Philza Oneshots

Your Life, My Ghost (1/2)

Requested by LittleAry_, @ShamioAmura and @AngstPlsThx

Prompt: Phil covers Wilbur after he set off the explosion. (Hope you don't mind me combining your requests into one-)

TW (trigger warnings): Death, grief.

Part 2 is now out, it is the chapter "Home (2/2)" :)

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"PHIL, I'M ALWAYS SO CLOSE TO PRESSING THIS BUTTON!" He yelled. Wilbur punched the wall near the button, clearly irritated and conflicted. Phil felt sadder at the sight of his beloved son. How did this come to be?

"I have been here, 7 or 8 times," Wilbur's raspy voice echoed through the small room. "They're fighting, Phil, they're fighting." He went to block the entrance, not wanting anyone else to enter.

"And you want to just blow it all up?" Phil asked, gently pulling Wilbur closer for a hug.

"I do, I do, I think.. ," Wilbur buried his face in Phil's shoulder. He didn't really know if he actually wanted to, anymore. It was a flurry of emotions.

Suddenly, his mind settled. There was only one thing left to do. And it was right in front of him.

"Phil, there was a saying.." Wilbur started, pulling away from Phil. Phil was still smiling at him, that bright smile that always seemed to brighten the mood around.

It hurt to think how that would change.

"There was a saying, Phil, by a traitor, a traitor once part of L'manburg- have you heard of Eret?" Wilbur quickly clarified, backing up slowly as to not draw the winged man's suspicion.

"Yeah." Phil's wings ruffled a bit as he nervously shuffled.

"He had a saying,"

His hand found the wood he had carved so dearly into the wall, the wood he had visited, 7 or 8 times.

"It was never meant to be."

"Oh my god."

And he pressed the button.

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"NO!"

As the explosion rang throughout the nation, Phil rushed to cover Wilbur before it hurt him. Just in the nick of time, he pulled Wilbur close and shielded him with his gray wings.

The wall burst inwards, the impact of the explosion knocking the two back. They hit the wall, Phil slumping slightly as Wilbur struggled to get out of his grasp and make sure he was alright.

Finally, he slipped out of his protection, and regretted it.

As he felt hot tears swell in his vision, he saw how gorey his friend's wings were, how injured he was, and there was just so much blood.

"Phil?!" Wilbur yelled over the ringing in his ears. Phil's eyes fluttered slightly. Wilbur held on tight to the winged man.

"I'm.. sorry I wasn't.. there for you-" His voice was raspy, occasional coughs in between his words. The struggle was visible.

"Phil, wait-"

He felt a hand on his cheek.

"Y'know, Wilbur-" A coughing fit overcame him before he continued. "I've always been proud of you, my.. little... m u s i c i a n . . ."

And as the survivalist's blue eyes shut, as his wings drooped, as his chest stopped rising, Wilbur was in denial.

But it was done. There was no saving him. And it was all his fault.

Philza Minecraft is dead.

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He saw it from afar. The shock of the explosion still haunted him, as he was frozen in place. The ringing in his ears still lingered for quite the while.

As it faded, he looked towards the now ruined podium. He could barely make out the shape of two men.

One with a beanie, and the other a bucket hat.

As the realisation kicked in, his body moved before his mind thought, pushing him towards the room he ever so hated. And he could hear footsteps behind him. Footsteps only a hybrid could make.

Technoblade.

They rushed towards the two men, afraid what they might witness may change their lives forever.

And it did.

Wilbur was just getting up from what looked like quite an uncomfortable position he was sitting in.

"Are you okay, Wilbur?!" Tommy fret.

But Wilbur simply stared at the ground, as if it were the most fascinating thing at the time.

And they saw it.

Phil.

Slumped against the wall. His eyes were almost shut, but even then they could still make out the blue of his eyes. And it was a shock. As they administered the other features, blood, injuries and the such, they finally accepted it.

His once beautiful blue, shiny eyes were lifeless.

And he was gone.

"We're making a funeral. I don't care how long he's been on the smp, whether it be two seconds or two years, we're going to make a fucking funeral." Technoblade argued, though it seemed one-sided, since no one was up to complain. There was nothing to complain about, anyway. It was definite. Philza deserved a funeral.

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Everyone on the smp wore black that day, although some of them may not have known the top-notch survivalist well enough, they needed to pay their respects for the ones close to Phil. And so they did. Even the new recruits.

Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy had gotten exceptionally close. And so you could see on the right side of Tommy, Technoblade, then Wilbur. And on the left, Ranboo, then Tubbo.

No one knew what to say. No one needed to say anything. They believe silence is the best peace. Words do not bring meaning. Feelings do. And no one was feeling quite pog that day.

"Why are you all upset?"

Tommy whipped around to see a small white-ish glow floating behind them.

A ghost.

"Would you like some green?"

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HI, SO SHORT PART BUT EH, HOPE YOU LIKE IT. MIGHT BE A PART 2 IF THE PEOPLE WANT IT 👀

SMALL EXPLANATION THO, UH, GREEN HERE MEANS THAT IT KEEPS PEOPLE SAFE FROM HARM (WELL, MINOR HARM ANYWAY-) AND GIVES GOOD LUCK.

Well, as always, let's calm down for the final paragraph you all know so well :)

If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider voting for the book, and don't forget to request a prompt in the requests chapter! I love writing your guys' ideas, it's always so PogU.

Happy reading, everyone! <3