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My Sons - Philza

Request: philza angst ;;;;;

A/N: bestie why. who hurt you. also this is in an alternate sort of universe where the stasis chamber hadn’t worked and Wilbur never revived after Ghostburs death, and also Tommy never revived either.

Theme: very very angsty.

Warnings: content mainly contains talk of death and gore in detail. Also, some strong language. Be warned.

Characters: c!Philza, Y/N, c!Wilbur/Ghostbur mention, c!Tommy mention, c!Techno mention.

How could he have known?

How could he have possibly known all of his sons would just leave him?

How could he have known it was his fault..?

Philza sat with Y/N, his only remaining child. They were stringing flowers into a crown, oxeye daisies formed into half a circlet, as they were still working on it. He watched them carefully, his mind running through every scenario that could have - should have - happened instead. 

He’d lost Wilbur once, by his own hand, but once Ghostbur had been reported dead as well, the guilt felt even worse. Dream had said Wilbur would be revived once Ghostbur died, but here he was, with no son, and no ghost of son. Must the world be so cruel?

Then there was Tommy. Tommy, who was always very, very vocal about his opinion, who always nagged at his brothers, who simply was loud... but loved. Loved all the same. He made mistakes again and again, up until the point where his will was exhausted. His voice rang no more. He was reckless. He’s dead. He will never come back. 

Meanwhile, Techno had survived past Phil’s other two sons, yet... he was no longer here either. After getting his son’s will, Phil tried to make the stasis chamber work. He tried to make it work but it failed. It didn’t. Techno died that day to Quackity in the prison, because Phil had somehow messed it up. The Syndicate had been one hundred percent sure that the stasis chamber would work, but when Techno needed him the most, Philza Minecraft failed him. He’d failed them all. 

Now here was Y/N, who would most likely follow the trend without trying. They were already at two lives, and their family was always being threatened. Always the brunt of some sick joke they didn’t know about, until everyone was laughing but them. 

“Y/N,” Philza mumbled softly, “I’m sorry. In advance.” 

“For what?” Their head popped up to look at their father. Curious eyes peered at him.

Yet... he didn’t have the heart to continue his thought. “Nothing, sorry. You can go back to your crown thing.”