#bundles of cornflowers

[labrxnth]

BoC Chapter 1: Into Darkness (Leon x Reader Series)

In flower language, a cornflower means "Be careful with me, please, I'm delicate."

Tag List:

WC: 3310

CWs: some heinous forced father figure shit, human experimentation, PTSD, kidnapping, cannon level body horror, cannon level swearing and violence, body comparison.

AN: So, This monster is finally here now that Prison Break is done. I'm thinking of a schedule that I can accurately keep, maybe one chapter every two weeks. This series will span over all of Resident Evil, it's gonna be a big boy so strap in.

If you want to be on the tag list, comment and it'll be done.

Spotify Link: Listen along to the playlist I've curated for this fanfic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

The first thing you experienced about the apocalypse wasn’t the loud sirens, explosions, or screaming. It was how quiet it was. The usual fluorescent lights of the lab testing floor you were on were still burning as bright as ever, your eyes trailing the multitude of doctors and nurses scrambling through the hall, clipboards and keycards in hand. 

Your hand placed itself on the glass wall, confused as to why the doctors and scientists were acting more skittish than usual. The feeling you had in your stomach turning into a deeper pit. Anxiety swelling inside of you. 

Even without any of the chemicals dumped into you through the many syringes “gifted” to you, your intuition was off the charts. You knew something was wrong. 

Hearing the usual vroom of the door to your cell opening, your eyes turned to it, seeing the scientist usually in charge of you with a lead in hand. He stood in the doorway, his salt and pepper hair slicked back like it always was. His glasses were pristine, no scratches or dirt on them, his lab coat and scrubs eerily clean. 

“Subject 13, we’re moving you,” David said, his voice not leaving room for question. 

You nodded, walking up to him. David had been in charge of you since you got here at the ripe age of 10. A decade of being trapped in these four walls, not seeing the outside. 

The last time you were outside, the whole world felt like it was dripped in neon. The lights, the hair, the makeup, everything. All you wanted was a Barbie doll or a cabbage patch kid. Now, the world to you was white walls, white floors, and people wearing all white. 

David clasped the lead onto your thin collar, starting to walk the opposite end down the hallway that you were used to. You only ever walked to the left of your cell, not the right. Today you were going to the right, following all the other doctors and scientists. 

“Where are we going?” You asked quietly. 

“Hm?” David asked, not even bothering to look over you. 

You took a second, looking down at your feet while you walked. Taking a deep breath, you get ready to rephrase your sentence. “Father, where are you taking me?” You rephrased. 

He smiled back at you, his yellow cigarette smoke stained teeth being visible from behind his lips. “My flower, we’re relocating you.” He responded, then looked forward. 

Relocation….. 

You’ll get to see another part of the world. Maybe if you were lucky, you’d be able to see outside through windows. The idea thrilled you more than the fear of being sent to another location. But still, one thought loomed over you, the NEST had been your home for the past 10 years, why were they moving you now?

“Father, why?” You asked, watching people run by you. The hairs on the back of your neck were sticking up, matching the anxiety of everyone else besides David. 

“Because, My Flower, someone messed up on one of the upper floors,” He replied. His tone was always condescending, infantilizing you, talking down to you. He acted like you were still 10 like when he “found you”. 

“Messed up?” You asked. He never told you about stuff happening on the upper floors, you were hoping that he’d be willing to go into deeper detail if he was already in a talking mood. 

“Birkin…. messed with something that he shouldn’t have,” He responded and left it at that. 

Birkin…. That had to be a person by the way he was talking. You had searched your memory, trying to figure out if you ever came into contact, but couldn’t remember anything. 

As the two of you walked through a set of double doors, the hallway changed from white to a blaring red. An alarm was going off, along with the emergency lights, making the hallway a sensory nightmare. 

You squeezed your eyes closed, attempting to quell the migraine you were starting to get from everything. 

After going through another set of double doors, you felt yourself rising from the ground. Opening them in a panic, you noticed you were in an elevator, making your way to the surface. How long had it been since you were in an elevator last? It had to have been at the mall, while you were waiting impatiently to get to Orange Julius. 

The mall that had just opened up down the road from where you lived. The same mall where a strange man in a suit came up to you and asked you where your parents were.

The same one where you were taken from, never to see the outside world again. 

“Where will we go?” You asked, your (e/c) eyes meeting his face. 

“Where we go,” David replied dryly. 

You nodded, discontent with the answer, but pushing your feelings aside like you had been trained to do. If you dug too far, it would only spell more pain and suffering for you; curiosity was not a trait celebrated by Umbrella Corp. 

He led you down another hallway, the lead tugging at your neck, an uncomfortable feeling, making you seem like a dog. Your place was a lab rat, property owned by Umbrella Corp. You were truly David’s bitch through and through. Something he held over you. 

After a mind numbing walk through more hallways than you could count, you felt the cold air prick your face. Your nose breathed in the fresh air for the first time in a decade, tears almost welling in your eyes at the nostalgic feeling of it. It was crisp, but warm at the same time. Smelling like nothing, but everything all at once. Where the air smelled like cleaner and chemicals in your cell, the air here smelled of an electric charge, a storm on the horizon, and the calamity happening in the city. 

Looking around, you saw the city horizon line. There were more lights than when you were brought here, assuming you were looking at the same side of the building from before. You saw the misty haze sweeping over the city, the pine trees in the background surrounding the mountains in the faint distance. If you could see the roads, you would have seen the destruction breaking out around you. 

You would have seen the hell emerging from the depths of where you were kept. 

Looking forward, you saw a military grade helicopter, the same type they brought you here in. When you were first taken, you remembered every single detail you could with hope you could somehow make it out. 

Obviously, you were naïve. 

David ushered you into the helicopter, taking his seat in the pilot’s. Two U.S.S. (Umbrella Security Services) agents accompanied the two of you on the helicopter, guns drawn. One was pointed off the ramp, the other was pointed at you. At this point, you would have either been an idiot or had a death wish if you attempted to run. At this point you had the survivor mentality beaten out of you. 

Starting up the helicopter, David tied your lead to the bar separating the two of your seats. Your eyes were glued to the world outside, watching the rain hit the windows and windshields in awe. The world seemed darker since you saw it last, obviously because it was night time, but it felt grungier. Less like the neon wonderland you left and more like cigarette smoke and leather. 

As the helicopter flew above the city, the fires and crowds of people below were finally visible to you. The shock tore through your body at the sight. 

“The people… what’s happening to them?” You asked, your eyes following clusters of people attacking others. It looked like ants fighting from how high up you were, but you could still make out their shapes and sizes. 

“Birken’s atrocity. This is why I worked on more sophisticated projects like you, My Flower,” David replied, running a hand through your hair. An unfamiliar sound filled your ears, getting louder and louder by the second. 

David’s head whipped to the side. “Holy shit!” He yelled and jerked the steering sticks of the helicopter towards you. Your eyes widened as you saw a glimpse of something coming at the two of you, then the world went white again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

You woke up to a searing pain in your right arm. Eyes shooting open, all you saw around you were silent flames, engulfing the helicopter and licking up your right arm. You tried to lunged through the flames and get out of the helicopter, but a force pulled you back, the fucking collar and lead. Looking around the helicopter, you found a stray shard of glass and picked it up. Your hand instantly filled with a sanguine red, the glass cutting your hand from just holding it. Quickly and wasting no time, you sawed through the lead, gritting your teeth at the pain. 

David would surely forgive you for breaking your lead, it was life or death. Then again, he was a psychotic doctor that experimented on and tortured you for years. 

Once the lead went slack, breaking apart, you jumped through the flames, rolling on the floor of wherever you were to extinguish the flames on you. Catching your breath and feeling your heartbeat die down, you took a few seconds, waiting for David or a U.S.S. agent to pick you back up. 

When no one jolted you up to your feet, your eyes opened to find a dusty wooden floor beneath you. Pushing off of your arms, you looked around you and saw a hallway of some sort, a rather plain one, but not the white ones you were used to seeing by now. 

You stood up and looked toward the helicopter, seeing three bodies in there, engulfed in the flames. David and the two U.S.S. agents. 

You were…. Free. 

Free… 

David was dead. 

Your mind kept going over these words in your mind before you decided it would be better to move than stay still. While David had beaten the survivor out of you, you weren’t an idiot. 

The helicopter was cutting the hallway in half, giving you only one choice to go: behind you. You turned around and looked down the daunting hallway, feeling like it would’ve been better if you perished in the crash with everyone else. Nonetheless, you pushed forward into the darkness, your eyes adjusting to the darkness and your ears adjusting to the quiet. 

Walking down the hallway, you found the first door, a wooden door directly in front of you. On the wall, there was a sign that stuck out from it saying “Waiting Room”. As you walked closer, you found yourself having to limp, your ankle feeling less than ideal for walking a great distance. Your hand pressed up to the door, feeling the indents on the real wood. Every texture you had dealt with since you were taken was either slick, cold, slimy, or all of the above. 

It felt nice to feel something homemade, something that felt real. You cautiously pushed the door open and a sudden warmth filled the hallway. The room had multiple lights on, the type that you weren’t used to anymore. Instead of the fluorescent lights that made you want to gouge your eyeballs out, they were small lamps with a warm, orange or yellow glow to them. 

Closing the door behind you, you tried to find anything that could tell you where you were. You had no clue the size of the building you crashed into or where exactly you were. 

Turning to your direct left, you found a bulletin board on the wall with multiple posters. All of them said Raccoon City as the location of what they were advertising, so it was safe to say you were still in the city. 

Looking around more, you were startled as you heard the door behind you open. It was quiet, but you still picked up on it, your ears flicking slightly at the sound. 

“Are you alive?” A rather young voice asked you. Your hands went up slightly in surrender and you turned around. 

When you looked at who was talking, your eyes lit up. The question he asked puzzled you, but seeing someone that looked around your age was a relief in its own right. 

His face was unlike any other face you had seen. Most faces from your childhood blurred together, the only faces you really remember being your own, David’s, and the other scientists that occasionally worked on you for David. This young man’s features were soft, his eyes blue and kind, with an emotion at the forefront. You had seen that emotion in your own eyes before. 

He was scared and trying to hide it. 

“You’re alive,” He responded. You knit your eyebrows in confusion and noticed the gun he was pointing at you. Confused, you nodded and watched him sigh in relief, then lower the gun. “You, me, and Marvin are the only ones here that aren’t infected,” He added, reholstering his gun. 

“Infected?” Your voice asked. 

The young man looked at you, his eyebrows knit together, confusion matching your own. His eyes looked up and down your outfit, the white hospital gown and scrub pants that you had worn for the last ten years catching his eye. 

“Yeah…. Where did you come from?” He asked and took a step towards you. 

Instinctively, you took a step back, his eyes immediately softening. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you okay? I’m a police officer, it’s my job to help people.” He said softly. 

You remembered your parents telling you to find a police officer if you ever needed help when you would go to the mall alone. The day you were taken, you tried to tell one that a man in a suit was following you.

You were laughed at. 

Sensing your apprehension, he took off one of his fingerless gloves and held his bare hand out to you. “My name’s Leon, Leon Kennedy. If you want to survive, I might be your best bet,” He said. 

You looked at the hand and hesitantly reached your own out to his. But your name, what name could you tell him? Subject 12 wasn’t your name, it was used to get rid of your humanity, taking away your ability to even have a name. 

A name, you used to have a name, but what was it? Digging deep into your memories, you tried to remember it; tried to remember a friend saying it in joy, tried to remember a parent saying it in love, a teacher in anger. 

Nothing. 

Leon looked at you expectantly, trying to read your expression. Your eyes met his as your hand met his in a shake. All you could remember for a name was the sound of rock playing through your dad’s radio, him praising a female singer for her melodies and guitar playing skills. 

“Joan, my name is Joan,” You said, claiming the name as your own. 

“Nice to meet you Joan, got a gun?” Leon asked. He looked down at your hands and you guessed that you had held on for way too long judging by the look on his face. You let go and awkwardly smiled at him. 

“A gun? No,” You replied, your head tilting to the side slightly. “Why would I need a gun?” You asked. 

“Why would you need a gun?” Leon echoed your question, looking at you incredulously. His eyes then went down to the burn mark on your right arm and the cut through the palm of your same hand.  “Where did you come from, you haven’t been here?” He asked. 

You shook your head slightly, proving his theory correct. “I was in a helicopter, then everything went white and I woke up surrounded by flames in this building,”

His eyes widened. “You were in that helicopter? The one that crashed into the building?” He asked, his eyes almost bugging out of his head. You nodded in response and he dug through his hip pouches, producing a small box with a red cross on it. 

“Here, let me patch you up, take a seat,” He said and gestured to one of the benches. You limped over, his eyes catching which ankle you weren’t letting touch the floor and taking a mental note of it. 

Sitting down on the bench, you looked at the palm of your hand seeing just how deep the glass had cut you. Leon kneeled down in front of you and looked up into your eyes, then back down at the collar you had on. 

“I don’t mean to pry…” He trailed off. You stared at him, expecting him to ask a question, but he just shrugged and shook his head, saying something to himself that a normal person wouldn’t be able to hear, but you could. “Isn’t the weirdest fucking thing I’ve seen today,” He said to himself. 

You watched him take bandages and a small spray can out of the case. “Can I have your hand?” He asked. You gave up your hand, palm side up. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, his eyes darting to your face for any sign of discomfort, but finding none. 

“This will hurt a bit,” He said and shook the small can. As the spray hit your cut, a slight hiss left your mouth. “Sorry,” He said, his eyebrows knit in focus and sympathy. Leon was quick to wrap the hand in bandages and then wrap the burn loosely.   

His hand dropped your wrist and he gestured to your ankle. “Can I help that too?” He asked. You nodded and he took your ankle, resting it on his knee. Almost as quick as when he wrapped your hand, your ankle was wrapped and all set to go. 

“It looks sprained. If we were in a better situation, I’d tell you to stay off of it, but we’re not,” He said and looked up at you.

“Thank you,” You said and lightly smiled at him. Looking down at him, you got a feeling that you haven’t had in awhile. 

You felt like he could be trusted; instead of the churning sea that your stomach usually was, it was calm. A slight warmth spreading through your chest at his smile.

“We should head out, I have this puzzle that I need to solve for us to get out of here,” He said, fishing a small booklet out of his pouches and putting the box back in. 

Looking at him, you could tell that he’d been here for at least longer than you had. He might be useful to stick around; especially if he had weapons and you didn’t. 

“Sounds good,” You said and stood up, getting used to the new weight on your ankle. 

“Before we go…. I gotta ask,” He said, leading into a question that you didn’t really want to answer right now. 

“No you don’t,” You replied and steadied yourself, looking up to meet his gaze. 

“Okay, I guess I don’t,” He said, his head moving to the door he came out of. “Alright, let’s get moving,” He added. 

You followed him through the door, into the unknown. Maybe on the other side of the door, there would be a fully fledged freedom; the world that you were kept from. 

To you, you were free of the white walls, white floors, damnation you were sentenced to. Now, you were headed into hell on Earth that you were completely unaware of. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic and others on my AO3

[syoddeye]

wip wednesday

here’s a snippet from a price x reader oneshot. the gist: price and reader broke up months ago, but she's forced to call him up for a favor. unfortunately, he catches sight of what she's packing for a trip. unedited, 200 words. banner by @/cafekitsune.

~~

“John.” You warn.

He reaches around you anyway. The tussle is short, a stupid effort on your part. Despite your pushing and shoving, you end up on your stomach beside your suitcase, wrists gathered, pinned, and pushed into your lower back. His hold is firm, and the worst part is that you know, you trust, he’d let go if that’s what you really wanted. If you spat out the words.

But he flips the lid open and clicks his tongue. The sound shoots straight between your legs.

John roots around the packed clothes, making a few smart comments here and there, recalling where and when he’s seen you in them. Sneers at a skirt he deems too short and a front-tying blouse too convenient. His hands squeeze your wrists after unzipping the underwear compartment. “Don’t recall these.”

Cheek pressed to the bed, you watch him pluck a bundle of cornflower blue mesh out to let it unfurl into a poor excuse of underwear. Curiosity and contempt war in his matching eyes.

No, he wouldn’t recognize them. It was admittedly a dramatic gesture, but you discarded most of your lingerie upon returning home from your sister’s that fateful night. Almost all the sets he purchased.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 4: (Original Spinet Theme)

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me lol).

Chapter 1 here.

Chapter 2 here.

Chapter 3 here.

Commission cover art here.

Cover art poll here.

Chapter titles here.

Chapter 4 snippet here.

Thank you, @talisman975, for reading the parts of the chapter that I shared with you, as well as sharing your thoughts.

Tagging: @pokeycub

Enjoy ! <3

Heavy rainfall pelted down from the darkened skies on a Sunday in the Connecticut town of Gravesfield as a husband and wife were inside their home, enjoying each other's company, their love untouched by the storm brewing outside.

"Hello, little gentleman," Cadman said in a gentle tone, greeting and accepting the little blonde bundle that his wife placed in his arms.

"Look at that little face of yours," the brunette man commented with a chuckle, brushing aside the tiny, developing lock of hair growing above his son's forehead.

"You're already maturing into a handsome young man." Cadman soon pressed a kiss on Caleb's brow.

Even though Caleb was a bit of a handful, he was still a welcomed addition to the Wittebane family.

Cadman was content with holding and singing small songs to Caleb when he wasn't too exhausted, even if Caleb sometimes fussed.

After a significant amount of trial and error, the father found that carving small gifts or taking his son outside to observe the cardinals perched on tree branches were the most effective methods of soothing him.

Patience, who was about to give birth to another child in eight months, smiled at the two and kissed both of their cheeks before gazing down at Caleb.

"You're going to have a little brother to love, play with, and take care of when you're older, Caleb. Isn't that going to be so much fun?" the blonde mother asked.

Caleb gurgled excited baby noises at that news, causing both of his parents to laugh.

The blonde was already a very lively and cheerful boy at only 5 months old.

...

Small, dotted eyes that are cornflower blue slowly begin to open as Baby Philip witnesses the faces of his father and brother for the first time while being held gently by his mother as she sat up in bed, her back against her pillow.

As all three members of his family cast their warm, sunny smiles down on him, Philip reacts to the love he's receiving like a flower.

His small smile grows immensely as his little baby hands reach up without hurry to touch his parents and brother, which causes them to roar with hearty laughter.

A montage commences as the laughter in the room transitions to the start of this song.

...

As Kid Philip bolts into his shared bedroom, Caleb follows behind him at a slower speed, wielding a quill in his left hand.

The brunette proceeded to press his back against the wall behind his room door as he stood up straight, smiling fondly at his brother as he looked forward, sweet blue eyes gazing into warm brown ones.

Caleb, smiling back at his younger sibling, placed the pen horizontally above Philip's head, its tip facing the wall.

Moving the tip across the wall, the blonde creates a short, straight mark over Philip's head.

After Philip steps away from the wall, Caleb begins to record both his brother's height and age on it, with his height being written on the left side of the mark while his age is written on the right.

4. 5 feet - five-years-old

…

The early summer sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky, casting warmth across the atmosphere as Caleb cheerfully assisted his mother in churning butter on their farm, her hands over his as they cranked away at the churner.

Chirp-chirp-chee!

As Caleb gazes at the trees on the other side of the farm, believing that's where the chirps came from, the short, soft trills continue as a bird with vibrant red plumage flutters down and finds a comfortable spot to perch on.

Chrip!

Looking to his collarbone, Caleb spots a small male cardinal on his shoulder as he beams, brown eyes filled with excitement and wonder at the northern bird.

Patience gave a small, sweet laugh at her son's excitement, smiling fondly at both him and the cute little cardinal that he had.

She moves her hand over to gently pat the bird's head with her finger, being careful not to mess up his smashing hairdo.

…

The churned butter is quickly incorporated into a combination of wet and dry ingredients to create a cake topped with strawberries for Philip's 6th birthday, which is quietly celebrated in secret among the family.

…

Philip and his father exited a shop on All Hallows' Eve as the full moon illuminated the dark night sky.

The new carving knife Cadman had purchased to carve pumpkins at home with his boys was put in his pocket.

The two then heard a chorus of slow, lifeless moans coming from behind them and stopped in their tracks.

Cadman and Philip felt danger approaching as they slowly turned around and saw dozens of undeceased "witches" who had emerged from the dead, clearly seeking vengeance for their unjustified killings.

They were lumbering forward toward, in their eyes, two living sacks of human flesh that they planned to bite and have join in on their revenge crusade.

With wide eyes and a pounding heart, Cadman's instincts to protect his child quickly kicked in as he grabbed Philip's hand and soon bolted away from the pale green fiends.

Seconds later, Philip charges back at the death-dealing savages with his wooden sword, ready to send them all back to Heck where they belong, only for Cadman to bolt back after him.

Hurriedly snatching his son back with his right arm, Cadman takes off out of town, carrying Philip under his arm to prevent him from fleeing again.

…

With his boots and farm attire on, Cadman was ready to harvest his November crops.

His wife pulled out his brown leather hat from behind her back, placed it on his head, and planted a gentle kiss above his brow.

…

Cadman started cutting his crop stalks at a faster pace with his sickle as dark clouds surrounded the sky, not paying close attention to the sharp metal blade of his tool.

While working, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and the agonizing scream he exclaimed pierced the air.

As he slowly raised the hand he used to clutch his stomach, he noticed a dark crimson stain on his hand and quickly went wide-eyed.

He had a horrific look on his face as lightning flashed across the sky.

It was clear to him that his accidental cut could lead to more serious complications if he didn't return home promptly and have his wife take care of it.

As he stood, he made an effort to move quickly, but his injury was causing him to stumble while hobbling.

…

The furious storm continued into the night as Patience rested back in her rocking chair, reading a Bible story to her boys as they both listened keenly, sitting criss-crossed on the rug.

An urgent and loud bang on the door startled the three as Patience set her husband's Bible down and went to answer it.

The shrill scream from their mother caught Philip and Caleb off guard as she quickly rushed past them.

She directed the two to remain where they were while she went to retrieve a dampened cloth.

Although the boys had no idea what was happening, the sound of their father moaning in pain made their fret visible on their faces.

…

The dark, dreary skies matched the sadness that was brewing in the air as an undertaker laid Cadman's body to rest.

Patience sobbed heavily into her hands, unable to watch her beloved being buried as she and her sons stood on the side.

During her crying, her boys begin to shed tears.

They both clutch the lower half of their mother's dress, tightly holding onto the fabric as she wraps her arms around them for comfort.

…

Patience found it difficult to adapt to widowhood and life as an independent mother, but it was something she had to endure.

She frequently blamed herself for the death of her husband.

However, the presence of her boys made things less dreadful for her.

Caleb and Philip consistently assisted Patience with household tasks and always knew how to make her smile.

…

When Patience fell ill to an unknown sickness, it was up to Caleb to take care of her since he was the oldest child, with Philip occasionally doing what he could to help.

With the house's finances becoming more scarce, Caleb struggled to bring down his mother's fever, only with a wet rag at his disposal as Patience became more and more ill with every passing day.

…

One day, when Philip arrived home with a sack of apples that Caleb had instructed him to buy, he heard a faint echo of crying.

The reverberation spread throughout the hallway.

When Philip neared the dining room, he saw his brother with his head down on the table, wailing almost grievingly.

As Caleb slowly raised his head, he saw Philip and felt the weight of everything weighing heavily on him.

He stood up and ran to hug his brother tightly.

Philip was able to quickly understand what had occurred based on Caleb's emotions and was unable to move.

When the sack fell from his grasp and hit the ground, apples tumbled onto the floor.

Caleb was embraced with the same level of tightness by Philip, who quietly cried in his brother's arms.

…

At least Cadman and Patience were now buried side by side, as both Philip and Caleb couldn't imagine the two being apart even in death.

…

The death of their parents made neither boy want to remain in the house, as it was not the same without Cadman and Patience present.

Not only did the atmosphere lack the love of their parents, but the house's structure was starting to break down as well.

They needed a new house to live in.

…

Before they set off on their search for a new home, Caleb went into the chicken coop and said goodbye to all the birds that came into contact with him while Philip went into the stables.

Approaching his favorite brown stallion, the two proceeded to have a heart-to-heart as Philip reached up and gently ran his hand through the horse's mane while the horse pushed his nose into his palm.

A hug was soon given by Philip as he wrapped one arm around the horse's neck.

…

While the two brothers were walking hand in hand through the woods, they came across a brown wooden cottage at the end of the woods.

The wood was slightly worn, and shutters were dangling from their hinges on the two front windows, as observed by both of them.

As Caleb contemplated whether or not he and Philip should enter the house, an enthusiastic Philip ran toward the cottage.

Surprised by the sudden action, Caleb followed after, catching up with his brother as they entered the house.

Based on its current weathered condition, the wooden house seemed to belong to no one.

Well, no one except for the Wittebanes now.

…

At night, Philip had trouble falling asleep in his shared room as he heard Caleb's muffled cries, the blonde quietly sobbing into his pillow.

Caleb's current state left Philip feeling sad and sympathetic, prompting him to turn his gaze to the ceiling, fold his hands, and silently pray for God to bring his brother joy again.

Subsequently, he thanks God for taking care of the souls of his parents while they are in heaven.

…

Caleb awakens Philip the next day with a smile and eagerly urges him to get out of bed.

He wants to mark his height on their wall.

4. 6 feet - eight-years-old

Philip's growth excites both him and his brother as they cheer.

Caleb lifts Philip up and spins him around with joy, while the brunette giggles in delight as the music and montage come to a satisfying end.

...

"It looks like you're getting taller and taller every day, Pip," Caleb remarked with a sunny smile as he finished cooking breakfast for his brother on the black cast iron skillet.

He used the remaining flour, eggs, milk, and sugar to make it.

"Mm-hm!" Philip happily hummed in agreement with Caleb while seated at the dining room table with a wooden plate in front of him.

"Someday, I may even grow taller than you, Caleb," the brunette claimed with a great deal of confidence as he casted a playful grin, and his eyes immediately lit up at the the pancake being slipped onto his plate.

The cake was lumpy, as Caleb's always were, but Philip still enjoyed them nonetheless.

The blonde began to chuckle as he walked over to the water bucket and placed the used skillet inside it.

Returning to the table with a small glass bottle of maple syrup from the cabinet, Caleb poured the remaining amount onto Philip's pancakes.

Upon seeing the sweet, golden syrup flowing down on his food, the youngest's lips started curling up.

However, he noticed two empty chairs at the table, which were the seats his parents could have been sitting in alongside him if they were still alive.

His head began to swell with memories of them making the mornings more lively as he sighed, gazing down at his lap.

Caleb quickly noticed his fading smile and stopped pouring.

Philip soon felt a comforting hand gently make contact with his shoulder and slowly looked up to see his brother shining a small, reassuring smile at him.

Philip attempted to generate a smile of his own to reciprocate but was unable to do so.

"What's wrong?" Caleb asked, setting the syrup bottle down and taking a seat next to Philip.

Philip was quiet.

"Is it about... them?"

Caleb was aware that the loss of both of their parents was a sensitive topic.

Philip nodded slowly.

"Yes, and also...," he softly said before pausing, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

"It's school," he admitted with a soft sniffle before continuing. "It's not the same without you, Caleb. Without you there, the other children don't seem to be fond of or interested in being around me."

The news he heard made the elder feel terrible as he looked at Philip's sad face.

Caleb's role as the household's breadwinner forced him to stop attending school and start working various jobs around town.

Working excessively made him feel fatigued, but it was for the benefit of Philip.

Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother.

"I see...," the blonde said solemnly as he sighed but then managed to smile again.

"Hey, Philip," he began, wiping away his brother's fallen tears with his thumb.

"When you get back from school, let's play some of our favorite games together. I might even make you a surprise when I get back from working."

"Really?!" Philip gasped loudly as he sniffled, his smile reappearing on his face. "You promise?"

"I do," Caleb pledged, keeping his tone soft, as he and Philip proceeded to link their pinkies together.

...

"Are you all packed and ready for school, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip while standing at the front door with him.

Philip responded to the question with an energetic head nod while wearing his brown neck satchel.

He patted the bag twice with his left hand to indicate that everything he needed was inside it.

Caleb then quirked a brow and smirked with playful suspicion as he continued.

"You didn't include any dead birds or live snakes in your satchel, did you?"

Philip gave a simple smile before shaking his head.

"Philip..."

"I didn't!"

Behind his back, the brunette concealed his crossed fingers.

"I promise!"

Caleb smiled at his trustworthy little brother before opening the door, not feeling the need to check his satchel. "Good!"

He proceeded to embrace Philip tightly with love.

"Have a good day at school then," he whispered. "We'll see each other later."

The brunette hugged his brother back. "Okay, Caleb."

He hoped their hug would last forever, but as with all good things, it had to come to an end.

Once it did, Philip began his journey to school and turned to wave at Caleb.

"Bye, Caleb!"

Upon returning the wave, Caleb smiled. "Bye, Pip!"

Following Philip's departure, Caleb closed the door and headed for the stairs, needing to prepare for the busy day he knew he was going to have.

Knock, knock!

"Oh?"

Caleb proceeded to return to the door and opened it once again, believing that Philip must have forgotten something and came back to retrieve it.

On the opposite side, an older, familiar figure stood, gently holding a hen against his body.

He exhibited a lengthy white beard, tattered brown overalls, no shoes, and a brown hat that covered his bald head.

"Good morning!" Mr. Kookman chirped in a crackly and friendly tone, raising a hand up to greet Caleb while still maintaining a firm hold on his wife, Henrietta.

Yes, his wife.

She was a wonderful hen.

Mr. Kookman was the local kook and a neighbor to Caleb and Philip.

He resided inside the woods.

The man would frequently visit their doorstep to request essentials, such as...

"Could I borrow some spare breeches?" he politely asked as Henrietta clucked.

"Henrietta said good morning as well," Mr. Kookman informed Caleb with a chuckle.

"... Uh..." The blonde shifted awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head, shining a nervous smile.

He aspired to be polite, but at the same time, he was unsure about what to say.

...

Jesus Christ and one of his disciples, a name who went by the title 'The Witch Hunter Emperor', were casually mandering through a market.

The Emperor wore a large cape with white, brown, and gold trim under his Puritan attire, representing strength, righteousness, and purity.

As the two observed the fresh fruits and vegetables on display, the ground began to make slight movements, which soon became violent.

Citizens and sellers began to flee as panicked screams filled the air.

The shaking suddenly stopped, resulting in the appearance of a massive green serpant with small demon wings emerging from the ground.

The snake's menacing gaze is directed at Jesus and the Emperor, and it suddenly lunges at them.

...

"... And after they defeated the serpant with the power of prayer, Gravesfield is saved thanks to Jesus and his disciple, The Witch Hunter Emperor!"

Philip's smile beamed with sinless pride as he stood before his entire class, displaying his childlike journal illustration of Jesus and The Witch Hunter Emperor being tossed in the air by the cheering citizens for defeating the serpent.

"..."

The brunette was expecting a more boisterous reaction from his classmates rather than blank stares.

"Philip, can you explain what any of that has to do with the Ten Commandments?" his teacher asked with a tired sigh while sitting at her desk.

"Uh..." As Philip's smile slowly faded, his cheeks and ears blushed pink, and he turned away from the teacher's gaze and looked at the floor.

His tired teacher signed once more. "Go take your seat."

Philip quickly looked up. "But--,"

His teacher's sharp, sour expression instructed him to refrain from speaking back and immediately take his seat, which he did.

Despite some of his peers still choosing to look at him, Philip attempted to pay attention as another student was called up to the front.

...

After the teacher rang her handheld bell, the class was dismissed as students started to leave and go to the door.

As Madison was beginning to walk out of the school door...

"Hello, Madison!" A cheerful Philip did not hesitate to greet his crush as he popped his head up from the bush that grew on the left side of the school entrance.

He was intentionally waiting for her to come out after him so that he could ask her a question.

"Eee!" Madison's surprise was palpable as she quickly turned her attention to the bush on her left.

The redhead with her hair in a bun bonnet saw Philip.

"Philip?" she asked as she blinked a few times, wondering what the brunette was doing in the bush.

Philip nodded. "May I smell your hair?" he requested kindly with a smile.

His brother instilled in him the importance of using good manners.

"Uh... sure?" Madison told him tentatively as she leaned the side of her face forward, allowing Philip to get a whiff of her hair, despite his question to do so being odd.

Once he did, his face instantly lit up. "Madison, your hair! It smells so pretty!"

"Oh!" The compliment caused a bit of blush to appear on her cheeks as she smiled. "Thank you, Phil--"

"Did you take a bath?" Philip gave a smile as he thought his question was a flattering remark.

However, Madison didn't take it that way.

She let out an offended gasp, giving Philip a glare as she started to walk away, clearly upset by his choice of words.

"W-Wait!" Philip stammered as he stretched out his hand, not wanting Madison to go.

The redhead came to a stop on her leather shoes and turned around.

"What?" she growled with flushed cheeks, attempting to suppress her tears.

Philip opened his satchel and reached inside, grabbing the dead bird and living snake that were inside.

"L-Look! I have presents for you!" he shyly squeaked out as he smiled a nervous smile.

Madison's eyes widened at the two animals in his hands as she admitted a terrified shriek and quickly took off.

"You're weird!" she shouted while running.

Hearing those words echo in his head, Philip felt his heart split in two.

"Oh...," he softly said as he felt his shoulders and head drop, slowly letting go of the bird and snake.

...

Caleb walked along the path in the woods that would lead him to town.

'Alright then, Caleb,' he began to tell himself in his mind, his tone commanding and determined. 'Your first duty when you arrive in town is to help Mr. Town Minister.'

Caleb acknowledges what he mentally instructed himself to do with a nod.

Caleb's arrival in town triggers a montage of him working at his various jobs.

...

With buckets of soapy water and soaked sponges, Caleb and Mr. Town Minister started to remove the vandalism that was written all over the meeting house by an unknown witch.

The minister scrunched his brows and grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed away the impertinent insults that were written about him.

Meanwhile, Caleb had to bite his tongue to avoid laughing at the sentence that said, 'Mr. Town Minister is a doo-doo head'.

It could have all been inside Caleb's head, but he swore he could hear someone cackling a witch-like cackle in the distance, but he couldn't see them.

...

After the vandalism was removed, Mr. Town Minister thanked Caleb and presented him with his payment, which consisted of a basket containing a small pouch of coins.

...

An image of Caleb's basket slides down the scene, transitioning it to the town bakery.

Inside, Mrs. Doughberry hands Caleb a brown sack filled with expired baked goods and orders him to take them behind her shop to bury them.

Once that task is completed, his payment, a small slice of mildly sweet vanilla cake, is added to his basket as the scene transitions to Mr. Bartlett's horse barn.

Opening the stable doors while holding a pitchfork and bucket, Caleb's nose is immediately hit with the foul stench of horse manure.

He scrunches up his nose and grimaces, staying close to the wide, barn doors.

Although he didn't want to go inside, he knew he had to in order to continue sustaining his brother and himself, so he slowly entered and closed the doors behind him.

After the stables were free of manure and smelled a lot better, Mr. Bartlett dropped a small pouch stuffed with coins into Caleb's basket.

...

Caleb is seen resting his back against a tall tree in the center of the woods, using a scrub to gently brush the feathers of a calm Henrietta as she sat on his lap as if sitting on an egg.

Each brush stroke results in her releasing a soft cluck as she settles more into Caleb.

After the final scrub, Caleb walks over to Mr. Kookman and hands his wife over to him.

He beams and spins her with joy, taking note of her well-brushed feathers.

Tucking Henrietta under his arm, Mr. Kookman begins to take Caleb's payment out of his pocket.

Pulling out his basket from behind his back, the blonde receives a half-bitten woolen sock as his neighbor gives him a genuine smile.

Caleb smiles awkwardly at him, choosing to remain polite while thanking Mr. Kookman as the montage ends.

...

"Oh, Philip!"

Caleb was cheerful and upbeat as he opened the cottage door and stepped inside, holding his basket filled with earnings from a day of hard work as he closed the door.

Silence persisted in the air as the elder didn't receive a response.

'Hmm, perhaps he hasn't arrived home yet?' Caleb pondered to himself as he headed toward the dining area.

As the blonde arrived in the room, he suddenly gasped as he froze at the entrance, staring at the dejected sight.

The air was still with silence and sorrow.

"Philip?" A concerned Caleb called out quietly to his brother as he hurried over to the table, taking a seat beside him.

He placed his basket down before placing a comforting hand on his back, rubbing the area with great gentleness.

"What's wrong?"

No answer.

"Did something happen at school?"

No reply from the brunette.

After another brief pause, Caleb chose to ask another question, this one more well-considered.

"Would you like to have a discussion about it once you're ready to talk?"

Philip didn't respond right away, but when he did, he replied with a small sigh and nodded his head, which was down on the table.

"Very well then, Pip," Caleb whispered, managing to shine a small smile down on his brother.

"Take your time. There's no rush. Do you recall the surprise I promised to make for you when I came home?"

"Yes?" A silent Philip finally spoke, his tone soft and tearful.

"Well, how about you watch me work on it. As it's being crafted, you can make guesses on what it is. How does that sound?"

As Philip slowly looked up at his brother, his lips perked into a soft, bittersweet smile.

"That sounds like fun," he said, still thinking a bit about what happened between him and his crush.

...

With a bright smile and hands placed politely on his knees while sitting criss-crossed, Philip keenly watched his brother begin to add an eye hole to the wooden surprise he was carving for him.

"Oh, oh! I already know what you're making me, Caleb!" Philip excitedly exclaimed with a small bounce as he directed his finger at the progressing work.

"You're making me a mask!"

Caleb chuckled as he confirmed Philip's answer with a nod while seated on the sitting room stump, carefully sinking his knife into the second eye hole he was creating.

"That's right, Pip, I am," Caleb said, carving holes in the top part of the mask. "And I'm almost finished, too!"

"You are? Hooray!" Philip cheered, clapping his hands excitedly.

The elder gestured for the younger to hand him the two antler-shaped branches that were lying nearby on the floor, and once he did so with a giggle, Caleb attached them inside the holes like horns.

"Ooo, they look like mandibles!" Philip beamed out with a wide smile.

Caleb gave a chuckle. "Mandi-what, Pip?" he asked, puzzled by the new word.

"They're the mouthpart of an insect," Philip explained. "Beetles have them!"

Beetles were his favorite insects.

"Ooooh!" Caleb went in realization. "Hmm... I thought they looked more like deer antlers."

After a short-lived thought, he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess they can be both."

...

After affixing a string onto the mask, Caleb was finally done.

He smiled fondly at his creation, then at Philip.

"Look, Pip, I've finished your mask!" Caleb said, showing it to Philip. "Come try it on!"

Philip gasped.

"Oh, boy!" Springing toward Caleb, Philip took his new mask and placed it on his face.

"How is it?" Caleb inquired while watching blue eyes blink inside the rounded eye holes.

"It's..."

A shaky smile started to spread on Caleb's face as he watched Philip slowly direct his gaze to the ground in an almost eerie manner.

He didn't even notice his eye holes growing hollow.

Caleb silently prayed that his brother liked the mask.

"... Awesome!" Philip looked up to Caleb with a big smile, his eyes visible once more, which made the blonde breathe out a sigh of relief and wipe his brow.

"How do I look?"

"So cool!" Caleb complimented as he continued. "If a witch came across you, they would certainly perceive you as one of them."

Knowing that got Philip pumped, imagining himself as a great Witch Hunter General who managed to trick every witch he met wearing his mask before leading them to their deaths.

"Yay!" Philip beamed before speedily wrapping Caleb in a hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, so much, Caleb! Now we can play..."

"Witch Hunters!"

Both boys beam at the same time as they enthusiastically emerge behind a shiny pastel background filled with shimmering skulls and severed witch heads, with the words "Witch Hunters!" above them in rainbow glitter letters.

With Philip's wooden sword raised triumphantly in the air and Caleb, wearing his witch hat and cape during this moment, now raising his clenched fist, the scene transitions to the woods.

...

"Get back here, you speedy little witch hunter!"

"You'll never catch me, you fowl witch!"

Caleb, the wildest and most cunning witch in Gravesfield, was quite fast, but not as fast as Philip, the greatest and most feared witch hunter who ever lived.

A small, stealthy smile crept across Caleb's lips as he continued his mission to catch Philip, sharp brown eyes trying to pick out any sign of the hunter.

Caleb became more vigilant with every rustle of the leaves and trees, every crunch and snap of the twigs he stepped on, and every shadow that seemed to move independently.

Upon hearing a rustle behind a nearby bush, Caleb sprinted and was prepared to jump on it.

While running, he heard Philip taunt him from a distance and stopped, keenly listening.

"I'm not there, you silly witch. If you want to see me, you must go further," Philip advised, his daring voice echoing through the woods.

Caleb let out a giggle as he walked toward where he heard the echo.

This was by far his and Philip's most fun game of Witch Hunters yet.

"There you are, witch hunter!" Caleb approached Philip, who he saw standing on a small, rocky hill.

"So, this is where you chose to hide from me," he cackled, not paying much attention to the brown rope end that Philip was holding.

Philip shook his fist. "I wouldn't come closer if I were you, witch!" he warned, which only made Caleb cackle once more as he took another step.

"Oh, yeah?" the blonde hummed in a playful tone, holding up both of his hands as he was ready to cast a witchy spell.

Ominously wiggling his fingers, he asked, "And why's that?"

Caleb was standing precisely in the spot where Philip desired him to be.

The witch was oblivious to the fact that he had fallen into his trap with such ease.

Pulling tightly onto the rope end, the noose that was spread on the ground entraps Caleb as he loses balance and falls.

"That's why, witch!" Hopping down from the hill, Philip pulls out his wooden sword and raises it up over Caleb.

"Now DIE!" Philip roars, his eye holes hollow as he repeatedly plunges his weapon into Caleb's stomach.

The elder smiles broadly and closes his eyes, hanging his tongue out.

The "witch" was now "dead".

Placing his foot on the now "deceased demon", Philip takes on a heroic stance and wholeheartedly states, "Gravesfield is once again safe thanks to Witch Hunter General Philip!"

"Alright, Witch Hunter General," Caleb began as he broke character and opened his eyes.

"Time for us to play a different game," he chuckled with a smile.

...

A trio consisting of a woman in a coif and two men, one with dark hair and one with blonde hair, strolled smoothly through the town market.

As they began passing by a large wooden crate that was situated between two empty vendor booths...

PBBBT!!!

The horrendous sound immediately caused the three to stop, and they awkwardly shifted glances at one another, wondering who broke wind.

The woman, offended by the fact that the two gentlemen who were accompanying her would even assume that she would do such a sinful thing in public, begins to glare daggers at the two.

Tap, tap, tap, went her foot as she awaited for one or both of them to confess and repent.

When they didn't, the men both received sharp slaps to the faces from the woman as she huffed and walked away.

PBBBT!!!

Both men stared awkwardly at one another as they slowly backed away from each other.

Behind the crate, the faintest of giggles could be heard.

"I can't believe you convinced me to play such a game, Pip," whispered a giggly Caleb, who had just witnessed his brother blow the loudest raspberry. "It's so silly. If we get caught, we'll get into so much trouble."

"We won't," a giggly Philip whispered in a hushed tone as he pointed a finger at upcoming people. "Oh look, more people are coming, Caleb!"

Both boys began to form playful smiles.

A montage begins as various people pass by the crate that Philip and Caleb are hiding behind.

They hear a sharp and sudden raspberry, which they mistakenly believe is flatulence.

Their reactions, which were either confusion, shock, disgust, or embarrassment, cause the boys to chuckle quietly every time.

Caleb's chuckle attack is a result of Philip imitating a few of their reaction faces.

The boys continued to blow raspberries and softly laugh until the sky turned purple-black and was filled with stars, leading to the end of the montage.

...

"The sky sure is pretty, isn't it, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip.

The blonde found himself getting lost in the beauty of the night sky as he gazed upward, him and his brother still seated behind the large wooden crate.

"Mm-hm," Philip hummed listlessly in agreement, sitting with his knees drawn up as he gazed downward at the dirt, dragging his pointer finger across it.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked brightly across the night sky.

Upon recalling his mother's words about shooting stars, Caleb gave a small gasp.

"Pip, look, look!" The blonde beamed, pointing a finger at the sky while gently tugging on his brother's yoke.

"Did you see that shooting star? It flew by so fast! We have to make a..."

As his brother sighed, Caleb gazed down at him, and all the enthusiasm in his voice slowly disappeared.

"... wish," he whispered, a look of concern crossing his face. "What's wrong, Pip?"

Philip sighed once more. "Do you remember when you asked me if something happened at school while we were at the table?"

Caleb nodded. "I do." The elder wrapped his arm around Philip's shoulder, pulling him close.

"Well," Philip softly continued, resting his head on Caleb's shoulder. "There's this girl that I really..."

Philip paused, not ready to reveal his feelings for Madison to Caleb.

"She... I tried to give her gifts, but she ran away and said that... I was weird."

"I see," Caleb said, softly rubbing his brother's back. "And what were the gifts you attempted to give her?"

"A dead bird and a snake," Philip revealed calmly. "They were really nice."

"O-Oh..." Caleb tried to conceal his shock by curling his lips into a small, caring smile.

"Well, you really like to write, Pip. Maybe you can write her an apology letter. I'll even try to help you with it. In addition to the letter, you can also give her gifts that are more... suitable for girls."

"Like what?" Philip asked innocently, looking up at his brother.

"Like... flowers!" Caleb answered. "Girls really like flowers. It's possible that if you gave this girl some flowers, she would really start to like you."

"Really?" The brunette started to perk up, knowing that they had flour at home.

Caleb nodded.

"Well, she did seem to really like it when I told her that her hair smelled pretty," Philip said, reminiscing on the moment as slight blush dusted his cheeks.

"I then asked her if she took a bath, but that's only because there's no way your hair could smell that good if you hadn't bathed, right Caleb?"

Before Caleb could react and respond to his brother's statement and question, both boys fell silent to the sound of upcoming footsteps.

Slowly poking their heads up, they both proceeded to see the shadow of a cloaked figure about Caleb's height, but slightly shorter, dawdling down the walkway.

The figure appeared feminine and had fluffy hair under their hood.

"Who is that?" Philip whispered, in which Caleb shrugged in response.

When the cloaked figure abruptly stopped between the crate and a booth on the right, they turned their head to the left, and Caleb and Philip quickly sunk down.

The mysterious figure's footsteps approached, causing both boys to feel their hearts race.

As the figure slowly attempts to peer behind the crate to determine who is present...

"THERE YOU ARE, WITCH!"

The figure, alarmed by the shouting, raises their head to see Mr. Town Minister running toward them.

Without delay, they start taking off immediately.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" the minister shouted once more as the cat and mouse chase between him and the figure continued.

A loud, witchy cackle was heard by the figure due to their speed advantage over the minister.

'There's that same laugh from earlier today...' thought Caleb as he and Philip snuck off in the direction that led them out of town.

...

"... Did you see the way the minister was chasing that witch?"

As Philip asked his question, his blue eyes were big and bright with admiration while Caleb nodded with a smile and a yawn as both boys entered their home.

After the front door was closed, Caleb continued to follow Philip.

"He's so brave!" the brunette beamed with cheer as he and his brother were nearing the dining room.

"I hope that when I become a Witch Hunter General, I'll be just as good at hunting witches as he is."

"Yeah, me too!" Caleb said, his smile still present as he yawned out a second yawn.

As soon as they entered the dining area, both boys gasped and widened their eyes at the unwelcome guest in the room.

"Hey!" Philip's shout seems to attract the attention of the white-tailed deer near the table.

It froze for a moment before lifting its head out of Caleb's basket, fixing its gaze on the two children.

The boys and the deer's stares were short-lived as the woodland animal used its teeth to grab hold of the basket handle before making a beeline for the sitting room, which caused Philip and Caleb to gasp and quickly give chase after it.

Choas and commotion dominated the atmosphere as rambunctious footsteps rang out from the running.

...

The Wittebane household was now in tune with the quietness of the night as faint and gentle snores could be heard in the sitting room.

Philip, Caleb, and the deer were sleeping in a cluster on the rug in the room, under a large blanket that was draped over them.

Meanwhile, the basket was atop the sitting room's stump.

[bullet-prooflove]

One Punch: Walker x Reader (Yellowstone)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wilnutsstuff

Walker still carries your letters, he keeps them bundled up with a length of string at the bottom of his backpack, tucked away safe. They’re the only thing that got him through his jail sentence, that kept him clean when he was inside.

Now he’s in a different type of prison, one that comes with a brand but the result is still the same. You’re still apart and that’s on him, because he didn’t tell you he was getting out of jail, he doesn’t want you getting tangled up in him again.

But fate…

It’s never that kind. Not to him.

When he sees you again, you’re leaning against the wall of the bunk house waiting for him. You’re wearing a cornflower blue summer dress that matches your eyes with tiny red roses embroidered into it. It falls past your knees over brown worn out cowboy boots that you used to wear for every single one of your gigs together. Your fiddle is propped up in it’s case alongside of you.

You still look as beautiful as the day he last saw you, sitting in the courtroom when he was sentenced to seven years for manslaughter. He remembers the look in your eyes, the devastation because the man he killed, he did that for you, because that son of a bitch put his hands on you, hurt you.

It was one punch, but one punch was enough.

“Darling,” He whispers because his heart, it aches for you, it always has.

When you push off the wall he expects you to berate him, slap him, scream at him but you don’t because that’s never been your way. Not through the two stints of rehab you got him through or those times you found him at the bottom of a bottle.

Instead you kiss him, you kiss him like it hasn’t been seven years, like you’re still in love with him even after he stopped writing you back. Even after he revoked your visitors privileges because you deserve better than him, you always have.

But Walker he’s a selfish man, he always has been so he kisses you back, his fingers threading through your hair because Walker he’s ever stopped loving you, not for a single second.

Love Walker? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[seijorhi]

Rhi, I stumbled upon one of your drabbles again about Vash and the babytrap thing, and it occurred to me that it would be a big shock to the reader when the baby was born and there were physical features of Vash in the baby. Something like the color of his eyes, or his blonde hair, or even the mole he has under his eye. I think Vash would have trouble explaining himself....

now, we're going with the assumption that the reader does not have similar features to vash because obviously then a blue eyed, blond baby would not be all that surprising

to be honest, i don't think it'd be something that she noticed right away. even if the kid was born with blond hair and pretty blue eyes, unless it comes outta the womb wearing a pair of dumb red-tinted glasses, her first thought is not gonna jump to vash being the father.

firstly because those features in and of themselves are not necessarily damning, but more importantly because there's gonna be a mental disconnect between the friend she knows and trusts, and the person who drugged and raped her.

no, it'd probably be the second or third time they go out together, the bouncing bundle of joy safe in her arms, when a well meaning stranger comes up and coos a comment about how the baby looks so much like its daddy that a tiny seed of doubt worms its way in. not helped any when vash just blushes and laughs, not exactly disagreeing.

it's far from the first time people have assumed they're a couple, and they're both long past bothering to correct them on it, but suddenly the arm vash has looped around her waist feels... uncomfortable. they're not a couple and this baby isn't his–

right?

once it sinks its claws in, though, doubt isn't so easy to dismiss. and once she starts looking, she can't stop seeing it. the shape of their eyes. that brilliant shade of cornflower blue. the slope of their noses and the ridge of their brows. a mirror image.

but vash isn't blind either. deep down, some part of him knew this was a possibility, much as he wished it otherwise. he hates it, the suspicion in her eyes, how she starts flinching away from him, trying to put as much distance between him and the two of them as she can manage in their little apartment.

it's not what he wanted, but vash is nothing if not adaptable. he knows her better than she knows herself, she can't hate him forever. she just needs some time to calm down and cool off, and then she'll remember how much he loves her – loves this family – and she'll forgive him. she won't have a choice.

[barbwillbrb]

Mana is a poor reader, she struggles to learn but astarion is surprisingly patient with her. She learns and she borrows books from gale and uses every little bit shes learned. Things mean things, Ma'na works hard to clarify why flowers are special. Shadowheart says they have meaning. They send messages when arranged right, Gale has a book for that. searching high and low for the right gift. The right way way to say things

Very carefully, she sets the flowers together all arranged as nicely as she can. After a deep breath she marches over to present it. A bundle of red tulips, dusty blue cornflower and golden honeysuckle.

"I brought you something."

[I needed to know how Ma'na would confess!]

Needed to give this sweet thing a proper response. So boom—

gonna color it but really like the lineart so far

Anyways Rackal passed the perception check.

(can ya’ll tell I like size differences yet)

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Look, we thought pairing my LDB up with freaking Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced instead of Ulfric would be funny.

It wasn't. It was just sad.

ao3 | masterlist

As I told my dear sweet @elder-dragon-reposes, it's one thing for one of Ulfric's followers clear across Skyrim to get heart eyes for Ulfric's girlfriendsword arm, but it's another matter entirely if it's one of his generals. In his own city.

Yrsarald remembers the Dragonborn from when she came to call Ulfric to the Greybeards' council. He remembers that she was soft-spoken and adamant about the World-Eater. She's hopeful and compassionate, and that stands out to him, even if she is an elf.

Ulfric doesn't seem to mind her ancestry, so Yrsarald elects to ignore it untilunless it becomes a problem.

News comes that Alduin has been banished, and the Dragonborn is about Skyrim, helping people. It's . . . nice that the foreign half-elf seems to care so much for the well-being of Skyrim and her people. Yrsarald keeps tabs on her through the informants and spy networks. It's a matter of security if the Dragonborn turns traitor to Skyrim and helps the blasted Thalmor. Galmar isn't keeping up with it, so for Ulfric and the Stormcloaks' sake, Yrsarald is.

But all he hears are good things. She wins admiration everywhere she goes, but she doesn't belong anywhere. Balgruuf the Greater is trying to tie the Dragonborn to Whiterun, but she's as flighty as Kyne's winds. Somewhere in there, Yrsarald learns her name is Leara Ormand and she's from HIgh Rock. She grew up on magic and chivalry. She probably sees life as a fairy tale. He may disdain her for it.

But then she comes to Windhelm. They've had troubles of their own, being stretched between the care of the city and fighting a war. And she solves problems. He hears she's investigating the serial killer in town . . .

. . .then finds the Butcher, and she's hurt? Ulfric is concerned, but Yrsarald finds himself livid. He cannot see his Jarl's worry for his own shame that their hero came to help them, and all she got in return was a bleeding wound and permafrost on her skin.

Imagine being so in love with an otherwise mythic figure, a celebrity, that you can't see that your friend, your brother, is also in love with her. How can you see it when you aren't ready to admit your own feelings?

Leara is renting a room at Candlehearth when Yrsarald decides he needs to pay his respects to her. She is surprised when he meets her near dinner. He has never seen a woman so precisely featured before. She's not in armor (he's only seen her in silver plate); her hair is down (curling in blood rose vines) and she's bundled in a cornflower blue dress (it's loose to accommodate her bandages). He wants to sit down and talk to her, but he doesn't. He thanks her, though, and she smiles. He stops by the counter later to make sure Elda sends her a dessert .

"But don't bother her with who it's from." "Well if that's how you choose to show your appreciation."

Yrsarald buys Leara sweets after that. She doesn't know it's him. She knows it's someone who appreciates her service and feels bad about her getting hurt, but Elda won't crack. Drat the woman.

Leara wonders if Ulfric is gifting her the sweets. She wants to hope it's Ulfric. She wants their past to be past and for her to appreciate everything she continues to do not for him, but to his benefit; she wasn't drawn in by his smile or anything. Who else would it be if not him? Ralof? He's not in town. General Stone-Fist didn't seem too bothered about her.

Leara's still healing. She's not bedridden or anything, but she's not fit to go beyond the city gates where there are bandits and dragons and necromancers (oh my!), so she decides that visiting the court wizard might be a fruitful investment of her time. She shuffles off to the Palace of the Kings. She runs into Jorleif right off and, on telling him she'd like to visit the court wizard, he's ready to take her to Wuunferth because she's been to see him before, and after all, she is the Dragonborn.

And this is that delightful moment when fate can swing either way because if Ulfric shows up and offers to walk Leara, that's all she wrote. Yrsarald's lost his chance because now that soft smile from Candlehearth is directed at the Jarl, not him, and Yrsarald will never get it back.

But maybe, just maybe, if Yrsarald gets to Leara before Ulfric does, if he captures her attention in conversation, maybe she'll look at him.

For a general commanding troops, it's terribly hard to be brave before a woman.

He would ask her how she's healing from the attack, and Leara would sigh, tired with herself but patient in her speech, because she's healing but she feels like she's letting the people down. And the tips of her ears might turn pink (Yrsarald didn't know elf ears did that) because Leara didn't mean to be that candid and trouble him – but Yrsarald is tripping over himself to tell her that she's done more for Skyrim than anyone (why is his neck red?) and it's reasonable for her to convalesce after an injury.

"Rest and eat apple tarts." ". . . how did you know I was eating apple tarts?"

Yrsarald coughs (he did not mean to tell her that). Leara is staring at him. They're at Wuunferth's quarters. She blinks at him before thanking him for guiding her through the palace. Then she's gone, and Yrsarald is kicking himself for being an idiot.

He's smitten.

Soon (too soon) Leara has healed from her injury and she's at the palace again, but this time she's offering to help Ulfric negotiate a permanent peace between both sides. Ulfric's seen Leara at the table, he knows what she can do. Galmar is more skeptical, but when Ulfric looks to Yrsarald for his opinion (and Leara's too-blue winter deep eyes follow) he says to let her have at it.

Leara needs to be brought up on the Stormcloaks holdings and Ulfric says he'll help her, but then Galmar needs him for something else and Yrsarald (does NOTdoes) jumps at the chance to help the Dragonborn. She's attentive and quiet, and asks the right questions about supplies and movements. And Yrsarald realizes as he's talking to her that Leara has been in a war before.

"Were you in the Great War?"

The stiffening of her shoulders is almost imperceptible. He'd have missed it if he weren't watching her so intently.

"Yes."

Her reply is measured. She does not lie.

"Legion?"

Because everyone was in the Legion then. Back when it fought for Skyrim. He wouldn't fault her if she was . . . why is her face sour? Her mouth is pinched.

"It doesn't matter–" "It does."

Why does it matter? He wonders, why is he pressing?

Her eyes are wide. So wide and too-blue.

Leara looks ill.

And then he knows.

He knew from the beginning she couldn't be trusted. She was an elf. All elves scurried back to the Thalmor in the end. She was here for that blasted Thalmor "ambassador" – she would betray Ulfric and the sons of Skyrim to their deaths!

There's a breathless scream.

Yrsarald doesn't realize until then that he has her on the ground. She's so small and too precisely featured. Her eyes are too blue. She's a traitor, a liar, a fraud–

The Dragonborn does not care for Skyrim.

"Yrsarald, please–"

Yrsarald growls.

Why is she crying? Doesn't she realize what she's doing to Skyrim? – Done to him? All this time and Yrsarald realizes he let Leara lure him into a fairy tale, only for her to shatter it with frigid reality when he thinks, when he thinks . . .

He might love her.

But elves can't love.

"You will rue the day you stepped foot in Skyrim, elf!"

She's sobbing. If she were really a true Dragonborn, she'd try and Shout him off, but Yrsarald wonders if she lied about that, too. High Elf illusions.

"Yrsa–" "What's going–?!"

Then Yrsarald is yanked back forcibly. Galmar is there. And Ralof. And Ulfric.

Ulfric is on the floor with her. Kneeling beside her as she gasps and tears turn her white gold face into wet porcelain. Kneeling beside her as if the elf wasn't going to sell Ulfric and everything they'd worked for to the Thalmor!

Yrsarald strains against Galmar and Ralof. He grits his teeth.

"She's Thalmor!"

Galmar stills. Ralof pales. Ulfric's head is bowed. She isn't making any noise but she struggles to breathe and it's tearing Yrsarald apart and enraging him all at once.

"I know."

And with those words, Yrsarald questions everything he ever knew about Ulfric Stormcloak. Ulfric knew she was a Thalmor spy? Was he coming to stop her – but . . .

Then Ulfric is lifting Leara from the ground, helping her to her feet, and it's too gentle for a King about to arrest an enemy.

Her hands are grasping Ulfric's arm, her eyes wide. Ulfric's face is drawn.

"We will discuss this later."

And he walks out with her. And the elf is free. And Yrsarald doesn't understand.

And then Galmar speaks:

"What in Oblivion did you do?!"

Yrsarald . . . doesn't know anymore.

What he learns later is more than he could stomach. Leara was a member of the Thalmor and she was a member of the Blades before that, and during the war, she smuggled information from the Dominion to the Blades intelligence networks and then defected while smuggling Ulfric Stormcloak from captivity.

He's nauseous when Ralof tells him this. Respectful Ralof – save this time there's steel in his eyes and disdain in his voice.

Yrsarald realizes he deserves that.

Later, when she finds him at Candlehearth, drinking his weight in ale, he realizes he does not deserve the understanding and forgiveness and the self-loathing in her face.

"I know why you did what you did. I can't fault you for it, not when I could've sold your Jarl and cause out to the Dominion. But I–"

Leara's eyes trail off.

"I'm sorry."

He chokes out the words. Her eyes slip back. She was far away.

"I think it's for the best if we're not alone together anymore."

Then she's gone.

Yrsarald buys another round.

The next day, Galmar says Ulfric wants him in the Pale. Far away from the Dragonborn goes unspoken between them.

Yrsarald goes. Ulfric's face is hard when he bids Yrsarald goodbye. The Jarl is not as easily forgiving as the Dragonborn.

Yrsarald is in the Pale when, a month later, news comes that the Dragonborn is handling an armistice in Whiterun. Skyrim divided. What was she thinking? She's thinking for Skyrim, Yrsarald realizes. That's all she's thought about this entire time.

It's a year before he returns to the Eastern capital of Windhelm, and only then, it's because the High King is getting married.

Yrsarald sees her. He doesn't stay long after that.

After all, Ulfric would protect her. Had protected her. Even from Yrsarald.

He could live with that.

[missiletoe]

and last one for the day - fill #4! hopefully more to come <3

Prompt: character A uses flower symbolism as a means of flirting; character B knows nothing about flowers Word Count: 1224

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Someone’s playing a cruel prank on her and frankly, Kitty’s sick of it. Sure, the first few weeks she’d understood–torn notes, stolen gym clothes, weird plants in her locker, it’s run-of-the-mill new kids treatment.

But they’re three weeks in and the flowers are still streaming in like it’s Day 1. She’s pretty sure Q is collecting the petals behind her back, even though she tells him not to.

“Some of these are rare!” he protests as he shoves them into his backpack. They’re getting crushed under the weight of all his books. “Like really, really rare!”

The first week had been camellias, according to Q. White and pink buds, delicate petals layered in a seemingly endless ring around the center. Q had swooned amidst her coughing fit.

Week 2 had brought sakurasou and a raging case of hives.

“These aren’t even native to the area,” Q had shrieked. “This is a Japanese flower–the primrose! The petals are so small… and such a pretty shade of purple!” Kitty had offered a sympathetic sniffle, her nose buried too deep in a tissue to note the delicacy.

The worst part is the allergies. Portland is a nightmare in Spring but she scrapes by with a box of Claritin and cutting her schedule in half. She only steps outside out of necessity. Having petals showered on her head every time she reaches for her textbooks is a completely different story.

And now Week 3 has brought cornflowers, if Q’s expertise is to be believed.

“They’re blue,” Kitty says, picking one up by the stem. Q yelps at her lack of delicacy. “Corn isn’t blue.”

“They have a history,” he sighs at her ignorance. “And a lengthy set of meanings too.”

“Pretty sure I don’t need a dictionary for that one,” she laughs. “This must be the Korean way of saying fuck you and get out of our school.”

Q’s responding smile is strained.

“You gonna take them again?” she asks. He shrugs guiltily in response but he’s already reaching for the stems.

“It’s a pretty shade of blue,” he says by way of explanation and Kitty shakes her head.

“If you wanna keep the creepy, stalker flowers, that’s all you. It’s like they know my schedule too because they always sneak them in when I’m at classes! Anyways, same time, next week?”

Q grins and bumps his fist against hers in response.

“Sweet Williams?” she echoes on Week 4. Q nods back violently. “Doesn’t look much like a William to me, haha!”

Her joke is received with silence because Q is on 4 hours of sleep and traded in his humor for brawns at birth.

“Okay… or not,” she finishes and tosses the bundle in his direction because she knows he’ll scoop them up off the floor anyways. He’ll probably give them to Florian too and the poor guy won’t even know they’re second-rate.

“Sweet Williams,” he echoes dully and Kitty doesn’t even know if it’s the flowers or last class’ lecture that sucked the life out of him. Professor Lee can be draining on a good day and Hades-soul-sucking-levels-of-evil on a bad one. “I think I’m starting to get it.”

“Get what?” Kitty prods but Q just stares at her blankly in response. “What’s there to get?”

He studies her in the crappy hallway lights, gaze swinging like a pendulum between her and the lockers and back to her again.

“I don’t know. I’m not really sure what there’s here to get.”

Week 5 brings honeysuckles that litter the ground when she reaches for her history textbook.

“Seriously?” she yelps, grinding one underfoot as she fishes for a pencil. “Again?!”

The sneezing starts up again just as Eunice and her posse walk by. They smother their disdain the same way that the Korean haminis do when she walks in the streets with a crop top–that is, not at all. Kitty looks up at the sky and wonders again, why her?

“It’s like they’re trying to make me look stupid,” she says and doesn’t even feel bad when her locker slams shut on a petal, tearing it in two.

“No,” Q mumbles when he thinks he’s out of earshot. “You’re definitely not the one that looks stupid here.”

There are no flowers when she opens her locker on Week 6 and she nearly cries from the relief. Finally, her anonymous-stalker-slash-creep-slash-weirdo-who-only-communicates-passive-aggressively-via-flowers has chosen to let her live in peace.

She closes her locker and nearly screams. Yuri is standing in the open gap, leaning against the wall with a flower in her hand. She’s cupping it like a candle flame, like she’s shielding Kitty from it. Or maybe shielding it from Kitty?

“Please,” she says and there’s desperation edging into her voice. She nudges the stem in her direction with a flick of her wrist.

Record scratch. Rewind. That’s a flower in her hand. That means Yuri’s been the one leaving her flowers? Yuri’s been the one leaving her hate messages, telling her to get out of her school?

“You have to know what this one means,” Yuri says and she sounds tired, like she’s been stretched out on a hanger for weeks and left out to dry.

She sighs and unfurls her hand to reveal a bright red rose behind it. Oh. Oh. 

Red roses–Kitty’s seen those ones before. In shojo mangas and chickflicks and every convenience store within a two-mile radius before Valentine’s Day.

“That’s… not an ‘I-hate-you’ flower,” she says slowly. Yuri shakes her head in response and the smile tugging on her face looks worn.

“It’s an ‘I-like-you-please-go-out-with-me’ flower, Kitty,” she replies.

“Oh.” Behind her, Q gives an awkwards two thumbs-up. He knew, she realizes belatedly. She shoots him an angry why-didn’t-you-say-something look and he gives her a half-shrug with his jaw set out in response. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to force yourself to say yes out of pity. I–”

“No!” Kitty’s always had a tendency to leap before she looks and her mouth tumbles on forwards before her mind has time to catch up. “I mean–no, I, ugh! What I’m trying to say is you’re smart and beautiful and you never have a hair out of place and you saved my tourist ass when I was stranded in the airport on that first day. And you’ve helped me carve out a space for myself at KISS and made me feel like I really might belong, even when the whole universe seemed to be telling me otherwise. I think I would’ve packed my bags and given up by now, if it wasn’t for you.” Yuri’s smile has tumbled out into a full-blown thing and Kitty sucks in a deep breath before continuing.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I didn’t know someone like you could like someone like me.”

“Surprise?” Yuri says. Her lips are half-hidden behind the rose but Kitty can still make out her smile.

“Are you free Saturday?” Kitty asks suddenly because she’s overcome with the urge to nail this down now, to put a ring on her finger before she can change her mind. She has six weeks to make up for and Kitty Song Covey doesn’t do things halfway. Yuri blinks at her.

“I think so?”

“Then it’s a date! I’ll bring you flowers–what’s your favorite kind?”

Yuri looks up at her shyly before she smiles.

“Catnip!”

[hudine]

This is something of a plot bunny I came up with… don’t have a name for it either. Just a sort of prologue. This part takes place a couple hundred years before the Witcher season 1. Cannon is an unholy fusion of all three plus whatever my brain comes up with. Will be Geraskier.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Two mages and two Witchers sat in one of the mage’s work rooms in the depths of Kaer Morhen looking utterly board.

“So why exactly can’t you do the trail of the grasses on the initiates yet?” Rennes, grandmaster of the school of the wolf, asked the mages.

“Alfred is late,” Dagobert the senior mage answered.

Barmin, Rennes’ second, snorted. “Alfred Pankratz has probably just drank too much faerie wine and got stuck in yet another orgy. How that sorcerer gets himself caught up in these things I don’t know but he does too much thinking with his cock. Remember last year? He stumbled in all rumpled, covered in scratches and bite marks, then bragged about how he had a tryst with the Queen of the Seelie Spring Court. Can you not start without him?”

“If only,” the other mage, Reidrich, grumbled, “We need an ingredient only the fae can give us, and has to be given willingly. It’s the most vital component of the formula. Alfred went to fetch it from them. They don’t like Dagobert because he used to dabble in monster production, and I can’t go without risking a diplomatic incident because King Eredin of the Unseelie Night Court took grave offence that I beat him in a game of gwent of all things.”

“That’s all?” Rennes was astonished.

“He insinuated that I cheated because I won a rather valuable magical object,” Reidrich complained.

“Did you?” Barmin asked with a raised eyebrow.

“For once in my life actually I didn’t… which is probably the only reason I got out of there with my life and without the wild hunt on my tail. Anyway that leaves only Alfred without having to get one of the other schools involved. He’s late.”

As if summoned by mentioning him the lab door opened and in walked a tall wiry man with auburn hair and cornflower blue eyes, wearing loose clothes, a backpack on his back and in holding a small bundle. He looked rather frantic. “Sorry I’m late, something unexpected came up that held me back.”

“Alfred, thank the gods. You have what we need?” Dagobert asked.

“Yes, yes, that’s not the problem—“ Alfred started only for the bundle in his to start crying. “Oh come on kid. I managed to feed you, you don’t need changed, please don’t start crying again.”

“Why do you have a baby?” Rennes demanded, moving closer, catching a whiff, “A fae baby at that.”

“Remember how last year I said I had a tryst with the Spring Seelie Queen… well apparently the contraceptives didn’t work…”

“Wait… are you serious? The fae aren’t pulling a joke on you?” Reidrich inquired while moving closer to take a look.

“Yes I’m serious!” Alfred snapped back out of exasperation, “Changelings are just a myth humans made up to explain the tragic deaths of infants. A Fae child takes around two hundred years to reach the age of majority. Even the most blind human would notice if it took around eleven years for a baby to have just a year’s worth of growth.”

Alfred rocked the baby to try and quiet him as he paced frantically. “What am I going to do with a baby that will be an actual baby for a couple decades!”

“Ok we established the baby is yours. You still didn’t answer why you have them,” Barmin cajoled.

“The Queen’s consort was rather offended. Not that the child wasn’t theirs oddly enough. Although Fae do pair off with someone for many years, apparently they still don’t do strict monogamy. Not in their nature. No they where offended the baby was half human and a potential heir to the throne. Not that it’s that likely, they are the Queen’s third child and her oldest daughter who is next in line has two children herself and another on the way. Anyway although harming a child is a grave offence to the fae she was worried her consort might harm them. So now sudden and unexpected parenthood for me.”

“Well your mother has been going at you about producing an heir for a while now. At least you can now tell her you have the next Viscount de Lethenhove. She might not even mind they’re half fae. She is getting on in years after all,” Reidrich joked and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

Alfred looked even more panicked all of a sudden. “What am I going to tell mother?”

“You’ll work something out. So boy or girl?” Rennes asked.

“Undecided,” Alfred replied and got odd looks from the two Witchers.

“What? I’m sure it has to say it in one of those bestiaries somewhere. The spring court are shapeshifters as well as gender fluid. They quite literally change their sex organs from male to female all the time as children until they settle on their gender expression… some never do and change back and forth at a whim their entire lives. They can also change into one animal form instinctively but can learn how to change into others as they get older.”

“By all that howling I think that little one is going to be a wolf,” Barmin joked, “Here let me take them. Babies are very good at picking up emotions. You’re a nervous wreck it’s just going to make things worse.”

“What’s their name?” Dagobert asked this time as Alfred handed the baby over to the Witcher with some relief.

“They didn’t really have one yet. The fae wait a while before naming their children, get to know them. I’m not sure what to name them. They’re gonna be powerful magically, just feel the raw chaos. They’re a source.”

“Right now the babe sounds like they’re gonna be a bard. Not one of those flashy troubadours either that just sing, dance, and play instruments. No a true bard that can weave magic with their voice and into their songs and music,” Barmin commented. He’d got the baby to quieten down some but was still crying, just not as loudly. “Certainly got the lungs for it.”

“I should give them a male name. If my mother thinks it’s a boy it will make my life a lot easier,” Albert said thinking out loud. “Julian. It was my great grandfather’s name, my mother’s favourite grandparent, who also raised her. It also means youthful, to see the world through a child’s eyes. Appropriate given how long they will be a child compared to a human lifespan. Julian Alfred Pankratz. We can call them Jules, that’s gender neutral.”

“Well Jules, welcome to Kaer Morhen. You’re a damn site more lucky than most boys who come through here because I assume no one is going to put you through the trails,” Barmin said to the baby in his arms.

“I’d kill Dagobert or Reidrich before I let them experiment on my child by putting them through the grasses,” Alfred stated. He was the youngest of the mages at only sixty years old, but no one doubted he would follow through on his promise. “Besides. That boy isn’t just fae, he’s Hen Ichaer, elder blood, just like his mother and the rest of the fae royal families. He was tested before I left. He’ll grow up to have the strength, speed, hearing, vision, and the rest of any Witcher. We really need to get making the potions we need. We’re running late. What are we going to do with a baby in the middle of it?” Alfred asked, remembering why they’re there.

“Oh that’s easy. We got a young upstart we had to take off the path for a while because of an incident people are blaming him for. Not his fault really, it’s just the optics. Best keeping him here for a while until people forget. He doesn’t like kids much, so we made him a fencing instructor a week ago,” Rennes said with a smirk.

“Oh… the kid is gonna just love this,” Barmin agreed with a laugh. “Don’t worry we have the perfect nanny in mind. We should leave you to it and go find Vesemir.”

@xxx|}::::::::::::::::::::>

[astarab1aze]

@tunichtgxt

Fleeing to the north had been a...good idea, decidedly, for in the town Kaede'd found himself in, there was enough snow that when spring came, the melt would wash away the terror nipping at his heels. Someday, the mages from Zuri would catch up with him, if his clan didn't do so first - but that was neither here nor there, in the moment, not when horse-drawn carriages and dirty, bundled up little ones were bolting about the town streets. The sound alone was enough to jolt him free of his reverie. Or, rather, alert him to the fact he was soon to run smack into another--

Rounded ears perked up, cornflower gaze tearing away from simply detailed wood carvings and hammered metal, clay displays, folk of all sorts relatively peacefully trading- and he looked up at the man, wearing clothes and hints of armor denoting a particular social station the elfhen ought to have stopped to properly appreciate lest he be thrown in a cell. When visiting a new land, especially as a...refugee, it was important to observe local customs, none of which he knew, but even in Yuurei, even in the Diremark, bowing his head, keeping himself small, being respectful beyond reason, was what would ensure his safety for the time being - so he did just that.

"Forgive me, My Lord," he said, only barely catching an eyeful of white hair and icy blue eyes. His tail wriggled in the leg of his hakama, strokes of gray amid midnight coloration, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. "It was not my intention to come so close to you. You must be very busy... P-please, allow me to get out of your way."

[artisticcrow]

Time for Another Break Down Post! All the details of this pic cut below

So if you want to reblog just this pic, go here!

Now then On to the break down!

Let’s start with the star himself Ren:

Now Wolfboy here has a bit going on his design. 

Of course being that he’s wearing his vacation get up with the flowers, glasses, and watch changing color as he looses life I wanted someway to incorporate all of that. 

So please imagine that the glare in his glasses are yellow and red. Also the outer petals of the flower are red and yellow while the inner are that true pink and then of course the center being the light blue of the shirt itself. He has a flower bracelet that has all three traffic colors and those colors also show up in small bars on his watch!

This design of Ren has several scars to represent his deaths both in DL and from 3L and LL as well. With the most prominent one being the dripstone scar the cracked open the top of his forehead! 

Speaking of which if you look above him and the moon, on top of the pic there are in fact some dripstone there.

Ren has three pins on his design, two on his suspenders and one on the collar of his button up. A Prince Frog pin to reference how he found Big B, A log on fire for the summoning ceremony, and a cookie, once again for his Soulmate.

He has many things attach to his belt that I best make an itemized list from left to right. 1. A bunch of “summoning” candels that hand around his side and back that are clearly just Yankee candel with lead wrapped around them. 2. Sugar Cane in a holster because he earned what he stole and grew. 3. A sheath dagger for his diamond sword. 4. A bundle of wheat from the home garden that he can use to make bread, and 5. a curved goat horn.

Bonus he has has a crown for a belt buckle. Is the royal season rising or is it just a princely curse?

Final notes is that Ren is a very harry boi with sharp claws and he has furry dog legs.

Now onto Martyn;

Martyn here is an Ocelot becuase it was too funny to let it go that he logged into the wrong skin, though of course his MCC outfit has changed just a little bit.

I am a big fan of the Celestial Bodies as Life Series Championships and tbh the whole Martyn as the Ocean thing while makes sense in isolation really doesn’t make sense with the theming, so instead I counter it with making him a Comet. And before anyone says anything comets often are in the ocean and due often contain water.

But if you really are stuck on the Ocean theming I feel like the entire Earth instead of just the ocean or a water theming planet like Neptune should work.

Now Martn here has a lot of hearts through his theming, from his jacket to his sword he is the broken heart he lives in. He also claimed to be a modern artist, not someone whose bring down the property value like many in the neighborhood watch complained. 

So of course he has his artist apron full of brushes and the like and a pallet shield to protect himself. 

He’s also the only one in the pick all but grasping at his soul unlike the others whose soul floats above their hands. Grasping for connection to betray. Like the Cornflower from Cleo he has proudly on his jacket or the Moon charm on his Sword.

Idk where else I’m going to put this but he dose in fact have a horn and telescope hidden in his side just hanging in there. 

Tbh whenever I didn’t know what to do with certain area’s of his design, I just ref’ed his Vtuber model and compared it a picture of an Ocelot.

All halo’s by a portal design listening behind him

Funfact; all of the Broken Hearts Club Members have a Spiked Band with a Demon charm on it, Ren’s is covering his Beheading Scar from 3L making a choker, Pearls is openly on her wrist, and Martyn’s- Martyn’s is on the mirroring wrist, turned away and hidden, the charm blocked by His Hand.

Now onto Pearl’s Design!

The Champion herself of course is a crescent tailed demoness, but she’s wearing a red wolf’s cloak.

I really went hard into the Fairytale theming for Pearl, like sure the other two have vague hints here and there, but here it’s just everywhere.

From her witch esq clothing to her Golden Apple in a Bottle, I just had fun.

But of course beware as she does have her nasty fishing rod and sword behind her back as well. She has a dark blue vest over her white dress to contrast her redlife cloak. Which ref’s her starting skin and red life skin she switched to early on.

Over all it’s a more simpler design that I had real fun putting together.

Though it did come with some regrets, such as me wishing I had the room to make the ink around her moon’s cloud thicker and maybe given Scott’s soul a bunch of cracks rather the matching blank I went with.

I gave her waaaaay more eyes than Martyn as she watched way more.

A couple final details

Connected to Ren’s Soul is of course his Soulmate which is rotating around the sun with another Soul whose bond is leading off picture.

Matryn’s annoying paw shoes where only possible due to the amount of color and shapes in his mcc shoes.

Bdubs and Impulse are holding hands while their souls are broken broken but still bonded directly below Ren. My man wanted to avenge his Soulmate and thus he get’s a little silly goof as a treat. 

And Finally while I am not showing you the pic again; please know that Ren’s pole axe was a Time[Negative] to draw. 

Just a whole time right there.

[labrxnth]

BoC Chapter 2: Distant Beaches (Leon x Reader Series)

In flower language, a cornflower means "Be careful with me, please, I'm delicate"

Tag List:

WC: 3261

CWs: some heinous forced father figure shit, human experimentation, PTSD, kidnapping, cannon level body horror, cannon level swearing and violence, body comparison.

AN: I chose to go with Leon's original backstory because fuck you. Also I'm in love with the idea of him being hungover during RE2. It makes everything so much worse lmao.

If you want to be on the tag list, comment and it'll be done.

Spotify Link: Listen along to the playlist I've curated for this fanfic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

“So this is what you’re up to?” You asked, your eyes on the booklet in his hand. 

The dark, sinister hallway that had your stomach in knots wasn’t easy to look at. Walls covered in water staining and blood echoed like a chamber. The floors were covered in mystery liquid, one you weren’t gonna ask about. The notebook in Leon’s hand was easier to look at, the question was to get the uneasiness out of your head. 

“Yeah,” Leon answered, his eyes flickering between the book and forward, as if waiting for something to jump out at the two of you. The hallway was dimly lit from his flashlight, adding to his growing suspense. 

Looking at him, you could tell the signs of someone in denial and trying to juggle multiple things at once.

“Do you want me to keep track of the booklet?” You asked. You had been brought up to help people, engineered to do the exact same thing. Over the past 9 years, you were told how helpful you were, how good you were. 

“I can’t ask you to do that, you focus on that ankle,” Leon said and pocketed the notebook. You made sure to take note of where he put the small booklet. His right back pocket.

One question you had on your mind since venturing out from the room you met in was at the forefront, begging to be asked. 

“Is this what the world looks like now?” You asked, your eyes on the ceiling, seeing the different stains and wiring showing, sparking. You remembered the neon, the smell of hairspray, not this. 

“I guess. I don’t know what’s going on here, but my only guess is that it’s only here that’s affected. At least in Denver it’s not like this,” He replied. He stopped walking and shook his head a little bit, then continued to walk. “At least when I left, it wasn’t like this,” He added. 

Denver, you remembered that name. It was the capital of a state, unfortunately you couldn’t remember which one. Trying to remember social studies from 9 years ago was like trying to remember a piece of information so deep in your mind that it wouldn't budge. 

You were trying to figure out how to ask for more information without revealing too much, but the sound of your foot slipping caught your attention. 

Hands were suddenly on your arms, making you sturdy and upright again. Leon’s face was inches from yours as the flashlight illuminated a random wall from him grabbing you. 

“Careful, can’t have you spraining that other ankle,” He said, looking over you to make sure you were okay. 

You were miles away, the sudden touch, or rather grab, was all too familiar to you. Leon meant it in goodwill, but you were used to people jostling you around, moving you at their own will and want. In place of Leon, you saw David, his eyes leering down at you. 

“Be a good girl for me, Thirteen,” He said, a snarl on his face as a syringe was in his hand. He held you with one arm, forcing you to stay still as the large needle with your usual sleeping medication got closer to you. 

You had to get out, you had to break free, don’t let the needle touch you, get out from his grip, don’t touch me-

“Hey, you okay?” You were brought back to reality by another voice, one that was starting to be familiar. As you blinked, the white walls and floors melted back to the dark blue and hazy green atmosphere of the place you were in. 

Leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you with concern. His blue eyes searched you over, checking you for any sign of hurt. 

“Y-yeah,” You managed to say, your voice cracking. “Just startled is all…” Your heart sped up as adrenaline entered your body. Lying didn’t come easily to you, it never did. You were hoping that Leon didn’t catch the unevenness of your tone and how clammy your hands had gotten. 

He seemed to believe you, or at least think it would be too much to call you out on the lie. Leon nodded and let go of you, turning back to facing forward. “Watch your step, there’s blood and worse everywhere,” He said and continued walking. 

“...Blood?” You asked, finally looking down at what you had slipped on. Sure enough, painting the tiled floor was thick streams of crimson red. Your eyes widened as you saw the blood now on your bare feet. Vomit threatened to come up and you started slightly shaking. 

You weren’t used to seeing blood. Everything in the Umbrella lab was clean, you never saw blood there. 

Leon turned to look at you, as if sensing you stopping. The flashlight turned to you and he took in your expression. 

“We gotta keep moving, there’s a locker room up ahead, we can find you some better clothes and some shoes there,” He said.

“Why is there…” You said, trailing off. 

To Leon’s credit, he picked up on what was happening quickly. He walked back to you and held out a hand to you. 

Your eyes focused on his hand, then flicked up to his eyes, seeing compassion in them. 

“The quicker we move, the quicker we can get out of here,” He said softly. 

You nodded and reached out to his hand. You remembered something like this, this was normal, people held hands all the time. Flashes of memories of your parents, your friends, and you holding hands. Whether it was during a game, or leading you through something, it was normal. This was a normal thing.

Leon’s hand softly grabbed yours, lacing your fingers together. The familiarity of soft human contact, a touch not expecting anything in return was enough to bring you back. Before all of this. 

Looking up to Leon, he wasn’t Leon anymore. A middle aged man with black hair and blue eyes stood in front of you. He was two times your size, tall and wide. He smelled of the Ocean. His eyes looked at you lovingly and his smile had a chipped tooth from eating ice. 

Dad. My dad. 

“Come on sunshine, I got you,” He said and held your hand, walking you to a stall that was so much taller than you. 

The smell of high tide filled your nose and the squawk of seagulls could be heard all around you. Looking down, you saw the usual dark brown wooden planks that were waterlogged. You remembered this place. 

The beach. 

Your dad crouched down to your height and pointed at the stall, then the worker. “Tell the nice ice cream man what flavor you want,” He said, smiling at you. You could feel the hand patting your back, encouraging you to speak. 

This was what an actual father was supposed to be. This is what you had been ripped from, forced to forget. 

Your dad looked at you. “____, tell him. I know you can do it, honey,” He said softly. What was supposed to be your name was static, even your memories couldn’t remember your old identity. Who you were born to be. 

Suddenly, his expression changed and he stood back up. “_____, I have to take care of something. I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit, but I’ll be back,” He said. 

“Joan, I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit, but I’ll be back,” Leon said, his voice bringing you back to your present again. That’s twice today, that was a new record. 

You were so used to surviving in Umbrella that you didn't have the luxury of memories. That, and the memory serum they pumped in you did its job in suppressing them. 

“Okay,” You said and nodded, barely processing what he said. The two of you were in a small outlet of a hallway, Leon looking around the corner. Your hands were still entangled in each other, the warmth spreading up your arm. 

“Give me two minutes and I’ll be back,” He said, looking back at you. 

“What if you’re not?” You asked nervously. Having a backup was something you had learned to have over the many years of failing escape. 

“I’ll be back, I’m not leaving you alone in here,” Leon said, getting a little closer to you. “Don’t worry, I’ve fought these things before, I know how to kill them,” He added. 

Your eyes widened at his words. 

Things…. 

Kill? 

“What?” You asked, your mind reeling trying to figure out what he meant. 

Leon looked at you, confused for a second, then he realized something. “You have no clue about the outbreak,” He said. It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. Stating it. 

“Outbreak?” You said. You remembered David’s words from when you left the facility, "Birkin messed with something." You had a sense that whatever was going on, this Birkin was responsible. 

Leon looked at the floor, trying to figure out how to explain it. “So, we’re currently in the middle of a zombie outbreak. I don’t know why and I don’t know what causes it, but the dead aren’t actually dead,” He said, looking at you. His eyes looked at you like he expected you to freak out. 

“O…kay?” You said, not really getting as hung up on it as Leon expected you to. For the past nine years you were surrounded by scientists who fucked around with human biology, you weren’t really surprised that the dead could come back to life. 

“You’re taking this way better than I guessed you would,” Leon said. He let go of your hand to cross his arms. His eyes looked at you, a hint of untrust in them. 

“I grew up around biologists,” You offered as an explanation. He took it as the truth, out of convenience. 

“When we make it out of here, I’m never touching another bottle of alcohol ever again,” He grumbled and checked the gun he was holding. “Two minutes,” He said and nodded to you. 

You nodded in agreement and watched him go around the corner. After a few seconds, you heard gunshots and a yelp, then bodies hitting the floor. 

Soon enough, the ashy blonde hair of your new companion came around the corner and he looked at you. “It’s clear,” He said. 

You nodded and went to walk, but instead his hand reached out to you again. As if missing the feeling of the warmth between the two of you, you took it almost immediately. 

“Hold on,” Leon said, not moving. He got closer to you and his eyes met you. As he got closer, you could see the blood spurts on his face, making you flinch a bit. 

“I need you to close your eyes, okay?” He asked. 

“Uh okay,” You said quietly and squeezed your eyes shut. For some reason, you knew you could trust him. Maybe he was the only person you thought you could trust. That idea scared you, the idea of trust was one you weren’t used to anymore. 

Leon guided you through the hallway, lightly pulling your hand forward. Looking back, he noticed how awkward and slowly you moved through the hallway even with his guidance. He walked back to you and went to put his other arm around your back. 

“Is it okay if I help you?” He asked gently. You nodded in reply and felt his hand on your higher back. Instead of the dread you assumed the touch would bring, it brought peace and assurance. 

After a few minutes of walking, you heard a door open after the warmth of Leon’s hand disappeared. Then, you walked through a doorway onto a different feeling floor. 

“You can open your eyes,” Leon said. 

You opened your eyes to the sight of a dimly lit locker room. You watched Leon put something into a terminal and he pressed a few buttons, running to get a newly opened locker. 

“There are uniforms and shoes in that locker, if they fit it’ll make this easier,” He sighed as he sat down and held his head with his hands. 

If Leon had been fighting all day long, it was no wonder he was tired. Anyone would keel over at this point. 

“I picked the worst day to come in,” He grumbled. 

As your hands found the locker Leon was talking about, you noticed what he said. “So you weren’t here when this started?” You asked, wanting to gain more information about what happened, or really what Leon knew. 

“No,” He admitted as he put pouches on his hips. The pouches had the letters R.P.D. written on them.

You found a uniform that looked like it was the closest to your size and took it out of the locker. Holding it up to your body, the navy blue fabric was still too big for your frame. 

It was a size women’s small.

You knew that David and Umbrella kept you malnourished so you were more agreeable and less energetic, but holding the fabric up to your body made you see how small your frame was. It was scary. 

Getting your mind off of comparing yourself to the clothes, you decided to press Leon more. “When did you get here?” You asked. 

“Today. I thought that yesterday was one of the worst days of my life so I decided to come in today. But this is… much worse than what was going on with me,” He sighed and tightened the straps on his pouches and holsters. 

You were quiet, not really knowing if you should press into someone’s personal life. 

“I guess I should tell you, seeing as though I’m now responsible for your safety as well…” He said under his breath. “I had a pretty awful day yesterday, so I’m not the most sober person right now,” He admitted. 

You blankly stared at him, not knowing what he meant. 

“Uh….” He said sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m a little hungover right now, but don’t worry, I’ll still get us through this,” He said. 

That…still didn’t clear up what he meant. It was almost like he was speaking a foreign language from your reaction. You just stared blankly at him still. 

Moving onto other matters, you started taking off your scrubs, finally being free of the grubby, smokey fabric. As you did, you heard a yelp come from Leon. 

“Jesus! Let me know next time you do that,” He said, turning to face the wall. You could see the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were pink. 

You went about your business and finished changing. The women’s uniform came with a tanktop, the button up shirt, the pants, and the shoes. 

“A-are you done?” Leon asked, his voice slightly crackling and the pink turning deeper with the voice crack. 

“I think…” You said and looked down. You looked like a toddler trying on their parent’s work clothes. The way the fabric hung loosely would only make you slower, a liability. 

“Here,” Leon said and walked up to you. He crouched down to do something, then looked up at you. “Can I help you with this?” He asked. You nodded and his eyes looked over the uniform. 

He noticed that you had a tanktop on underneath so he got to work undoing the buttons of the shirt. “So, I told you how I got here, how’d you get here?” He asked 

You tried to think of a way to explain your situation. Even if you told the truth, would he believe you? He’d either ignore it, deny it was the truth, or worse turn you in. 

After all, you were property technically. And the longer you were gone, the longer you were technically “stolen”.

Your eyes flicked to the side and you decided to make up a story. “I was at the hospital… I had been for a while,” You said. It wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“Oh,” Leon said softly, his eyes meeting yours. They carried a sympathy that stabbed your heart for lying about being ill. 

“They were transporting me,” You said, looking at the floor. 

“And the helicopter was the one that crashed,” He said, recalling that you told him you were in the helicopter that crashed. 

“Yeah,” 

“Here, hold onto me so I can tie this easier,” He said. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, loosely, and he got to working on the clothes again. 

Leon had finished making adjustments to your uniform. He took the long sleeves on the button up and used them to tie the shirt around your waist. The pant legs were tucked into your socks and the bandages from your sprained ankle. 

“I’m no seamstress, but I did what I could,” He said. You removed your arms and offered a light smile in thanks. 

“Thanks, these feel better than what I was in,” You said. The feel of a different fabric than the same one you had been wearing for years felt odd. 

Not odd, just weird. 

“I thought as much,” He said. “I picked this up too, my girlfriend used to use them all the time. She would get upset if her hair got in the way of doing things,” He said and held up a hair elastic. 

You used hair elastics a lot, and luckily, this was the type that held your hair the strongest. 

“Thanks,” You said again and took it, putting your hair back and away from your face. This wasn’t the time to worry about looks, this was the time to worry about practicality. 

“Alright, now I feel better about bringing you along with me,” Leon said and smiled at you. “I won’t have to worry about you stepping on glass or anything,” He added. 

“Thank you,” You said again, your eyes meeting his. 

“Thank me when we get out of here,” He said and walked over to the door. “I’d give you a gun or a knife, but I don’t have anything to spare.” He looked at you sympathetically. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t even know how to use either one so it would be lost on me,” You reassured. 

His eyebrows furrowed a bit and he slightly tilted his head. “Really? Not even a knife?” He asked. 

You shook your head in reply. 

“Well then, I’ll just have to teach you when we get out of here. Or earlier if I have to,” He said and put his hand on the doorknob. “You still okay with following me around?” He asked. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Leon was the safest person you could be with right now. He knew where you were, at least more than you did, and he knew how to fight. It would stupid of you to say no. 

“Of course,” You said and nodded. “We’ll make it out of here together,” You added and lightly smiled. 

His concerned look slowly turned into a light smile and he nodded. “Yeah, we will. As long as we stay together, we’ll be okay,” He replied. 

Leon opened the door into the darkness, ready to get out of the locker room and plunge into the dark hallway. Ready to lead the two of you into whatever this hell would throw at him. He was more determined now, because he had someone that depended on him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic and others on my AO3

[tired-ticket-man]

cornflowers are veryvery pretty

[pulls a bunch of cornflowers out of my coat like a magician]

gift :3 x2

“I…. Thank you.”

[He takes the second bundle of flowers and holds it with the lavender]

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 4 : Original Spinet Theme

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me, lol).

Ao3 version.

Previous Chapter 4.

Commission cover art.

Cover art poll.

Chapter titles.

Fic playlist 🎵 💕 🎶 ✨️ <3

Cover redraw.

Enjoy!

Heavy rainfall pelted down from the darkened skies on a Sunday in the Connecticut town of Gravesfield as a husband and wife were inside their home, enjoying each other's company, their love untouched by the storm brewing outside.

"Hello, little gentleman," Cadman said in a gentle tone, greeting and accepting the little blonde bundle that his wife placed in his arms.

"Look at that little face of yours," the brunette man commented with a chuckle, brushing aside the tiny, developing lock of hair growing above his son's forehead.

"You're already maturing into a handsome young man." Cadman soon pressed a kiss on Caleb's brow.

Even though Caleb was a bit of a handful, he was still a welcomed addition to the Wittebane family.

Cadman was content with holding and singing small songs to Caleb when he wasn't too exhausted, even if Caleb sometimes fussed.

After a significant amount of trial and error, the father found that carving small gifts or taking his son outside to observe the cardinals perched on tree branches were the most effective methods of soothing him.

Patience, who was about to give birth to another child in eight months, smiled at the two and kissed both of their cheeks before gazing down at Caleb.

"You're going to have a little brother to love, play with, and take care of when you're older, Caleb. Isn't that going to be so much fun?" the blonde mother asked.

Caleb gurgled excited baby noises at that news, causing both of his parents to laugh.

The blonde was already a very lively and cheerful boy at only 5 months old.

...

Small, dotted eyes that are cornflower blue slowly begin to open as Baby Philip witnesses the faces of his father and brother for the first time while being held gently by his mother as she sat up in bed, her back against her pillow.

As all three members of his family cast their warm, sunny smiles down on him, Philip reacts to the love he's receiving like a flower.

His small smile grows immensely as his little baby hands reach up without hurry to touch his parents and brother, which causes them to roar with hearty laughter.

A montage commences as the laughter in the room transitions to the start of this song.

...

As Kid Philip bolts into his shared bedroom, Caleb follows behind him at a slower speed, wielding a quill in his left hand.

The brunette proceeded to press his back against the wall behind his room door as he stood up straight, smiling fondly at his brother as he looked forward, sweet blue eyes gazing into warm brown ones.

Caleb, smiling back at his younger sibling, placed the pen horizontally above Philip's head, its tip facing the wall.

Moving the tip across the wall, the blonde creates a short, straight mark over Philip's head.

After Philip steps away from the wall, Caleb begins to record both his brother's height and age on it, with his height being written on the left side of the mark while his age is written on the right.

4. 5 feet - five-years-old

…

The early summer sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky, casting warmth across the atmosphere as Caleb cheerfully assisted his mother in churning butter on their farm, her hands over his as they cranked away at the churner.

Chirp-chirp-chee!

As Caleb gazes at the trees on the other side of the farm, believing that's where the chirps came from, the short, soft trills continue as a bird with vibrant red plumage flutters down and finds a comfortable spot to perch on.

Chirp!

Looking to his collarbone, Caleb spots a small male cardinal on his shoulder as he beams, brown eyes filled with excitement and wonder at the northern bird.

Patience gave a small, sweet laugh at her son's excitement, smiling fondly at both him and the cute little cardinal that he had.

She moves her hand over to gently pat the bird's head with her finger, being careful not to mess up his smashing hairdo.

…

The churned butter is quickly incorporated into a combination of wet and dry ingredients to create a cake topped with strawberries for Philip's 6th birthday, which is quietly celebrated in secret among the family.

…

Philip and his father exited a shop on All Hallows' Eve as the full moon illuminated the dark night sky.

The new carving knife Cadman had purchased to carve pumpkins at home with his boys was put in his pocket.

The two then heard a chorus of slow, lifeless moans coming from behind them and stopped in their tracks.

Cadman and Philip felt danger approaching as they slowly turned around and saw dozens of deceased "witches" who had emerged from the dead, clearly seeking vengeance for their unjustified killings.

They were lumbering forward toward, in their eyes, two living sacks of human flesh that they planned to bite and have join in on their revenge crusade.

With wide eyes and a pounding heart, Cadman's instincts to protect his child quickly kicked in as he grabbed Philip's hand and soon bolted away from the pale green fiends.

Seconds later, Philip charges back at the death-dealing savages with his wooden sword, ready to send them all back to Heck where they belong, only for Cadman to bolt back after him.

Hurriedly snatching his son back with his right arm, Cadman takes off out of town, carrying Philip under his arm to prevent him from fleeing again.

…

With his boots and farm attire on, Cadman was ready to harvest his November crops.

His wife pulled out his brown leather hat from behind her back, placed it on his head, and planted a gentle kiss above his brow.

…

Cadman started cutting his crop stalks at a faster pace with his sickle as dark clouds surrounded the sky, not paying close attention to the sharp metal blade of his tool.

While working, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and the agonizing scream he exclaimed pierced the air.

As he slowly raised the hand he used to clutch his stomach, he noticed a dark crimson stain on his hand and quickly went wide-eyed.

He had a horrific look on his face as lightning flashed across the sky.

It was clear to him that his accidental cut could lead to more serious complications if he didn't return home promptly and have his wife take care of it.

As he stood, he made an effort to move quickly, but his injury was causing him to stumble while hobbling.

…

The furious storm continued into the night as Patience rested back in her rocking chair, reading a Bible story to her boys as they both listened keenly, sitting criss-crossed on the rug.

An urgent and loud bang on the door startled the three as Patience set her husband's Bible down and went to answer it.

The shrill scream from their mother caught Philip and Caleb off guard as she quickly rushed past them.

She directed the two to remain where they were while she went to retrieve a dampened cloth.

Although the boys had no idea what was happening, the sound of their father moaning in pain made their fret visible on their faces.

…

The dark, dreary skies matched the sadness that was brewing in the air as an undertaker laid Cadman's body to rest.

Patience sobbed heavily into her hands, unable to watch her beloved being buried as she and her sons stood on the side.

During her crying, her boys begin to shed tears.

They both clutch the lower half of their mother's dress, tightly holding onto the fabric as she wraps her arms around them for comfort.

…

Patience found it difficult to adapt to widowhood and life as an independent mother, but it was something she had to endure.

She frequently blamed herself for the death of her husband.

However, the presence of her boys made things less dreadful for her.

Caleb and Philip consistently assisted Patience with household tasks and always knew how to make her smile.

…

When Patience fell ill to an unknown sickness, it was up to Caleb to take care of her since he was the oldest child, with Philip occasionally doing what he could to help.

With the house's finances becoming more scarce, Caleb struggled to bring down his mother's fever, only with a wet rag at his disposal as Patience became more and more ill with every passing day.

…

One day, when Philip arrived home with a sack of apples that Caleb had instructed him to buy, he heard a faint echo of crying.

The reverberation spread throughout the hallway.

When Philip neared the dining room, he saw his brother with his head down on the table, wailing almost grievingly.

As Caleb slowly raised his head, he saw Philip and felt the weight of everything weighing heavily on him.

He stood up and ran to hug his brother tightly.

Philip was able to quickly understand what had occurred based on Caleb's emotions and was unable to move.

When the sack fell from his grasp and hit the ground, apples tumbled onto the floor.

Caleb was embraced with the same level of tightness by Philip, who quietly cried in his brother's arms.

…

At least Cadman and Patience were now buried side by side, as both Philip and Caleb couldn't imagine the two being apart even in death.

…

The death of their parents made neither boy want to remain in the house, as it was not the same without Cadman and Patience present.

Not only did the atmosphere lack the love of their parents, but the house's structure was starting to break down as well.

They needed a new house to live in.

…

Before they set off on their search for a new home, Caleb went into the chicken coop and said goodbye to all the birds that came into contact with him while Philip went into the stables.

Approaching his favorite brown stallion, the two proceeded to have a heart-to-heart as Philip reached up and gently ran his hand through the horse's mane while the horse pushed his nose into his palm.

A hug was soon given by Philip as he wrapped one arm around the horse's neck.

…

While the two brothers were walking hand in hand through the woods, they came across a brown wooden cottage at the end of the woods.

The wood was slightly worn, and shutters were dangling from their hinges on the two front windows, as observed by both of them.

As Caleb contemplated whether or not he and Philip should enter the house, an enthusiastic Philip ran toward the cottage.

Surprised by the sudden action, Caleb followed after, catching up with his brother as they entered the house.

Based on its current weathered condition, the wooden house seemed to belong to no one.

Well, no one except for the Wittebanes now.

…

At night, Philip had trouble falling asleep in his shared room as he heard Caleb's muffled cries, the blonde quietly sobbing into his pillow.

Caleb's current state left Philip feeling sad and sympathetic, prompting him to turn his gaze to the ceiling, fold his hands, and silently pray for God to bring his brother joy again.

Subsequently, he thanks God for taking care of the souls of his parents while they are in heaven.

…

Caleb awakens Philip the next day with a smile and eagerly urges him to get out of bed.

He wants to mark his height on their wall.

4. 6 feet - eight-years-old

Philip's growth excites both him and his brother as they cheer.

Caleb lifts Philip up and spins him around with joy, while the brunette giggles in delight as the music and montage come to a satisfying end.

...

"It looks like you're getting taller and taller every day, Pip," Caleb remarked with a sunny smile as he finished cooking breakfast for his brother on the black cast iron skillet.

He used the remaining flour, eggs, milk, and sugar to make it.

"Mm-hm!" Philip happily hummed in agreement with Caleb while seated at the dining room table with a wooden plate in front of him.

"Someday, I may even grow taller than you, Caleb," the brunette claimed with a great deal of confidence as he casted a playful grin, and his eyes immediately lit up at the the pancake being slipped onto his plate.

The cake was lumpy, as Caleb's always were, but Philip still enjoyed them nonetheless.

The blonde began to chuckle as he walked over to the water bucket and placed the used skillet inside it.

Returning to the table with a small glass bottle of maple syrup from the cabinet, Caleb poured the remaining amount onto Philip's pancakes.

Upon seeing the sweet, golden syrup flowing down on his food, the youngest's lips started curling up.

However, he noticed two empty chairs at the table, which were the seats his parents could have been sitting in alongside him if they were still alive.

His head began to swell with memories of them making the mornings more lively as he sighed, gazing down at his lap.

Caleb quickly noticed his fading smile and stopped pouring.

Philip soon felt a comforting hand gently make contact with his shoulder and slowly looked up to see his brother shining a small, reassuring smile at him.

Philip attempted to generate a smile of his own to reciprocate but was unable to do so.

"What's wrong?" Caleb asked, setting the syrup bottle down and taking a seat next to Philip.

Philip was quiet.

"Is it about... them?"

Caleb was aware that the loss of both of their parents was a sensitive topic.

Philip nodded slowly.

"Yes, and also...," he softly said before pausing, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

"It's school," he admitted with a soft sniffle before continuing. "It's not the same without you, Caleb. Without you there, the other children don't seem to be fond of or interested in being around me."

The news he heard made the elder feel terrible as he looked at Philip's sad face.

Caleb's role as the household's breadwinner forced him to stop attending school and start working various jobs around town.

Working excessively made him feel fatigued, but it was for the benefit of Philip.

Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother.

"I see...," the blonde said solemnly as he sighed but then managed to smile again.

"Hey, Philip," he began, wiping away his brother's fallen tears with his thumb.

"When you get back from school, let's play some of our favorite games together. I might even make you a surprise when I get back from working."

"Really?!" Philip gasped loudly as he sniffled, his smile reappearing on his face. "You promise?"

"I do," Caleb pledged, keeping his tone soft, as he and Philip proceeded to link their pinkies together.

...

"Are you all packed and ready for school, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip while standing at the front door with him.

Philip responded to the question with an energetic head nod while wearing his brown neck satchel.

He patted the bag twice with his left hand to indicate that everything he needed was inside it.

Caleb then quirked a brow and smirked with playful suspicion as he continued.

"You didn't include any dead birds or live snakes in your satchel, did you?"

Philip gave a simple smile before shaking his head.

"Philip..."

"I didn't!"

Behind his back, the brunette concealed his crossed fingers.

"I promise!"

Caleb smiled at his trustworthy little brother before opening the door, not feeling the need to check his satchel. "Good!"

He proceeded to embrace Philip tightly with love.

"Have a good day at school then," he whispered. "We'll see each other later."

The brunette hugged his brother back. "Okay, Caleb."

He hoped their hug would last forever, but as with all good things, it had to come to an end.

Once it did, Philip began his journey to school and turned to wave at Caleb.

"Bye, Caleb!"

Upon returning the wave, Caleb smiled. "Bye, Pip!"

Following Philip's departure, Caleb closed the door and headed for the stairs, needing to prepare for the busy day he knew he was going to have.

Knock, knock!

"Oh?"

Caleb proceeded to return to the door and opened it once again, believing that Philip must have forgotten something and came back to retrieve it.

On the opposite side, an older, familiar figure stood, gently holding a hen against his body.

He exhibited a lengthy white beard, tattered brown overalls, no shoes, and a brown hat that covered his bald head.

"Good morning!" Mr. Kookman chirped in a crackly and friendly tone, raising a hand up to greet Caleb while still maintaining a firm hold on his wife, Henrietta.

Yes, his wife.

She was a wonderful hen.

Mr. Kookman was the local kook and a neighbor to Caleb and Philip.

He resided inside the woods.

The man would frequently visit their doorstep to request essentials, such as...

"Could I borrow some spare breeches?" he politely asked as Henrietta clucked.

"Henrietta said good morning as well," Mr. Kookman informed Caleb with a chuckle.

"... Uh..." The blonde shifted awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head, shining a nervous smile.

He aspired to be polite, but at the same time, he was unsure about what to say.

...

Jesus Christ and one of his disciples, a name who went by the title 'The Witch Hunter Emperor', were casually ambling through a market.

The Emperor wore a large cape with white, brown, and gold trim under his Puritan attire, representing strength, righteousness, and purity.

As the two observed the fresh fruits and vegetables on display, the ground began to make slight movements, which soon became violent.

Citizens and sellers began to flee as panicked screams filled the air.

The shaking suddenly stopped, resulting in the appearance of a massive green serpent with small demon wings emerging from the ground.

The snake's menacing gaze is directed at Jesus and the Emperor, and it suddenly lunges at them.

...

"... And after they defeated the serpent with the power of prayer, Gravesfield is saved thanks to Jesus and his disciple, The Witch Hunter Emperor!"

Philip's smile beamed with sinless pride as he stood before his entire class, displaying his childlike journal illustration of Jesus and The Witch Hunter Emperor being tossed in the air by the cheering citizens for defeating the serpent.

"..."

The brunette was expecting a more boisterous reaction from his classmates rather than blank stares.

"Philip, can you explain what any of that has to do with the Ten Commandments?" his teacher asked with a tired sigh while sitting at her desk.

"Uh..." As Philip's smile slowly faded, his cheeks and ears blushed pink, and he turned away from the teacher's gaze and looked at the floor.

His tired teacher signed once more. "Go take your seat."

Philip quickly looked up. "But--,"

His teacher's sharp, sour expression instructed him to refrain from speaking back and immediately take his seat, which he did.

Despite some of his peers still choosing to look at him, Philip attempted to pay attention as another student was called up to the front.

...

After the teacher rang her handheld bell, the class was dismissed as students started to leave and go to the door.

As Madison was beginning to walk out of the school door...

"Hello, Madison!" A cheerful Philip did not hesitate to greet his crush as he popped his head up from the bush that grew on the left side of the school entrance.

He was intentionally waiting for her to come out after him so that he could ask her a question.

"Eee!" Madison's surprise was palpable as she quickly turned her attention to the bush on her left.

The redhead with her hair in a bun bonnet saw Philip.

"Philip?" she asked as she blinked a few times, wondering what the brunette was doing in the bush.

Philip nodded. "May I smell your hair?" he requested kindly with a smile.

His brother instilled in him the importance of using good manners.

"Uh... sure?" Madison told him tentatively as she leaned the side of her face forward, allowing Philip to get a whiff of her hair, despite his question to do so being odd.

Once he did, his face instantly lit up. "Madison, your hair! It smells so pretty!"

"Oh!" The compliment caused a bit of blush to appear on her cheeks as she smiled. "Thank you, Phil--"

"Did you take a bath?" Philip gave a smile as he thought his question was a flattering remark.

However, Madison didn't take it that way.

She let out an offended gasp, giving Philip a glare as she started to walk away, clearly upset by his choice of words.

"W-Wait!" Philip stammered as he stretched out his hand, not wanting Madison to go.

The redhead came to a stop on her leather shoes and turned around.

"What?" she growled with flushed cheeks, attempting to suppress her tears.

Philip opened his satchel and reached inside, grabbing the dead bird and living snake that were inside.

"L-Look! I have presents for you!" he shyly squeaked out as he smiled a nervous smile.

Madison's eyes widened at the two animals in his hands as she admitted a terrified shriek and quickly took off.

"You're weird!" she shouted while running.

Hearing those words echo in his head, Philip felt his heart split in two.

"Oh...," he softly said as he felt his shoulders and head drop, slowly letting go of the bird and snake.

...

Caleb walked along the path in the woods that would lead him to town.

'Alright then, Caleb,' he began to tell himself in his mind, his tone commanding and determined. 'Your first duty when you arrive in town is to help Mr. Town Minister.'

Caleb acknowledges what he mentally instructed himself to do with a nod.

Caleb's arrival in town triggers a montage of him working at his various jobs.

...

With buckets of soapy water and soaked sponges, Caleb and Mr. Town Minister started to remove the vandalism that was written all over the meeting house by an unknown witch.

The minister scrunched his brows and grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed away the impertinent insults that were written about him.

Meanwhile, Caleb had to bite his tongue to avoid laughing at the sentence that said, 'Mr. Town Minister is a doo-doo head'.

It could have all been inside Caleb's head, but he swore he could hear someone cackling a witch-like cackle in the distance, but he couldn't see them.

...

After the vandalism was removed, Mr. Town Minister thanked Caleb and presented him with his payment, which consisted of a basket containing a small pouch of coins.

...

An image of Caleb's basket slides down the scene, transitioning it to the town bakery.

Inside, Mrs. Doughberry hands Caleb a brown sack filled with expired baked goods and orders him to take them behind her shop to bury them.

Once that task is completed, his payment, a small slice of mildly sweet vanilla cake, is added to his basket as the scene transitions to Mr. Bartlett's horse barn.

Opening the stable doors while holding a pitchfork and bucket, Caleb's nose is immediately hit with the foul stench of horse manure.

He scrunches up his nose and grimaces, staying close to the wide, barn doors.

Although he didn't want to go inside, he knew he had to in order to continue sustaining his brother and himself, so he slowly entered and closed the doors behind him.

After the stables were free of manure and smelled a lot better, Mr. Bartlett dropped a small pouch stuffed with coins into Caleb's basket.

...

Caleb is seen resting his back against a tall tree in the center of the woods, using a scrub to gently brush the feathers of a calm Henrietta as she sat on his lap as if sitting on an egg.

Each brush stroke results in her releasing a soft cluck as she settles more into Caleb.

After the final scrub, Caleb walks over to Mr. Kookman and hands his wife over to him.

He beams and spins her with joy, taking note of her well-brushed feathers.

Tucking Henrietta under his arm, Mr. Kookman begins to take Caleb's payment out of his pocket.

Pulling out his basket from behind his back, the blonde receives a half-bitten woolen sock as his neighbor gives him a genuine smile.

Caleb smiles awkwardly at him, choosing to remain polite while thanking Mr. Kookman as the montage ends.

...

"Oh, Philip!"

Caleb was cheerful and upbeat as he opened the cottage door and stepped inside, holding his basket filled with earnings from a day of hard work as he closed the door.

Silence persisted in the air as the elder didn't receive a response.

'Hmm, perhaps he hasn't arrived home yet?' Caleb pondered to himself as he headed toward the dining area.

As the blonde arrived in the room, he suddenly gasped as he froze at the entrance, staring at the dejected sight.

The air was still with silence and sorrow.

"Philip?" A concerned Caleb called out quietly to his brother as he hurried over to the table, taking a seat beside him.

He placed his basket down before placing a comforting hand on his back, rubbing the area with great gentleness.

"What's wrong?"

No answer.

"Did something happen at school?"

No reply from the brunette.

After another brief pause, Caleb chose to ask another question, this one more well-considered.

"Would you like to have a discussion about it once you're ready to talk?"

Philip didn't respond right away, but when he did, he replied with a small sigh and nodded his head, which was down on the table.

"Very well then, Pip," Caleb whispered, managing to shine a small smile down on his brother.

"Take your time. There's no rush. Do you recall the surprise I promised to make for you when I came home?"

"Yes?" A silent Philip finally spoke, his tone soft and tearful.

"Well, how about you watch me work on it. As it's being crafted, you can make guesses on what it is. How does that sound?"

As Philip slowly looked up at his brother, his lips perked into a soft, bittersweet smile.

"That sounds like fun," he said, still thinking a bit about what happened between him and his crush.

...

With a bright smile and hands placed politely on his knees while sitting criss-crossed, Philip keenly watched his brother begin to add an eye hole to the wooden surprise he was carving for him.

"Oh, oh! I already know what you're making me, Caleb!" Philip excitedly exclaimed with a small bounce as he directed his finger at the progressing work.

"You're making me a mask!"

Caleb chuckled as he confirmed Philip's answer with a nod while seated on the sitting room stump, carefully sinking his knife into the second eye hole he was creating.

"That's right, Pip, I am," Caleb said, carving holes in the top part of the mask. "And I'm almost finished, too!"

"You are? Hooray!" Philip cheered, clapping his hands excitedly.

The elder gestured for the younger to hand him the two antler-shaped branches that were lying nearby on the floor, and once he did so with a giggle, Caleb attached them inside the holes like horns.

"Ooo, they look like mandibles!" Philip beamed out with a wide smile.

Caleb gave a chuckle. "Mandi-what, Pip?" he asked, puzzled by the new word.

"They're the mouthpart of an insect," Philip explained. "Beetles have them!"

Beetles were his favorite insects.

"Ooooh!" Caleb went in realization. "Hmm... I thought they looked more like deer antlers."

After a short-lived thought, he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess they can be both."

...

After affixing a string onto the mask, Caleb was finally done.

He smiled fondly at his creation, then at Philip.

"Look, Pip, I've finished your mask!" Caleb said, showing it to Philip. "Come try it on!"

Philip gasped.

"Oh, boy!" Springing toward Caleb, Philip took his new mask and placed it on his face.

"How is it?" Caleb inquired while watching blue eyes blink inside the rounded eye holes.

"It's..."

A shaky smile started to spread on Caleb's face as he watched Philip slowly direct his gaze to the ground in an almost eerie manner.

He didn't even notice his eye holes growing hollow.

Caleb silently prayed that his brother liked the mask.

"... Awesome!" Philip looked up to Caleb with a big smile, his eyes visible once more, which made the blonde breathe out a sigh of relief and wipe his brow.

"How do I look?"

"So cool!" Caleb complimented as he continued. "If a witch came across you, they would certainly perceive you as one of them."

Knowing that got Philip pumped, imagining himself as a great Witch Hunter General who managed to trick every witch he met wearing his mask before leading them to their deaths.

"Yay!" Philip beamed before speedily wrapping Caleb in a hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, so much, Caleb! Now we can play..."

"Witch Hunters!"

Both boys beam at the same time as they enthusiastically emerge behind a shiny pastel background filled with shimmering skulls and severed witch heads, with the words "Witch Hunters!" above them in rainbow glitter letters.

With Philip's wooden sword raised triumphantly in the air and Caleb, wearing his witch hat and cape during this moment, now raising his clenched fist, the scene transitions to the woods.

...

"Get back here, you speedy little witch hunter!"

"You'll never catch me, you fowl witch!"

Caleb, the wildest and most cunning witch in Gravesfield, was quite fast, but not as fast as Philip, the greatest and most feared witch hunter who ever lived.

A small, stealthy smile crept across Caleb's lips as he continued his mission to catch Philip, sharp brown eyes trying to pick out any sign of the hunter.

Caleb became more vigilant with every rustle of the leaves and trees, every crunch and snap of the twigs he stepped on, and every shadow that seemed to move independently.

Upon hearing a rustle behind a nearby bush, Caleb sprinted and was prepared to jump on it.

While running, he heard Philip taunt him from a distance and stopped, keenly listening.

"I'm not there, you silly witch. If you want to see me, you must go further," Philip advised, his daring voice echoing through the woods.

Caleb let out a giggle as he walked toward where he heard the echo.

This was by far his and Philip's most fun game of Witch Hunters yet.

"There you are, witch hunter!" Caleb approached Philip, who he saw standing on a small, rocky hill.

"So, this is where you chose to hide from me," he cackled, not paying much attention to the brown rope end that Philip was holding.

Philip shook his fist. "I wouldn't come closer if I were you, witch!" he warned, which only made Caleb cackle once more as he took another step.

"Oh, yeah?" the blonde hummed in a playful tone, holding up both of his hands as he was ready to cast a witchy spell.

Ominously wiggling his fingers, he asked, "And why's that?"

Caleb was standing precisely in the spot where Philip desired him to be.

The witch was oblivious to the fact that he had fallen into his trap with such ease.

Pulling tightly onto the rope end, the noose that was spread on the ground entraps Caleb as he loses balance and falls.

"That's why, witch!" Hopping down from the hill, Philip pulls out his wooden sword and raises it up over Caleb.

"Now DIE!" Philip roars, his eye holes hollow as he repeatedly plunges his weapon into Caleb's stomach.

The elder smiles broadly and closes his eyes, hanging his tongue out.

The "witch" was now "dead".

Placing his foot on the now "deceased demon", Philip takes on a heroic stance and wholeheartedly states, "Gravesfield is once again safe thanks to Witch Hunter General Philip!"

"Alright, Witch Hunter General," Caleb began as he broke character and opened his eyes.

"Time for us to play a different game," he chuckled with a smile.

...

A trio consisting of a woman in a coif and two men, one with dark hair and one with blonde hair, strolled smoothly through the town market.

As they began passing by a large wooden crate that was situated between two empty vendor booths...

PBBBT!!!

The horrendous sound immediately caused the three to stop, and they awkwardly shifted glances at one another, wondering who broke wind.

The woman, offended by the fact that the two gentlemen who were accompanying her would even assume that she would do such a sinful thing in public, begins to glare daggers at the two.

Tap, tap, tap, went her foot as she awaited for one or both of them to confess and repent.

When they didn't, the men both received sharp slaps to the faces from the woman as she huffed and walked away.

PBBBT!!!

Both men stared awkwardly at one another as they slowly backed away from each other.

Behind the crate, the faintest of giggles could be heard.

"I can't believe you convinced me to play such a game, Pip," whispered a giggly Caleb, who had just witnessed his brother blow the loudest raspberry. "It's so silly. If we get caught, we'll get into so much trouble."

"We won't," a giggly Philip whispered in a hushed tone as he pointed a finger at upcoming people. "Oh look, more people are coming, Caleb!"

Both boys began to form playful smiles.

A montage begins as various people pass by the crate that Philip and Caleb are hiding behind.

They hear a sharp and sudden raspberry, which they mistakenly believe is flatulence.

Their reactions, which were either confusion, shock, disgust, or embarrassment, cause the boys to chuckle quietly every time.

Caleb's chuckle attack is a result of Philip imitating a few of their reaction faces.

The boys continued to blow raspberries and softly laugh until the sky turned purple-black and was filled with stars, leading to the end of the montage.

...

"The sky sure is pretty, isn't it, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip.

The blonde found himself getting lost in the beauty of the night sky as he gazed upward, him and his brother still seated behind the large wooden crate.

"Mm-hm," Philip hummed listlessly in agreement, sitting with his knees drawn up as he gazed downward at the dirt, dragging his pointer finger across it.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked brightly across the night sky.

Upon recalling his mother's words about shooting stars, Caleb gave a small gasp.

"Pip, look, look!" The blonde beamed, pointing a finger at the sky while gently tugging on his brother's yoke.

"Did you see that shooting star? It flew by so fast! We have to make a..."

As his brother sighed, Caleb gazed down at him, and all the enthusiasm in his voice slowly disappeared.

"... wish," he whispered, a look of concern crossing his face. "What's wrong, Pip?"

Philip sighed once more. "Do you remember when you asked me if something happened at school while we were at the table?"

Caleb nodded. "I do." The elder wrapped his arm around Philip's shoulder, pulling him close.

"Well," Philip softly continued, resting his head on Caleb's shoulder. "There's this girl that I really..."

Philip paused, not ready to reveal his feelings for Madison to Caleb.

"She... I tried to give her gifts, but she ran away and said that... I was weird."

"I see," Caleb said, softly rubbing his brother's back. "And what were the gifts you attempted to give her?"

"A dead bird and a snake," Philip revealed calmly. "They were really nice."

"O-Oh..." Caleb tried to conceal his shock by curling his lips into a small, caring smile.

"Well, you really like to write, Pip. Maybe you can write her an apology letter. I'll even try to help you with it. In addition to the letter, you can also give her gifts that are more... suitable for girls."

"Like what?" Philip asked innocently, looking up at his brother.

"Like... flowers!" Caleb answered. "Girls really like flowers. It's possible that if you gave this girl some flowers, she would really start to like you."

"Really?" The brunette started to perk up, knowing that they had flour at home.

Caleb nodded.

"Well, she did seem to really like it when I told her that her hair smelled pretty," Philip said, reminiscing on the moment as slight blush dusted his cheeks.

"I then asked her if she took a bath, but that's only because there's no way your hair could smell that good if you hadn't bathed, right Caleb?"

Before Caleb could react and respond to his brother's statement and question, both boys fell silent to the sound of upcoming footsteps.

Slowly poking their heads up, they both proceeded to see the shadow of a cloaked figure about Caleb's height, but slightly shorter, dawdling down the walkway.

The figure appeared feminine and had fluffy hair under their hood.

"Who is that?" Philip whispered, in which Caleb shrugged in response.

When the cloaked figure abruptly stopped between the crate and a booth on the right, they turned their head to the left, and Caleb and Philip quickly sunk down.

The mysterious figure's footsteps approached, causing both boys to feel their hearts race.

As the figure slowly attempts to peer behind the crate to determine who is present...

"THERE YOU ARE, WITCH!"

The figure, alarmed by the shouting, raises their head to see Mr. Town Minister running toward them.

Without delay, they start taking off immediately.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" the minister shouted once more as the cat and mouse chase between him and the figure continued.

A loud, witchy cackle was heard by the figure due to their speed advantage over the minister.

'There's that same laugh from earlier today...' thought Caleb as he and Philip snuck off in the direction that led them out of town.

...

"... Did you see the way the minister was chasing that witch?"

As Philip asked his question, his blue eyes were big and bright with admiration while Caleb nodded with a smile and a yawn as both boys entered their home.

After the front door was closed, Caleb continued to follow Philip.

"He's so brave!" the brunette beamed with cheer as he and his brother were nearing the dining room.

"I hope that when I become a Witch Hunter General, I'll be just as good at hunting witches as he is."

"Yeah, me too!" Caleb said, his smile still present as he yawned out a second yawn.

As soon as they entered the dining area, both boys gasped and widened their eyes at the unwelcome guest in the room.

"Hey!" Philip's shout seems to attract the attention of the white-tailed deer near the table.

It froze for a moment before lifting its head out of Caleb's basket, fixing its gaze on the two children.

The boys and the deer's stares were short-lived as the woodland animal used its teeth to grab hold of the basket handle before making a beeline for the sitting room, which caused Philip and Caleb to gasp and quickly give chase after it.

Chaos and commotion dominated the atmosphere as rambunctious footsteps rang out from the running.

...

The Wittebane household was now in tune with the quietness of the night as faint and gentle snores could be heard in the sitting room.

Philip, Caleb, and the deer were sleeping in a cluster on the rug in the room, under a large blanket that was draped over them.

Meanwhile, the basket was atop the sitting room's stump.

[lizpaige]

sometimes i look back through my abandoned wips in google docs and read what could have been lol before i wrote the fireman!ronan au, I wrote a little meet cute where adam and ronan live in the same apartment building and the fire alarm goes off at 6 something in the morning. they meet outside when chainsaw the cat is meowing really loud (she's bundled in Ronan's jacket) and Ronan is in loveeeeee

enjoy the snippet under the cut i doubt i will ever finish it but 🤷‍♀️

He continued to scan the crowd until his eyes caught on a flash of blue. Medical scrubs. There were a few hospitals in the area that were only a couple Max stops away in either direction and it was a nice apartment building so he wasn’t surprised to see one of their doctors or nurses living here. When the crowd cleared a bit, his eyes traveled to the man’s face and… oh.

An inch or so shorter than Ronan, the man was tall, slender, but fit. His skin was tan, somehow in the Oregon climate, and freckles dotted his high cheekbones. He had fair hair, dusty brown with hints of blonde, that stuck up in places. He had bright blue eyes, dark shadows beneath them from exhaustion, and fair eyebrows that were pitched down in focus as he shuffled across the road. He was bundled in only a thin black rain jacket over his scrubs and his hands dug into his pockets. Ronan was so distracted by the man, that he didn’t notice him coming closer and he also didn’t notice Chainsaw chattering loudly and consistently, a little tune of discomfort. 

“She can say that again,” the man said with a smile, cornflower blue eyes on Chainsaw, then flickering up to Ronan’s.

Ronan felt like his brain went offline, slowly rebooting, calibrating, all while he stood there helpless in front of a hot doctor. 

“Or he…?”

“She,” Ronan’s throat was dry but he pushed through the pain. “Her name is Chainsaw.”

Chainsaw let out a low mrrrrrrow in acknowledgment of her name, happy that she was not forgotten about in the chaos. 

“Chainsaw?” 

Before Ronan could explain himself, Chainsaw let out another warbling caterwaul.

The man smirked. “Nevermind, I can see where she got the name from.”

They stood in silence for a bit, the man dug a dated smartphone out of his jacket and swiped to unlock the screen. Ronan averted his eyes, trying not to pry, but his pulse was racing. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the buzzing sensation of a crush so instantly and fiercely. He had hooked up with random strangers in bars and clubs, but that felt like just scratching an itch. This was an all-consuming infatuation where Ronan was desperate to learn everything about this guy. Maybe he should start with his name. 

“Ronan,” he blurted out, cheeks red, throat closing up already in embarrassment, but he soldiered on. “That’s, um, my name. Ronan.”

The guy looked over, blinking focus back in his eyes. “Oh, uh, I’m Adam.” 

Adam. 

“Are you like a doctor or something?” Brilliant, Lynch.

Adam ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing out some of the uneven ends. “I’m in residency,” he let out an exhaustive sigh and a weary laugh. “I just got home from a 26 hour shift and didn’t even get to take off my shoes before this happened.” 

“Brutal,” Ronan so eloquently replied.

[solargeist]

yeah and if we're talking non utah ghostbur has been getting so many kisses from phantombur and they giggle between each one. and phantombur has taken ghostbur to go see the meadows of allium and cornflower and took him to pet goats and they baa'd for like an hour and now they're in phantombur's little cottage listening to the radio and falling asleep to the warmth of the furnace as they bundle up against each other.

there is not a universe where ghostbur is unhappy. it is his birthday and he is the birthday boy and he is happy always. this is true and real and i'll bite anyone who says otherwise.

no Ghostbur angst allowed on this blog, everyone immediately doubled down on him being happy and gay 👍 I support it 👍💙