…” Luz scratched her chin thoughtfully and nervously. She wasn’t sure what exchange she could make that a godling might enjoy, or what was even in the realm of possibility. “What do you want?”

“I mean what I want is to be OUT, but you probably can’t give me that…. If you can’t free me, at least let me stretch my legs. Errrrr, so to speak! I want to see things! I want to go places! I want to play games! I want toys!”

“Welllll….” Luz shrugged her shoulders as she gestured back to the market with a wayward smile. “We could take you to the market! There’s fun stalls, there’s bards playing tunes and reciting ballots! There’s definitely toys!” She jerked a thumb over to the still very chagrined man at their side. “And this one still needs to get some sort of healing for his leg.”

The Collector’s eyes drifted down to the linen wrapped firmly around Philip’s leg. The blood had aged into a rusty brown color and the bandage was already starting to smell. “Ew. Mortals are weird. If I was out of here I could get rid of that in a jiffy!” Granted, the child had never had a chance to make a mortal their test dummy, but how hard could it be? Immortals could pick themselves back up like a knocked down tower of blocks.

“Whatever,” Philip grumbled, just wanting to speed this along, and just wanting to get this girl out of his hair and not have her on his conscience. “So we have to take you to the market and entertain you until you’ve had your fill. That’s what you’re telling us?”

“Yeah something like that.”

“Ughhhh…” He needed to read the fine print on this kind of stuff…

Luckily the market had already forgotten about the suspicious duo, although Philip wasn’t confident that meant they’d be so inclined to ignore a floating, talking apparition of what looked like some baby jester. Then again, this was The Boiling Isles. He saw someone riding a giant worm with bucked teeth earlier. If anything, maybe this would make them appear more normal.

“Do many people know of The Collector?” Luz asked the floating child that had made themself comfortable on her shoulders. Somehow, she could feel a cool weight, and she faintly saw little pom poms in her mind as she reached for the godling’s tiny feet.

“If they got any sense they should,” The Collector scoffed and Luz just giggled. She walked with an exaggerated, jolly march—mostly to jostle the laughing shadow kid on her shoulders. Subconsciously, it was a bit of a coping mechanism she supposed…for the dearly missed, furrier little body that perched on her shoulders before.

“The Collector is a bit of an… interesting name,” Luz hummed, not wanting to offend the child. He didn’t seem to take any offense to it though and shrugged.

“Well it’s not really a name in the way mortals have—like a cool one like Luz, or a boring one like Philip…”

“You little-“

“It’s more like, names aren’t considered important I guess, for celestials. We exist only by the importance of what we do, so names aren’t really necessary, because…we don’t matter outside of our job.”

Luz frowned at the baby celestial, and even Philip seemed a bit perturbed by the detached…bleakness they seemed to view themself as. “…Names are important, and I think you’re important too,” she told him, squeezing their little leg meaningfully. Or, as much as she could anyway.

“Well…” The Collector’s voice dipped to something more melancholic. It was hard to tell just what emotion was on his face with such limited expressions a shadow could do…but Luz sensed a lot of different feelings as he spoke. “A long time ago, there was someone in my life that nicknamed me Eclipse, because of the pattern on my face. …Heh, or Clipsy. Clips.”

Luz grinned at him and dipped suddenly to the side to put him off balance and hopefully get a giggle or two. “Eclipse, Clips, or Clipsy it is! I’m happy to meet you!”

“Hehe, I’m gonna call you Luzzy!” he squeaked, trying to hug the girl around the neck. “Nah, that’s too simple… I’ll think of something else eventually!” He looked back at their least willing travel companion, and one that was slowing down. “So what nicknames can we call that one?”

“Oh I’ve got lots of nicknames for him but you’re too young to hear most of them.” She snickered at the joke that went over the celestial’s head and made Philip narrow his eyes in silent contemplation of finding the nearest river or chasm to toss her into.

“Speaking of him, man he’s really slowing us down,” Eclipse groaned as he watched Philip drag his injured leg along the gravel.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I can hear you!” Philip exclaimed, to which both children shrugged in indifference.

He huffed at the disrespectful miscreants…but loathed as he was to admit it, this leg really was slowing him down. The pain was becoming unbearable. Luckily they were approaching the central part of town, where various tents were set up.

From there, the kids could spot one with a red canopy lined in tassels. Luz could make out rows of tables with different vials of various potions, oils, and baskets of medical herbs. There was a kind looking old demon there, that looked like some sort of reptilian—orange and wrinkly with horns that reminded Luz of a triceratops.

“Philip, I think that’s a healer.” Luz rolled her eyes in annoyance when the older human made some derisive lip curl.

“Are you kidding me? You have been…” She looked up at Eclipse and held her hands suddenly where she thought the kid’s ears might be. “Bitching like non stop about how much pain your leg is in, and frankly it’s driving me up the wall. Who knows what kind of journey is still ahead of us! And think of it this way,” she continued when he seemed unsatisfied. “Sooner we can figure out how to get this mess sorted out, the sooner you and I can part ways.”

He liked the sound of that. “Fine, I will go to a healer. This one time!” he growled. “After that we do whatever it takes for the stupid cosmic child to give us a clue on how to get you home.”

Luz gave a loud exaggerated gasp. “Don’t you talk to him like that! He is BABY!”

“Yeah! I’m baby!”

Philip rolled his eyes and trudged angrily along up the path. When they reached the healer’s tent, the rude man didn’t even ask or even acknowledge a greeting by the witch as he flopped heavily into a chair. “You, fix this leg. Now.”

Luz was going to beat this man to death with her shoe. “I’m really sorry about him, Miss. I’ve been doing my best to teach him some manners, but feral cats are hard to tame.”

Philip felt his complexion darken, especially when their resident shadow child let off a bubbly laugh at the joke. He crossed his arms and attempted not to flinch when he felt pulses of magic hit his skin. It targeted the cut and he ground his teeth together, averting his gaze from the procedure. The magic weaved in through the cut and began to mend the skin together. He shuddered, but Luz of course was just dazzled.

“I’ve always loved healing magic. It’s impossible to choose my favorite form of magic because I just love it all so much, but healing magic is so cool,” she perked. “I’m not the best though…”

The old woman smiled at her and then scrutinized Philip carefully. “Don’t I know you?”

Oh no. He could feel the sweat starting to pour. “N-no…”

“You look like one of Varuka’s bo-“

“Wehavetogo!” Philip jumped up so fast he jostled the table and knocked over two potions. One hand snatched a startled Luz by the forearm, and clutched Eclipse’s obal in the other arm. He tossed several snails onto the table, hard enough the coins bounced. Last thing they needed was to be chased for stealing.

“Wh-Philip!” Luz could barely keep up with the man. That was ironic given his speed only a few minutes ago. She stared back as the healer’s tent disappeared from her field of vision as Philip yanked them further into the crowd. “What’s going on?”

“N-nothing!” he quickly lied, and babbled on in hopes of catching the other child’s attention. “Collector! You said you wanted to do…things in the market? Well choose something.” He crossed his arms, and his leather boot was anxiously tapping against the ground as he scanned to make sure the woman wasn’t following. She wasn't.

“Toys!” Eclipse declared as he pointed over to a tent with some hand sewn dolls and other needle pointed work and cushions. There was even some beautiful embroidered canvases, like the type Luz’s mother had brought home from a craft fair once. Luz felt her heart ache and tried to push the thoughts away.

“If we get you a toy will that be enough to satisfy you?” Philip demanded flatly. He was still checking carefully to make sure that witch hadn’t followed. If she did come to the conclusion he was ‘one of Varuka’s boys’ then surely she’d tip her off. If Varuka was still alive.

“Yo, white boy!”

“What?” He was snapped out of panicked musing by Luz and Eclipse. They were both looking at him with a mix of confusion and impatience. “Oh right, the toy.” Philip sighed as he marched up to the tent. He felt vaguely like a parent on a shopping trip with his hyperactive kids.

Eclipse and Luz excitedly scanned the shelves of lovingly crafted dolls and plushes.There were so many to choose from, but Luz and Philip saw the kid seemed the most intrigued with an adorable little marionette.

Its limbs were carved from wood and its body a sewn together burlap sack of beans. Of course nothing was normal on The Boiling Isles and the creature’s face had three eyes and multiple legs.

“I love it,” he whispered, in a choked voice that could barely contain his glee.

“It’s the most expensive one there!” Philip exclaimed with frustration. He scowled over at Luz, when he noted the teenaged girl had her gaze fixed on a little owl on the opposite side of the shelf. It was made of canvas and painted in cinnamon brown acrylics. Philip narrowed his eyes. It made him think of Evelyn. Luz clearly was feeling differently about the little toy.

“I want it…” she sighed wistfully, stroking a hand over the painted details. She reached into her pockets to try and extract some pocket snails, but after upturning them and only finding parchments of paper and lint, she sighed. …And she looked up at him, with the widest and shiniest eyes she could manage. He cut her down just as quickly.

“No.”

“But it’s a little owl!”

“We’re out here to get things for The Collector so they will give us information for you,” he reminded the girl, who was tracing casual patterns along the painted features with her fingernail. “So no.”

“I guess,” Luz sighed as she picked up the little toy with a saddened gaze. “It’s just, it’d be nice to have something to cry into at night that reminds me of who I’m so far from.”

She gazed over her shoulder, catching the way Philip stiffened and she suppressed a smirk. She didn’t need to do any acting in this case, because she did miss home more than anything. …It felt nice to jab a bit of emotional manipulation of her own in there though.

“You know…” Luz continued. “…When you kept me from returning home. ...Kept a poor child away from her fam-“

“I’ll take the stupid owl,” Philip growled to the merchant and slammed down several more snails. He would have just stolen the toys were it not for the fact he was trying to keep the attention away from them all as much as possible.

The Collector seemed to have caught his sights on the next thing that had his interest. Philip could smell a sickeningly saccharine scent of the multiple confectionary goods from here.

“I want a poison apple!” Eclipse must have sensed the rage of a thousand suns burning, because he quickly amended, “While we eat them I can tell you guys about something that might be able to get Luz home!”

Philip tightly ground his teeth together, but he relented. He felt Luz’s brown eyes looking up at him even before he turned his head. “I just bought you a toy!”

Philip always found the food this world offered at best, bizarre, and at worst, absolutely disgusting and cursed. Poison candy apples were no exception with the way the candy taffy melted a black skull pattern down the fruit. The children seemed to enjoy them though.

“I can’t really eat this,” Eclipse pouted.

“So I wasted my money buying a shadow a candy apple,” the man deadpanned. “And a girl one, who already guilted me into buying her a toy.”

“I’m gonna call you Bean Owlbert,” Luz told the little painted sack of beans as she hugged it close.

“Well it’s fun to look at,” Eclipse hummed as he admired the bizarre confection from different angles. “…Alright, so I guess my information tank is charged good enough.”

“That is so not a thing,” Philip deadpanned, but Luz leaned forward on the red bench she sat on, in anticipation.

“Time pools are like…tricky business.” The entity tapped his chin. “Magic, uh, amonalies!”

“Anomalies.”

“Whatever!” the child scoffed out. “From what I know of them, they can be formed when titan blood mixes with the magic algae of The Boiling Sea, but….you already know that part. It’s not a guarantee though, even if you got a hold of some blood. It could work, but it’s not always gonna create the pools. Kinda liiike…I don’t know, spike eyed shells! Some of them have magic slugs, and some of them don’t.”

Luz stared blankly at the child, while Philip haughtily rolled his eyes. “Think of oysters and pearls. Some will have them, some won’t, Luz. Basically we can try to replicate the effect with these ingredients but it won’t always happen based on chance.”

“Right, and then even if it does, like…how many years are there now that time has existed?” Eclipse laughed. Luz meanwhile felt her stomach sinking more, a heavy block of lead settling in. “The odds of finding even the same decade is super slim. And trying to find the exact moment? It’s impossible. I wouldn’t go for time pools.”

They sensed the despondency from Luz, and watched the way her eyes blinked in horror. “But! There might be another way!” he quickly assured, attempting to comfort his new friend as his shadow settled within her lap. “It’s a bit harder and with more risk. There is this object of incredible power known as the celestial scissors. Celestial scissors have the ability to just snip through ‘the fabric of any dimension!’” He shrugged. “At least that’s what my…siblings told me.”

Luz and Philip both looked at each other, exchanging skepticism. Something of that caliber sounded almost impossible to obtain.

“Long ago the archivists created this place that existed as like, a channel between the stars and the demon realm. And it’s where they’d store their most valuable things they’d collected from all the realms, especially here. It’s where they’d store all the beasts they’d collected into scrolls, and where they’d hide their most important stuff basically.

As you can imagine, it’s hard to get to,” the child continued casually. “The door to the channel opens once a year, on the Starlight Conjunction. The anniversary of the gods coming to be, or something like that. The anniversary is not for another three months.”

Luz felt all of her hopes torn asunder in that moment as she shook her head. She was grateful for the red bench she was perched on, because she would have fallen otherwise. “No, no, no, I can’t be here for three months!”

Philip gawked. “Surely there’s another way to get her home.”

“Construct a door,” Eclipse shrugged. “Try your luck with time pools. I…don’t know! I mean if I was out there I could probably portal her in an instant, but I’m NOT!” they huffed. “Not even sure about the scissors myself because I’ve never seen them, but my stupid siblings used to bully and scare me and tell me if I didn’t listen to them they’d cut me to ribbons with the scissors! Cut me ‘out of the fabric of existence!’”

“You’ve never seen them?” Luz asked weakly. “So for all we know, we might be chasing a myth….”

Philip looked down at the child and gave a small shrug. “A myth is…better than nothing,” he offered softly. “In the meantime while we wait for this celestial…whatever, surely we can keep searching for other means to get you home.”

All Luz could do was nod, in a quiet state of numbness. “Right…”

The Collector tried to elicit a smile from Luz by hugging her, but he wasn’t even sure if the girl would feel it. Hopefully at least, she’d get the comfort from it. “Hey, the…longer you’re here…the more time we have to play!” he offered cheerfully. “I want to play with that giant spider over there that’s looking at us! Ehehe, it looks like it wants to play!”

Philip felt the blood freeze in his veins. “A spider?” Every instinct told him not to turn around, but he still did, and he was certainly the next one on the verge of fainting.

There she was— her wide bulbous eyes, her horns perking upwards, the few chocolate brown spots on her bristled and furry thorax. Her eight legs were sprung forward, prepared to pounce. In excitement or anger, he wasn’t sure.

”Philip?”

Fuck this. “I think that’s enough market for the day!” Philip’s hand roughly seized Luz by the arm. The poor child, not even having gathered the strength in her jelly legs, was all but dragged across the grass until she managed to regain her footing.

“Ow! Philip, what the hell?!” Luz growled as she pulled at her arm, but he had it in a vice grip. Eclipse couldn’t do much, bound to his stone.

“I’ve gotten my leg fixed up, you bloody insects have rinsed my pockets dry, and I’m…severely arachnophobic, now let’s go!” he snarled, but it came out almost as a plea.

“Ow, dude!” Luz growled as she yanked away from him, but had little choice but to chase after him. The spider, she noted quickly, was following. It didn’t seem predatory however. Luz had many encounters with Boiling Isles spiders after all. “Philip, I don’t think it wants to hurt us.”

He wasn’t sure where he was running—Philip just knew he needed to run. It wound up being on the opposite end of town, far from where they’d parked Pancake, and unfortunately not far enough for Luz and that blasted spider to catch up.

She offered a palm to the spider as it skittered up to her feet, and the creature gratefully climbed up into the offered hand. She chittered and trilled, and Luz didn’t miss the way Philip was gripping at his temples, as if in pain. “Dude, what is the matter with you?”

The spider trilled and tried to catch Philip’s attention, skittering along Luz’s hoodie in distress. She tried to soothe the creature with pets.

“Go away…” Philip grunted. He was turned to a tree now, and gripping onto the bark.

“Philip it’s just a spider, and she seems really sweet!” Luz exclaimed incredulously. He couldn’t really be this frightened of spiders, could he? Surely there were much more terrifying things in this world that made simple spiders seem like a juvenile threat.

“Hey, it’s got a thingy,” Eclipse piped up as he floated around her, and the spider. “On its belly.”

Luz tilted the creature slightly and her eyes widened in realization. The spider had an interlock. “This is a palisman… Philip, what’s going on?” she demanded.

“Go away!” Philip continued to shout as his nails gripped into the bark of the tree. “I-I’m not talking to you! Leave me be, you parasitic insect!”

“Talking? But you can’t just talk to any palis….” She trailed off as the realization hit her. Luz looked at the squeaking spider and made the connection instantly. “This is your palisman…”

(And we meet The Collector! I’m never sure how to write his interactions with the world because on the one hand we’ve seen they’re trapped in the stone and see through to the outside like a mirror, but also their apparition can like interact with the physical world it seems, as there was even a scene where he laid across those statues in Hollow Mind and the fabric responded to the weight since it sagged…so I’m pretty much winging the physics with him! I imagine he can be like sensed and maybe you get like a glimpse of his appearance as a vision in your mind? And they’re like a ghost? idk!

The next chapter will probably be up very very soon- possibly even tomorrow, because it was supposed to be part of this one but it got too long (like all in total I think it’d be 25 pages) so I had to split it up lol So it’s mostly written already!

Also just a quick note that although this is after Elsewhere and Elsewhen it doesn’t directly follow canon! this is kind of a mix of au and canon, like Caleb being alive. The next chapter is one of my favorites. Thank you all for your kind words and also if someone could teach me how to input images into here I’d appreciate it because I draw a lot for this au and I’d love to make it seem like a graphic novel lol

Chapter 4 - Heartfelt Calligraphy - Philip and Luz need to kill time when it rains

Chapter 5 - Ultimatum - Philip’s bravery is put to the test when he needs to make a hard decision)

#toh fanfic #the owl house fanfic #philip wittebane #luz noceda #the collector #toh #the owl house #finally the next chapter is done and the new one will be very soon

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