sleepy bois inc oneshots

death cannot be undone

Requested by writernook

TW: BATTLE, MINOR DESCRIPTION OF DEATH

Phil's pov after he kills his son

Angst/Fluff

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All he could hear were the screams of terror erupting from the former citizens of a fallen country. He did all he could to assist them, but he could not help but falter when meeting eyes with his oldest.

Everytime glistening blue eyes met harsh, bloodlusted red, Phil felt that each swing of his sword, each lift of his leg felt harder and harder to do.

I mean, who could blame him? He had just plunged a diamond sword into his son's torso and watched him bleed out in his shaking arms.

He kept fighting, however, and tried oh so hard to stop his mind from thinking back to the heart-wrenching action his own blood had forced him to do.

Even if he threw the sword away, his suicidal son would've found a way to dive into Death's realm whether Phil wanted him to or not.

Wilbur was so desperate to fall, and when he finally felt the sharp weapon pierce through his flesh, he knew he would be okay.

Phil, on the other hand, would have done anything in his power to have stopped Wilbur from harming himself if the younger hadn't forced his hand.

His son, his goddamned son had literally begged him to kill him. He had begged, nearly cried, for his father to do what he was admittedly afraid to do.

And as Phil slashed his sword, the same sword he'd used to kill Wilbur, into the Wither's rib and watched it quickly wither away, he knew there was nothing left to fight.

Well, besides Technoblade himself. But, the piglin and the avian both knew too well that the latter would never hurt the blood-thirsty netherborn.

That's why the hardcore "god" found himself sitting in the forest with Techno at his side. Neither of them spoke, for they both knew what had happened.

Phil closed his eyes, shakily exhales out of his nose. Techno could have noticed that Phil was acting off from miles away, yet he made no move to touch him, only willing to do so when Phil was alright.

Phil usually got irrational and tense while emotionally disturbed. So, he waited. He waited for his father, who we was willing to claim the world for.

It was only when the sky was dark and only the moon illuminated the woods, did Phil speak. "I killed him." He whispered, as if he was afraid of the world surrounding him.

Techno's eyebrows furrowed, and he slowly shifted into his human form. He glanced at Phil worriedly, and relaxed a bit when the older turned to look at him directly.

"You didn't want to. He..." Techno paused, and averted his eyes, instead finding the grass to be more interesting.

Phil hummed lowly, crossing his legs and leaning into Techno. That encouraged him to continue speaking.

"I should've helped him. I saw how he was during Pogtopia. He was awful, and I never did anything to help him." He said, voice quiet, a subtle edge laced into it.

Now, it was Phil's turn to furrow his eyebrows. He slowly picked his head up off of Techno's shoulder, and gently rubbed the piglin's knee.

The immortal avian opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He would've told the pinkette it was okay, it was fine that he didn't help Wilbur when he needed it. But, well, that was a very obvious lie.