Almost no speech oneshot let's gooo
Prompt- 3
Main- Philza
POV- Third Person, varies
MY AU OF COLOURZAs
IMPORTANT INFORMATION- Dissociative identity disorder. Formerly known as multiple personality disorder, this disorder is characterized by "switching" to alternate identities. You may feel the presence of two or more people talking or living inside your head, and you may feel as though you're possessed by other identities. Each identity may have a unique name, personal history and characteristics, including obvious differences in voice, gender, mannerisms and even such physical qualities as the need for eyeglasses. There also are differences in how familiar each identity is with the others. People with dissociative identity disorder typically also have dissociative amnesia and often have dissociative fugue.
APOLOGIES IF I OFFEND ANYBODY IN THIS ONESHOT
_____
Phil had never felt so worthless.
He knows what he has done. And it would be strange if he didnt.
The bottom of his robe was dipped in a crimson liquid, though only the (previously) white shapes at the bottom had caught the colour in all its disgusting glory.
His clothes were sticky, stained with a dark tint of Philippine bronze even after countless washes after. It was sickening. The blood stained man would be lying if even he didn't think so.
He was so close to shutting down at this very moment, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
He fucking hated it
The blonde giggled to himself, kicking a small hill of dirt into a small crater as he plopped himself down. A set of tattered dark gray wings stretching with a pop as he pulled them out from under his cloak.
Nobody was online, he was sure of it. So why did he feel like somebody would walk upon this? The anxiety ate him up, the ever delayed shock spreading throughout his stiff figure. The once frozen man had started to shake as his breaths got shakier and shakier, small wheezes escaping from his mouth as it curled into a small grin.
It was like if his personality was slipping
He let out a strained heave of breath, choking on his own spit as he did so. He coughed harshly, tears escaping from his eyes. He looked like a complete mess; bloody snot leaking from his nose, eyes red by dust, and skin pale. He let out small laughs for breaths, the serotonin rush clouding his mind as ringing filled his ears.
Why did he feel so lightheaded?
He hiccuped, spots clouding his eyesight as his heart thumped heavily in his chest.
Why was he so scared?
_____________________
Greenza
A stupid nickname, he knew that.
He couldn't help but call himself that at times. The little voices nagging at the back of his head practically implementing that over his real name, as if he had forgotten it. He felt strangely neutral, calling himself that silly nickname. Strange due to the fact usually he wouldn't accept many nicknames- excluding Dadza and Phil, of course. He had taken a liking to putting a colour in front of “za”, like that one joke going around of putting “za” at the end of a sentence to make it funny. It had started when he had met Ghostbur, well, noticeably perhaps. He had no idea if he was being honest.
It started off as a joke, Ghostbur saying that green sure was his colour after his “stream” ended due to his kind personality, and how much he cared about life in some way. Any other in the vc at that time did surely agree in some way, Green just knew it. It was strange, at first, calling himself after a colour. He had grown to prefer it at times, sometimes even ignoring the others when they say Phil, until he realises they’re talking to their local Minecraft creator.
