Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a pleasant day. The sky was clear, there was a light breeze, really, it was the perfect summer day. The sun had just started it’s descent, casting a golden glow over the forest.

A being dressed in a layered outfit, veil, heavy cloak and all despite the relative heat, stood on the deck of a cabin in the woods, wings at his back. A crow perched on a branch let out a squawk.

The Angel of Lady Death Herself looked in bewilderment at the squirming bundle in his arms.

A babe with a mop of curly brown hair cooed back, wrapping it’s tiny hands around the Angel’s index finger.

What have I gotten myself into?? I’m not prepared for this , the Angel of Death lamented to himself as the tiny boy giggled happily as it stole the ring off of his finger and began to gnaw on it. 

“Hold on a moment there, ye can’t have that mate, you’ll choke on it…” He pulled the poor ring from the slobbery clutches of his disgruntled son. 

Oh gods above and below. His son. 

Philza was a father. To this tiny, vulnerable, helpless baby. The Angel of Death was a Father.

Philza protectively mantled his black wings around the two of them as he made faces at the kid to stop him from being grumpy over reclaiming the ring.

“Ya know if the wind changes your face is gonna be stuck like that forever?” a dry voice called out, as a wide-set figure came into view, turning the final bend in the path leading to the cabin. His red cloak was slung over his shoulder, a large tear marring it’s otherwise perfect condition. “What’s got you grimacin’’ like that, Phil?”

The Angel wordlessly held out the bundle in his arms, seemingly still processing the whole ordeal, as Technoblade climbed the steps to the house, easily settling at his partner-in-crime’s side and glancing as what the Angel was holding.

The piglin’s eyebrows rose. “You steal that thing?”

Philza spluttered, wings flicking. “Gods no! Who do you take me for, Techno, someone who kidnaps babies? It’s worse , old friend. He’s… He’s my son . I don’t know how to raise a kid! What in blazes am I going to do?”

Technoblade leaned over the baby to get a better look. The baby promptly stole his glasses. Philza broke into semi-delirious laughter as they tried to pry the wire frames from the child’s tiny hands before the baby got them into his mouth.

“Bruh, he’s gotten fingerprints all over the lenses!” Techno said as he finally reclaimed his property,  “I should dropkick him for that. Absolute gremlin.”

The babe only yawned.

Philza thwacked Technoblade lightly with a wing as he grinned, rolling his eyes. “No drop-kicking my son Techno, or I’ll stop making you tea every time you come over.” Philza turned on his heel and shouldered his front door opening, fondly beaming at his son. “Now c’mon mate, I got to put this ‘gremlin’ to bed, I can put the kettle on after.”

“Stop making me tea ? Phil, you wound me, not the tea -” Techno quickly followed, the door clicking shut gently behind him, cursing as the corner of his cloak got jammed in the door, “Wait, you’re still fixing my cape like you said you would, right-”

Chapter Text

Philza gently closed the door to his bedroom, the sounds of a sleeping baby being cut off with the doorknob’s click.

Sighing, Philza collapsed into one of the two plush armchairs by the cozy fire (coincidentally, the one he sat in had an open back, allowing the Angel’s large wings to be comfortable), Technoblade nursing a mug of hot tea across from him - the third cup that evening.

Technoblade glanced up from his novel, taking a long sip from his ‘Hades did nothing wrong’ mug. “What’s gotcha so worked up Phil? Is it ‘cause you don’t have a name for the kid yet?”

Philza scoffed, and hunched over, head cradled in his hands. "No, I think I've got something in mind for that it's just....it's..."

He trailed off.

The fire crackled, filling the living room with a warm, friendly glow.

The flapping of wings as a crow came flying into the room, settling on one of the many perches built into the house.

The clock on the mantelpiece ticked quietly.

The soft shf-shht noises of a page turning.

The comfortable silence stretched between them, for one minute. Two.

Finally, Techno huffed. "C'mon, Phil, I can practically see the cogs turning in your head. Spit it out before they jam."

Philza sighed in defeat, gaze drifting to the window, where crystal-bright flecks of snow clung to the dark windowpane. The first snowfall of the year.

“What if I’m a bad father, Techno? What if something goes wrong and I can’t fix it?”

Technoblade scoffed, bookmarking his page in his novel and placing it on the coffee table.

“Phil. You’re literally like, a god. You’ll be fine.”

Philza chuckled half-heartedly, wings ruffling. “That’s my wife, Techno. I’m no god.”

A crow landed on Philza’s shoulder and nipped at him until he started to half-heartedly administered ‘scritches’ the bird’s neck, to it’s delight.

“You literally speedran building a crib for the kid by cannibalising your kitchen chairs, Phil. It’s glaringly obvious you care about that tiny terror. If there’s anyone in the world that can handle the responsibilities for caring for a kid, it’s you. I mean what, you’re like over a thousand years old at this point, right? You could easily say you’re overqualified to be a babysitter.”

“M’not that old,” The Angel feebly protested, but his thankful grin and fond glance at Technoblade betrayed how much he appreciated the piglin’s support.

Chatters the Crow crooned in delight, squawking loudly “DADZA!” before Philza quickly shushed it, complaining it would wake the baby.

Technoblade picked back up his novel as Philza got out his sewing supplies to repair the tear in Technoblade’s cape. A hushed conversation continued between them, occasionally being interrupted by barely contained sniggering.

More crows flocked into the room, demanding the Angel's attention.

A baby of barely a year old slept soundly in the next room, hand clutched tightly around a toy.

Outside, the snow started to pile and the wind began to pick up, the first snowstorm of the year setting in.

Warm firelight lit up the cozy cabin in a warm glow, and all was well.