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twimbs · 2 years

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Some Angst Headcanon-Fueled Writing

“Do you like it here, Philip?” Caleb asked, looking at the cloud filled sky in awe as a strange beast flew by. After receiving no response, he turned to look at his younger brother. Philip sat on the other end of the log, hunched over and muttering to himself as he drew in the dirt with a stick. “Philip? Philip!”

“Ah!” Philip yelled as he jumped, turning to face Caleb with a glare that disappeared a few moments later. “What?”

Caleb snickered at his nerd of a brother - always so deep in some sort of work.

“Do you like it here?” He repeated.

“No.” Philip stated, turning back to his drawing. “It’s hot. Everything boils. It’s hideous and, above all, it’s weird. As horrendous as a night terror.”

“I think it has charm,” Caleb smirked at the horrified look Philip gave him. “Look around, Philip. Everything is new. There’s so much to see here. There’s so much to experience.”

“It’s disgusting.” Caleb laughed, assuming his brother was joking. Philip’s cheeks turned a shade of red at the laugh. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious. I want to go home.”

“What if we stayed?” Caleb asked. Philip turned to him, stunned as his brother stared at the sun as it reflected off of the distant ocean. “It really is beautiful. We could learn magic together.”

“Learn magic?” Philip hissed. “I can’t believe you. We’re witch hunters, Caleb. We don’t belong here.”

“...Maybe I’m not like you. Maybe we want different things.” Caleb mumbled.

“What different things are so important that you’d abandon your home?” Philip stood, gripping his drawing stick tightly.

“I think the magic here is wonderful. I think the people are wonderful. We could learn a lot - we could adventure together.” Caleb suggested.

“They’re witches. Monsters. They aren’t people.” Philip corrected.

Caleb thought for a moment before responding, knowing this conversation would most likely lead to a fight. “Mother was a witch.”

“Mother was insane!” Philip yelled. “A madwoman filled with mad ideas who spouted mad ramblings to us all!”

“But now we know she was right, Philip. This place exists. Magic exists. How mad was she, if there’s a chance she came from here?”

“For Christ’s sake, Caleb, the woman laughed as she burned to death. That is not the mind of someone who’s stable.” Philip stubbornly crossed his arms.

“Well, I think I’d go mad if no one believed me, if I were killed because of the place I came from.” Caleb half-joked, laughing softly.

“She deserved it. She was a vile woman, all the things she did.” Philip turned to glare at the sun as Caleb stood as well, fists clenched.

“Don’t say that about her. She had her quirks - but she wasn’t a monster.” Caleb growled.

“Grow up, Caleb. We belong home, in our town. We belong in a witch hunting squadron. We don’t live in some fantasy where we can frolic about and dream of magic. What would father think?” Philip asked, noting the way his brother’s lips curled at the mention of the man.

“Father,” Caleb began through gritted teeth. “Was far more deranged than mother ever was. Good Lord, Philip, don’t tell me you can’t see that.”

“He was driven. He was a righteous man-”

“Stop!” Caleb interrupted his brother. “Stop believing all of his lies! Everything he burned into us! He was goddamned out of his head!”

“He was more in his head than any of us-” Philip began, before Caleb stormed towards him. Caleb grabbed a fistful of his brother’s shirt - ignoring his protests as he yanked it up, pulling it out of his belt-line and exposing a dark scar on his brother’s stomach, in the shape of a cross.

“Is that what a sane man does to his child, Philip?” Caleb demanded. There was still anger in his voice, though his tone was softer. “Is that what a righteous man does? Is this what you think shows strength?!”

“...He did what he had to.” Philip mumbled, looking away from his brother as his shirt was released.

“For goodness sake, Philip, in what world did he have to do this?” Caleb pressed.

“He helped me-”

“He branded you. I’m not the one who needs to grow up, Pip.” Caleb softly spoke. “You can’t even acknowledge when someone has hurt you. Don’t justify or defend his actions. He was just as deranged as mother.”

“Mother believed she was a witch. She was completely delusional. Harsh as he may have been, father was at least rational.”

“Father believed he spoke for God,” Caleb said, deadpan, staring at Philip almost blankly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And he forced those delusions onto us.”

“So did mother!” Philip yelled. “All of her ramblings of spells and witches - good heavens the bitch was insufferable!”

“Do not refer to her that way!” Caleb snapped.

“Why not?” Philip asked, exasperated. “It’s true. She was vile.”

“Do not desecrate her memory with such filthy language-”

“And I am the one who cannot realize when one of our parents was deranged?” Philip retorted, scoffing. “You will speak to me about father when you can acknowledge our mother was off the rails.”

“Why does this conversation always have to be a fight?” Caleb asked, sighing loudly.

“Why must you turn it into a fight, Caleb?” Philip retorted.

“Oh, because you’re the reasonable one in this situation…” Caleb muttered sarcastically.

“I’m not the one defending insanity!” Philip shouted.

“No, you’re the one that can’t see that you’re defending insanity. All of those books you read and you’re still dense as a rock, brother.” Philip’s face once again turned red at the insult.

“At least I can read!” He yelled.

“I can read! I just don’t waste my life doing it!” Caleb shouted back.

“You’re childish, deranged, as bad as mother!”

“And you are so brainwashed by father that you’ve become just like him!”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing!” Philip scoffed. Caleb was breathing heavily now, tears pricking his eyes. “Father was righteous and good-willed, I’m proud to be compared to him!”

“Then why did I kill him?!” Caleb screamed. As soon as he realized what he said, he gasped, covering his mouth. Philip stared at him in horror.

“Wh-What?” He forced out, his voice cracking.

“I… I’m sorry.” Caleb rushed out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- I didn’t want to tell you like this-”

“Caleb,” Philip whispered. “What did you do?”

“He was out of his mind, Pip! He was always hurting you! I just wanted to protect you.” Caleb took a step towards his brother, who took several back.

“He never hurt me, he was helping.” Philip swallowed, though his throat felt painfully dry.

“Good sake, Pip, this is why I killed him!” Caleb raised his voice, frustrated. “You’re still completely brainwashed! Even after years without him. I thought the only way to save you was to get rid of him!”

Philip continued to take steps back in disbelief as Caleb walked towards him.

“But it’s okay - because he’s gone now! And he can’t hurt us again-” Caleb tried to reason.

“Why- why would you-” Philip mumbled to himself.

“Philip, stop!” Caleb cried, right as Philip stepped back - right off the cliff edge.

He yelled, startled as he toppled backwards. Caleb grabbed his hand just before he fell, hauling him back onto solid ground. Philip collapsed, breathing heavily. After a few moments, he looked up at his brother with a look of confusion, betrayal and sadness.

“Why?” He asked. “How?”

“I… I bought poison from the doctor. I slipped it into his breakfast.” Caleb admitted.

“How long?” Philip asked. Caleb didn’t answer, looking away. “Caleb. How long?”

“He was dead in three days.”

The two sat in silence as Philip processed the information. Emotions flooded his brain, flashing before his eyes as his breathing quickened. All of the confusion and sadness was suddenly replaced by red hot rage. With a loud cry, he tackled Caleb, who yelled in surprise.

Caleb easily shoved the smaller male off of him, but Philip jumped right back onto him, landing any blow he could to Caleb’s face and torso as Caleb grabbed at his wrists in an attempt to stop him. The punches barely stung - Philip was quite small, after all. The brothers often fought like this, and each time, Philip ended up worse off than Caleb, even though the younger of the two usually started the conflicts.

They rolled around in the dirt, Philip yelling various insults while Caleb yelled for him to get a hold of himself. Finally managing to grab his wrists, Caleb pulled Philip over him and kicked him in the ribs - sending him flying over Caleb and into some brush.

As Philip took a minute to recover, a face suddenly filled his vision and he almost screamed.

“Hello,” a female said, looking over his frame. She had pointed ears, fiery red hair, and brilliant green eyes.

“Witch!” Philip hissed as he shot up, then immediately whined from pain in his head. A small bit of blood dripped down his forehead.

“Sora!” Caleb excitedly ran over as the witch - Sora - giggled.

“Were you two fighting again?”

“Yes.”

“No!”

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So I had some thoughts about the Wittebane parents and wrote this based on those headcanons. Their mother, Edith Wittebane, is descended from a witch - very very distant relative. She’s cunning and manipulative, and a true definition of what modern media presents witches as. Basically, a human witch. Their father, Samuel Wittebane, was a minister and preacher. He was incredibly devout to religion. So, when he finds out his wife is a witch, he doesn’t exactly handle it well.

I’m working on a thing about their backstory that explains all of this so stay tuned :>

#toh #the owl house #wittebanes #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #toh philip and caleb #toh headcanons #angst #writing #oneshot

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