This is based off of Sleepy Bois Inc. 

Not cannon, like at all.

enjoy <3

This is where I have been, sue me.

blood n stuff here

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Screams ripped through the air, filling the silence that once took over the land. Citizens trying and failing to escape the blasts from the withers. The ground shook, buildings fell, the ground rose from beneath them. They all knew their king "wasn't sane" as the nobles put it. He had no desire to rule over his kingdom any longer. He was Heartless.

Phil smiled as he watched the twins play. They're only 14 and yet they've been through so much. He turned his attention to his youngest. Tommy, only 9 years of age and yet has lived through a "heartless" king.

Families cried as they were ripped apart, others watching their fellow citizens being thrown into the air and fall to their death by the dragon. There were very few that survived and even fewer families that managed to get out alive. None were uninjured.

Phil hummed as he moved a chess piece. "Do you remember what I taught you?" He only got a nod from Wilbur. "They're like chess pieces. Each and everyone of them are under your mercy, do as you please but not enough where they revolt." "That's correct."

A father panted as he cradled his three children. They managed to make it out and into the bunker before the TNT could explode. He focused on telling them stories of dragons and kings to settle his overwhelming guilt.

Phil hummed as he helped his eldest son by two minutes plant TNT under his kingdom. His son was 16 when he created the kingdom, 17 when he acquired the nickname Blood God. 18 when he decided to blow the place up. Phil will do anything to make his sons happy.

A father cried as his wife died, gently holding their youngest son as other sons cried and begged for their mother. His queen was gone. All due to this stupid kingdom.

Phil watched as his oldest left. He finally left the warm cottage in the middle of the artic. He went to Hypixel, a big city just a bit away from an upcoming dreamsmp.

A father flew for hours, wings sore from the hours without a break and for carrying his three growing sons. They were thrown out of their home. Why? Because he had wings. He flew for hours with little breaks, he had his sons pack the essentials and what they deemed Important before booking it at dawn. No one would find them where they were heading. Only fools searched for someone in the Artic.

Phil smiled sadly as he waved to his two sons. They finally decided to leave to the uprising dream smp. It only took a few years before the smp was habitable. Phil was happy his sons finally left but saddened. He was alone again. Just like he and his wife all those years ago.

A father smiled at his sons, all happily playing in the snow. Red cheeks and noses, big smiles, loud laughter. "Blood for the blood god!" And "techie, take it down a bit!" Would be said every so often. He loved his family. The only person missing was his amazing wife.

Phil cried. He screamed and cried. He hated this land, the people, the kingdom, the government. They had taken his son away. His precious son. The son that looked so much like his wife. His baby. His little musician. They took him. He hated the dream smp. He hated everyone who dared stay loyal to the people who helped kill his son. The nation was gone. He saw it explode with his own two eyes. His son, his dead son, had finally followed in his footsteps. He never thought he'd hate the government more than he did the moment he decided to blow his own to smithereens.

A prince, no, king, frowned at his people. They were all useless. The nobles especially. Make the peasants work day and night thinking it'd make him happy. How pathetic. How terrible. He hated Nobles.

Phil smiled at his oldest and youngest, both having a snowball fight. He smiled even wider as he was hut with nostalgia. "Blood for the blood god!" And "Techno, calm down a bit it's only a snow fight!" He missed this. He loved them. If only his middle child was here. His precious, dead, beautiful little musician. If only Wilbur was here.

A king smiled at his queen who held the hands of their twin sons. Both looked just as beautiful and amazing as his wife. He knew they'd both do great things in life, no matter what path they chose. If only he knew the birth of his youngest would cost him his wife.

Phil smiled, a crooked smile, as he watched New L'manberg explode to smithereens. Just like his kingdom, just his oldest sons kingdom, just like his little musicians nation. They had taken his precious, beautiful little musician. They almost took his precious soldier. His amazing soldier. They almost had his precious, beautiful, majestic son. His little king. They almost got to him with their filthy, power stained hands. Hands of a noble. He hated nobles.

A father smiled tiredly at his sons, his precious little bundles of joy. All passed out and cuddling on a bed. His bed. He loved them with Every bone in his body. He hopes his wife is proud he managed to keep them Alive this long.

Phil huffed and he watched Quackity's blood stain the grass. He watched as so many more came to meet the same fate. It's not his fault they were in his path. It also wasn't his fault when he couldn't bring himself to kill his grandson. He loves his grandson, the only thing he has left of his little musician. He let Fundy live, he knew it'd backfire on him. Wilbur did teach Fundy what he knew. What Phil knows.

A mother and queen smiled at her little princes and sons. She laughed at her husband and king. If only she'd knew what would become of them. Chaos runs in the family, flies through their veins. No amount of leech therapy would ever change that.

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Hope you enjoyed <3