Gray Lanterns

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hihihihihihi

Okay, so, I'm really happy people are competing in last chapter's Wattpad contest. We have 11 contestants currently, and they're all really good writers. I'm sure they'll be great :)

Anyway, i'M GEttINg mArrIEd-
You heard me, I'm married to Sellumae 😌👌

(she calls me her philly pls i cant- 🥺💕)

Anyway this oneshot was requested by her because I told her to as a marriage gift :)

Prompt: Just some depression angst :)

I will call everyone out right now when I say that reading and writing depression angst is fun. Get called out, angst cult.

Trigger Warnings (TW): Depression, insomnia, slight eating disorder, sleep deprived author :D

picture above fron twitter at:
https://twitter.com/cosmicguts/status/1355337085654343683?s=19

link also in comments :)
twitter user:
Leroy
@cosmicguts ↰↰↰↰
show some love to that artist!

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Why was he like this?

Of course, a surrounded person can always be happy. And he had friends, he was never lonely, and he was loved. Sure he had his moments of doubt and despair, but a normal person should get better, right?

...

So why did he feel so down all the time?

It was a constant battle. A battle to figure out how he'd fallen into this deep pit, a battle to pull himself out. It scares him because he doesn't even know what's wrong with him.

You do know. You just don't want to acknowledge it.

No, he didn't know. He couldn't know. But he just felt so sorrowful. Sometimes his mind would be cluttered with useless shit, but other times he'd catch some suggestive thoughts..

But he pushed them away everytime they resurfaced. And he would keep drowning them.

What happens if you give up?

...

That was a problem for future Phil. Right now, present Phil is still fighting to breathe. And he wasn't gonna stop, but that didn't mean it wasn't hard. It was very, very difficult.

He worried, not for himself. He worried for his friends, worried for their safety, and it didn't help him. The constant worry and fuss combined with mass amounts of stress from all the conflict took its toll, and is still taking effect. He worried, and wanted them to not worry. But would they even care if he disappeared? So he kept his mouth shut. To spare them the pain of worry. He wasn't worth the worry. He was the center of comfort, a father figure for those who need it, a brother and a friend. He'll fix it himself.

But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to do so, what's worse him not knowing what was his defective mind. His mind filled with-

Three loud knocks sounded at the door, most likely Techno. "Hey, Phil? We've got a little something to discuss."

He looked up from the chest he had been looking through; well, not really looking through, more of staring into it trying to burn the image into his mind and distract himself from the horrible thoughts that'd been forming.

"I'm coming," he replied, walking to the front doors and clicking the doorknob. The pig with a crown stood at the doorway, holding a notebook.

"What's up?"

"We're going to Dream SMP, Phil. The script was conflicted with another's and now everyone's confused. Most likely a sleep deprived scriptwriter."

Phil hummed in response, picking up a bow incase he needed to defend himself from hostilities.

Though, why would you? We both know what you really want, it's the perfect opportunity.

He did his best to ignore the degradations coming from himself, muddling his mind.

"Phil, you alright?" Techno asked with a hint of concern. Phil's face was clearly troubled. Had Phil let it show? He hadn't meant to show it, which caused quite the internal panic. His breath threatened to quicken, but he took a long breath and responded, "Yea, mate. Let's keep going, it's getting nighttime." And indeed, the Sun's setting, orange rays tinted the snow.

--------------------------------------------------

It turned out Ranboo's script had conflicted with Tubbo's script quite horribly, and they had to re-edit it because whoever had written it were clearly not in the right state of mind at the time, but they knew what they were supposed to write.

It was a struggle, sitting next to Techno and Wilbur the entire thing. Occasionally Techno would get up and indicate where the text on the scripting was that had to stay and what had to change. Ranboo needed to act for his lore at the same time Tubbo had needed to work his nukes, and Ranboo was needed for the nukes, it was just a mess. Quackity, or more commonly known as 'Big Q', occasionally would shout some other things Techno'd miss.

Phil watched as Dream possessed his temporary moderator body, 'DreamXD', and plop down a computer for the writers to rewrite the script. He guessed they'd just done a ctrl+v and moved the entire thing somewhere else in the timeline, and made a few tweaks.

Something whispered at him. He glanced around, trying not to look very suspicious and noticeable, otherwise his friends would worry, and then they'd be in pain, and it would be all Phil's fault, just as was his fault when he killed Wilbur-

...

He killed Wilbur.

But this is a script..?

...
A sharp tap on his shoulder indicated Wilbur needed something. "Phil you look kind of... unwell. Do you need rest? Should I ask to postpone the script for a few days?"

Phil waved him off, "N-no, no Wilbur, I'm fine, no worries." A not very reassuring smile formed on his face. Wilbur glanced back to the group in the middle discussing matters as everyone else started some lively banter with their neighbours. The supposedly dead beanie man walked over to Glatt, who immediately let Schlatt take over when he saw Wilbur approach.

Phil sat in silence, slowly delving into his crumbling mind once more, and being reminded of his friend's death over and over.

As he stabbed Wilbur, he knew he was supposed to act sad. But he really felt it. He knew it was a scripting. Why did he feel so guilty, why did his heart seem to threaten to explode from all the guilt? Why did he feel so cold, as he felt the taller's blood run through his hands and drip onto the rocky, charred ground?

The others had been slightly worried when they found Phil like this, and after the wars and streams ended, they'd explained thoroughly that Wilbur had accepted this part because he knew he'd still be alive, he just wouldn't play as much of an important role as his ghost did. As did Schlatt. But the winged man wasn't convinced. He spent weeks on his hardcore world after that, not wanting to return to the bloodshed and chaos of the SMP. Everyone had kept asking where he was, kept texting him to come back. He ignored them, wouldn't even open their messages, just swiped the notification away and continued building. His hardcore world. His own, little world, where he was 'God', where he was in charge and he could make anything happen. Where he wouldn't be told what to do and how to live by words on a paper. Moreover, his comfort zone.

It also helped when his so called 'counterparts' paid him a visit from their own world. Orange usually had his world of adventure and chaos, Blue had his world of civilisation, Pink looked over Endlantis, and the list continues according to their personality and likings.

The biggest issue was that when he immersed himself in the sad aura of his thoughts, he could barely hear anything on the outside.

"...il? Phil?"

The curtain separating him from reality dissolved, and the soft, far mumbles turned into concerned, audible calls. He blinked, once, twice, and focused on a strand of pink hair in front of him. The position he was in, he guessed he'd been sitting with his head buried in his hand and sulking. He didn't like sulking. It made him feel guilty, as if he was being too dramatic or was trying to unnecessarily seek attention.

"Hiya, mate," he greeted the pink-haired piglin hybrid and the endermon in front of him. Ranboo returned a short wave, smiling. Techno's hands had been on Phil's shoulders, maybe trying to nudge him into reality.

"We're leaving."

"Ah, alright." Phil stood up from the fallen log he was sitting, slightly stretching, some cracks and pop in his damaged wings visible. He hated allowing wings publicity, it made him feel disgusting. He glanced at them, seeing as they were starting to finally make some progress healing. He was afraid he might do something and slow down the process..

He tucked his wings into his coat to hide them from view when no one was looking, and followed his two friends to the snowy home.

--------------------------------------------------

A bit of walking eventually led to trident hopping and to walking once again, and it sapped all the energy from Phil (if he even had any left). The concealed bags under his eyes and his droopy eyelids said enough, he was glad no one noticed his tired state. Then they'd ask if he was doing okay, and if he'd gotten any sleep, and he'd have no excuse because he knows he hadn-

Stop it, Philza. They'll see. They'll worry. They shouldn't worry.

------------Past time------------

He could hear their angry yells, their sad auras masked behind their fury. He hid. His mother was never good at keeping secrets. His father was the only one who loved him.

The door slammed. As he peeked around the corner, his mother spotted him and dragged him out of hiding, throwing him onto the floor and the back of his head smacked the glass tabletop. A shallow wound opened, and blood dripped onto the yellow carpet. The house seemed darker, grayer. She picked him up again, and this time, he could not keep it hidden any longer. Just a jacket wouldn't do. His gray, small wings poked out the bottom of the jackrt, and his mother dropped him, eyes wide with horror and disgust.

"M-Mummy..?" He croaked hesitantly, his raspy voice slightly cracking due to all the times he'd cried.

She looked him in the eyes with wide, glistening pupils. His own widened, and he knew he was in trouble.

"Do you really l-love d..daddy?" He managed, his heart contracting at the risk he'd taken. Her head snapped to the phone, and she picked it up, pausing slightly.

"Just like your father. Go to your room." She spat. He stood still, frozen for a few seconds in fear. He was scared to come near her, as he had to go past if he were to reach his room. He stood, his hands clasping, eyes glistening with tears as he tried his best to hold them back. 'Don't cry,' she always told him, or he'd get a good beating.

"GO TO YOUR ROOM!" She yelled, and he ran past, failing to get past without a harsh shove, causing him to stumble and fall, quickly regaining his composure and rushing to his room as he grasped for he door and swung it shut with all his might, locking it.

He cried, and he cried, and he never stopped crying. The usual hics that followed came, and the hics hurt. He forgot how to sleep the past few days, worrying for dad ever since he'd seen another tall Mr.'s lips on Mummy's lips.

"Phil?" A soft voice said, breaking his moment of sadness, but only for a little. He looked up from his corner to see a pink and blue look alike of himself sitting next to him.

"B-blue? ...Pin..k?" He hicced. The two nudged closer, Pink wrapping his arms around Phil in a sense of comfort. Soon, many other look alikes, at least five other different colours joined in, surrounding Phil and nudging close, giving him a sense of safety. Even the red one.

At some point he must've fallen asleep. He jolted awake as he felt the safe aura slip away. His friends were gone. He heard a doorbell ring out, and-

"Hide, quickly!" Redza signed, gesturing for him to hide under the bed. Phil trusted him, maybe even trusted him most, and tried to slip under the bed. He could hear footsteps outside his door. The door unlocked. A feather drifted into his line of view and rested itself on the ground. He covered his mouth to hide his sobs. He didn't know who the other people were.

Feet stopped near his right arm. The chattering paused, all that was heard was breathing from many.

The person lowered themself. His Mum. She grabbed him harshly and dragged him out. He cried, kicking and flailing his arms around to try and get her off.

"We'll take it from here, Miss," he heard one of the new guys say, and something was forcefully strapped around his neck. A shock ran through his body, and he fainted.

--------------------------------------------------

He was tired. They were close to home. Only..a few hundred more blocks. He wished he'd eaten something in the morning, or had a proper meal other than some carrots or potatoes the past few weeks. His steps gradually turned uneven, his vision started to darken. There were black spots clouding his vision. He could see the house. Just a bit more, endure it Philza, keep going, they can't see, they can't see, ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ..

He collapsed onto the snow, the last of his energy finally wasted, and blacked out. Ranboo, being at the back of the group, called for Techno to make his way back.

"Phil!"

--------------------------------------------------

..where am I?
i'm not dead.. right?

...

n-no, i'm not.

...

is that really a good thing..?


no, don't think like that.

but who'd miss you, really?

...

He felt a nudge in his side. Someone was whispering into his ear. "Phil, Phil! Green!" They said the last part slightly louder. He couldn't move. His body hurt so much. He was so tired. He just wanted to fall right back asleep and never wake up, merely sink into the warmth and comfort of his covers. But he forced himself awake, forced endurance.

"Is he awake..?" He heard a voice say. It was strangely familiar. It sounded similar to his own.

"Yeah, look!"

"What goes to say he'll remember us?"

"...he will."

"Yeah, okay Mr. Smartass."

"Shut, weeb."

His eyes fluttered slightly, and he caught a glimpse of different versions of himself, all wearing bucket hats which sat upon fluffy, blonde hair and perfect, multicoloured wings sprouted from their backs. He missed when his wings were the same.

"I'm sorry.." He muttered. He didn't expect anything to be heard, but immediately the room was shushed and all eyes fell on him expectantly. Begrudgingly, he let sleep take ahold once more.

--------------------------------------------------

worthless.

what are you doing?

you don't need sleep.

why did you collapse?

you're being too dramatic.

˙ʇı ɥʇɹoʍ ǝɹ,noʎ
they hate you.

crybaby.

wake up.

they're worried.

failure.

freak.

wake up.

and say you're sorry.

--------------------------------------------------

He woke up, the comforting feel of his green coloured bed underneath him, the warmth of his covers. He threw them off, searching for his shoes and running to look for something- anything to do to make it up to his friends. He decided to get some wood. He grabbed his axe, sword and shovel. Strapped on his shield. They weren't around, or maybe asleep as he didn't hear any movement or chatter. He unlocked the door and shut it behind him, making his way to the nearby forest.

He heard a loud hiss behind him.

Boom!

The dog shed and the stasis was slightly damaged. Philza returned and looked through the chests for the materials needed to repair both.

He must have been slightly too loud when retrieving the glass. He heard footsteps from above, a cape being worn and then Techno was climbing down the ladder.

"Phil?" He asked, glaring at Phil disapprovingly. Phil stared at the ground. He knew better than to look back when he was given a glare. Techno was disappointed. Phil was taught to stay quiet unless spoken to in such situations. And even though he knew he was older and independant now, he couldn't help but let those routines run free once more.

"Phil, why won't you look at me?" The piglin hybrid's voice softened. Phil shut his eyes, not wanting to look. "Just get it over with," he whispered.

"Get what over with?" Techno asked, confused. "Phil, is there something you're not telling me?"

His eyes threatened to water.

Don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcrydon'crydon'tcry-

He felt arms wrap around him and pull him in tight, and he broke. Tears streamed down his face as let loose all his cooped up sadness and sorrow over the past few months. He hated the struggle. But he couldn't free himself.

And now?

He was almost free.

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HI 2788 WORDS IM SO PROUD, THIS IS A LONG ONE :)

RANMAE AND PHILZANDY SUPREMACY (me and sellumae-) WE GOT MARRIED POG

PLS ITS FUCKING 2 AM HELP IM HAVING A STROKE

HVE FUN READING
HAPPY READING <3

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