Author's Notes:

I love the Owl House. As a fellow hispanic queer peep, this show has spoke to me a lot and has given me courage to not be ashamed on who I am.

I couldn't get this idea out of my head so had to start writing it out so I can stop it from invading my mind.

This story is of Philip's redemption journey after the second season. Now he's back in the human world, constantly in his cursed form, filled with hatred and disappointment for failing on his plans.

Warnings, Philip has racist views, but he will be basically slapped out of that by some great characters like our lovely Camila and others. Of course... Philip won't be budging any time soon.

Note: The first chapter will be short.

He felt like he was in a daze of darkness for so long…

He felt utterly exhausted and weak.

There were instances when Philip had some awareness and his instincts had taken actions to keep him safe and alive.

He wasn't sure how long it had been since his failed attempt to destroy the Boiling Isles and its wicked inhabitants. But he was certain days have passed since his return to his home.

Home…

Even though the walls were falling apart, old newspaper and garbage scattered across the cracked stained wooden floors, he could tell it was his home. The one he hadn't seen in many centuries. The very one that he was born in and grew up with his… brother…

He had imagined now that he was back home, he would have felt something reminiscent of joy or sadness, but instead he felt empty…

Completely empty…

His glowing blue eyes continued to stare at the living room, barely lighted up thanks to the moon, for a few more minutes before turning to the worn-out couch, then to the darkened chimney, then to the stairs across from him.

All he saw were fragments of a past long forgotten.

He tried to stand up but collapsed instead.

Slowly, he raised his right hand up and was met with a long, thin, brown limb with very long fingers. He raised his left arm that looked the same except it was mostly green.

He looked down on himself, long sickly framed, green, and brown, sludgy looking.

His hands went to his face and instantly could feel exposed teeth, confirming his suspicion that he was in his cursed form. Well, half the usual size, which explains why he didn't take so much space in the living room.

He tried to swear under his breath, but instead a growl made its way from his mouth.

If he could, he would frown at the sound he just made. Unfortunately, the current state of his mouth could not do any sort of human expression.

He tried speaking again, and again, and only the sounds grunts and growls kept coming out.

Panic began to eat him up, but he took slow, deep breaths to calm his nerves.

He mentally told himself he was going to be okay. There was no way his body was going to be stuck in this hideous form, unable to talk properly. He reminded himself he was still recovering from the Collector's attack.

Then again, how was he recovering?

Earth had no magic.

Maybe the countless palisman's magic that he had absorbed was still playing a role in him.

Magic…

His mind went back to the Boiling Isles.

Oh, he was honestly enraged at what happened to his plans to destroy the wicked island and its people. For Christ's sake, he had lived for centuries and worked too long for everything to had fallen apart.

Years of suffering and sacrifices to protect humanity, and he had failed…

And all thanks to a human girl.

A human girl that was bewitched by those foul creatures just like his brother…

Well… if the Collector was back, maybe the witches and demons of the Boiling Isles were long gone, but… with the Collector free… there was a bigger threat for Earth now.

He could hope the Collector would never come to Earth, but he had a feeling it was of no use. The Collector would grow bored playing with what is left with the Boiling Isles and one day come to Earth and create havoc.

If only he had simply taken more severe actions against Luz and her friends. He should have gone out to the owl house and killed Luz and that blasted witch of hers himself. He could have done it. He could have killed them easily in their sleep and no one would have known it was him.

Stupid… that was what he was… so stupid to have shrugged her off simply because she was human.

Yes, he wanted to help her get back home - after all, she was from Earth - but the mercy he gave her was his undoing. A huge mistake on his part.

He shook his head from the frustration that was gradually building up.

'Let's go eat dinner, Philip!'

An ancient memory flashed through his mind as he stared at the stairs. He could see a young boy with short blonde hair running downstairs.

No…

Something deep inside of him twisted painfully, which made him quickly turn to the door as his heart raced.

He had to get out of there now.

He yanked the door open so he could dash out of the house, but something struck his chest before wires latched around his limbs, crushing them against his body.

Suddenly he let out a screech of agony as countless bolts shocked through him.

"I got him!" someone yelled out as Philip struggled against his restraints, he felt he was burning alive.

He stumbled back before he felt the world turn sideways. His body hit the ground hard. The electric shocks from whatever was binding him stopped and left him panting heavily, and in pain.

"Hurry, before it's too late!" another voice called out, sounded feminine this time.

Philip did his best to stay conscious, but unfortunately, his weakened form did not last long before he was met with darkness again.

Author's After Notes:

So yeah, first chapter is short. The others will be longer, I promise.

Let me know what you guys think. I may add to the first chapter more, but brainstorming for now on how I'm tackling the rest of the story.

I also post this story in Archive Of Our Own