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#c!philza neg
sparkleduo · 10 months
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I don't really like the idea of Q!Phil being C! Phil because C!Phil was honestly a shit father and person to his son c!Wilbur who he infatalized and brushed off often. Plus he also called C!Ghostbur who was his dead son's ghost as doll despite him being fully sentient and also made c!Tommy burn his golden apple ; a comfort item given by to him by his dead best friend C!Ranboo to "teach" him a lesson about how attachments on material don't matter when he had long since had learned that since the beginning of season 1. Plus when he also canonically made fun of c! Tubbo's scar due the fireworks. It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth to think C!Phil could ever be trusted with kids ever again in any life he could ever get again.
I just think the cc!s shouldn't really be dsmp truthing their characters after that bad written and rushed ending that left a bad taste in several survivors of abuse mouths. I just think dsmp should be burried away from the qsmp as a separate story from the qsmp where none of characters are related it.
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go-learn-esperanto · 2 years
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I know we keep talking about this over and over but I still can't get over C!Philza criticizing C!Tommy for hesitating between Tubbo and the disks. Tommy might have hesitated but he chose the right choice in the end, Philza on the other hand, when presented with his suicidal son asking to be killed, hesitated and still chose to kill him.
This can go together with my favourite clip of Philza telling Tommy to "be nice" to Wilbur and Tommy just looking at him like ??? And straight up responding "You killed him". Because "be nice" is a good thing, but coming from the man that tried to justify his actions by calling Wilbur, his son, a terrorist (when last I checked Philza blew up L'Manburg too), treating Ghostbur like he wasn't really a person and not feeling any remorse for the pain he caused him... and then he has the audacity to ask Tommy to "be nice".
*Shakes C!Philza violently*
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cmyknoise · 2 years
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Wait what did Phil do? (Not killing Wilbur I am not that far out of the loop I swear)
Doomsday. Destroying the only physical thing Wilbur had left behind and doing it under the excuse of being in his name, when he'd truly only done it for Techno and his misinformed beliefs about L'manburg because he never bothered to ask. He destroyed all the history books Wilbur wrote and kept. He destroyed his home and the thing he'd built up and wrote about and even felt the need to lie about hoping Phil would be 'proud'. The way he treated Ghostbur, who was still Wilbur, with distain and the way he brushed him off and his feelings off as if they weren't real because Ghostbur wasn't the 'real' Wilbur.
The way that, even when Wilbur WAS revived, and all Wilbur wanted to do was do a project with Phil (burger van) he told him to run away and go play with the neighbor kid and didn't even want to help with a task Phil already had farms for. He also threatened to kick him out of the house. This is directly after his revival and not long after he'd woefully poured out his feelings about how he felt so bad for what he'd done and how he missed Wilbur dearly.
The way he called Wilbur's final moments akin to a toddler throwing a temper tantrum because they didn't get what they wanted. The way how time and time again Wilbur goes to him and Phil never notices the red flags, how he goes to him and the advice Phil gives him worsens everything, but Phil never checks in on his progress or even bothers to ask if something is wrong because Wilbur's questions are suspicious.
The impact he had on Wilbur in general, the stuff that has been talked about how Wilbur was raised/what he was taught/believes that align with Phil and how that directly caused a ton of c!Wilbur's present issues.
I'm not even going to touch on how c!Tommy is very vocal about Wilbur being his brother, and vice versa, and how Phil adamantly denies Tommy as anything close to his son, and had little care about his well being in most situations, and was inclined to brush off anything Tommy ever said (about dream, exile, l'manburg, wilbur, & otherwise). Phil didn't have to treat or even consider Tommy as his son, but he was well aware of how close Tommy & Wilbur were, and chose to treat him how he did anyway.
I'm also not going to touch on how he treats his actual biological family, such as Fundy and his disownment of him and the way he proceeded to treat him with pure and utter distain and hatred over being involved in an group that 1. he didn't lead 2. aimed to get revenge against a man who'd shot the hypothetical first shot. Fundy tried time and time again to apologize to his grandfather for being apart of something that he didn't even take a central focus in. Phil forgave one of the main perpetrators and absolved Ranboo of all blame because of his memory, yet couldn't give Fundy benefit of doubt or at the very least talk with him over why & what occurred.
He's not done anything new don't worry, the last stream he did for dsmp was just hanging out mainly. I'm just having feelings about certain characters, past actions, y'know. It's a lore drought so I'm thinking about past stuff again.
c!Phil said he felt awful about his son dying, and he repeats this time and time again. "They killed my son! L'manburg killed my son!" Him mourning his son's loss, keeping his photos, harboring misplaced anger in the wrong people.
So I hope he still feels awful. Just because Wilbur is alive again doesn't absolve him of killing him in the first place, and everything he did after (and implications of before). I hope c!Phil carries the guilt of what he'd done for the rest of his immortal life. I hope he realizes he's continuously given Wilbur reason to push him away, and yet he doesn't fully. He's given Wilbur every right to simply never speak to him again.
c!Phil has consistently had ignorance over main events of the dsmp and it has gotten to the point where it's willful, he simply doesn't care, whether it's because he's immortal and this is but a blip in his lifetime, or he can't be bothered who knows, I don't, I don't care, it's not an excuse.
c!Phil is an abysmal father and has done awful and terrible things to his family and those closest to his family. He says he feels bad and I hope he does and I hope he harbors those feelings forever and ever.
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glowwormcave · 2 years
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hate it when people say "c!Phil HAD to kill his son" no the fuck he did not. you know he could've just. Not killed him? like that was an option. it is wayyy easier to not stab someone than to stab them. he chose to do it. he literally just showed up randomly and killed his son cause he was asking him to Like ??? thats it. My son is acting strangely and he is asking me to killhim and literally gave me the sword. Clearly the correct choice is to kill him. like that's it what. cphil can is and will be sad over that and feel guilt but that doesn't negate that he....FUCKING murdered him?!!?!?!? himself ?!?!?!?!?! with his own hands.??????
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Actually, shout out to all of us who are still on our c!techno and c!philza hater grind. I just read up on some old meta and my resolve to give them the most awful time (so they can get character development for the better) in my fanfic has been renewed
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sherpaherp · 1 month
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At this point all I can say is if you don't watch Philza your opinion on Q!Phil means nothing
Sick of seeing people say that Q!Phil is a bad person and taking cc!Phil's obviously ooc moments as 'proof'
'i can't believe q!Phil just laughed at q!Tubbo's death in front of Sunny'
I can. Because it's Philza. Because it's block game. I'm sorry that your heavy rp moment on Tubbo's side was someone playing a video game on Phil's side
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blankweiss-sb · 9 months
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Gift "Drabble"
For @hiding-in-the-vault
TW: Prison Arc + Post Prison, references to torture and eye removal
Summary: Eventually, Dream found a cave and hunkered down. He didn’t dare making a fire pit, didn’t know whether he could, but it would surely reveal his position. Instead he curled up in the warmest, most wind-safe spot he could find – and slept.
Or
Dream doesn't escape unscathed – mentally or physically.
The red stone pistons fired, the deep grumble distinctive from the ever present hissing of the lava. Dream didn’t dare lift his head or move his cheeks from the grimy, sticky floor of his cell.
Rule number whatever: Either be on your knees head bowed, or you better not have moved from the position Sir left you in.
Was Dream slightly bitter that even thinking Sir immediately called up an image of Quackity and tides of fear and anger? Yes. Would he show that bitterness? No. (Maybe Quackity would think he’d finally broken Dream but he hadn’t. Dream wasn’t quite broken yet, just brittle and fractured. If – when he got out, he’d just pour gold into all those cracks.)
Faintly, Dream heard it – the rustle of small feathers that could be crushed so very easily, the tapping of fingers against the wooden handle of a tool or weapon and a slight hum, the hum of a song Sap had loved. The lava curtains gurgled – please, red stone, fail, a moment of weakness gave itself a voice – before it fizzled out.
Sir bounced into the cell.
“Hullo, Dreamie, how are you? Comfy?”
Dream knew better than to answer. Quackity didn’t care, he just loved the sound of his voice too much. If Dream was lucky, Quackity would gloat, maybe kick Dream a couple of times and leave. That, Dream could endure, he could endure anything, anything but –
Fingertips stroked along the curve of Dream’s face, the one not pressed against crying obsidian and sticky maroon, and it was only the terrors of existence that prevented Dream from flinching. But nothing could have prevented Dream’s throat from releasing a whine when Quackity gently carded through Dream’s hair, almost petting him like a beloved dog.
“Awww, you’re doing good but being greedy, I see.”
Fuck you. Fuck you, Quackity, Dream thought as his head leaned into the comforting touch Sir was offering. It was his body seeking comfort, not Dream. It was his body being pathetic, wanting his torturer to be gentle. It was his body. Not Dream.
“You can be cute. But that’s not why I’m here, not today, puppy!” Don’t call me that. “I’m giving you a gift, look –“
Quackity burst out in little giggles, giggles Sapnap used to gush about. Sapnap had called them more adorable than a baby piglin. Dream had teased him about that, by that time already missing George pressed against his side and joining in on the fun. Teasing his brother had always been one of Dream’s favorite things and George loved to needle Sapnap, too.
A sharp of burst ripped through Dream’s skull as Quackity’s hand grabbed his hair tightly and pulled Dream up until Dream’s scalp was burning. “Listen to me.”
“Yes, Sir.” Two, three seconds more and Quackity let Dream’s head fall, huffing.
“And here I was about to clean you up, wash you, but no. You had to be bad. A bad puppy.” Dream flinched and Quackity’s laugh was more than delighted, echoing between obsidian walls. “Anyway, here you go, you’re going to need this.”
Something cold settled on Dream’s face and – comfort washed over Dream as he realized it was the cold porcelain of a mask, a mask Dream knew quite well. Greedily he sucked in some air and through the stale scent of copper coils and bracken water and burnt out embers, he caught a whiff of earthy flowers.
(“Earthy flowers? Are you serious?” Dream had laughed, pressing his shoulders against Sapnap’s. George had already been snoring, his legs hanging over Sapnap’s lap and his head nuzzling Dream’s stomach.
“Man, you asked me how you were smelling. Earthy flowers. Deal with it, it’s sort of disgusting.” But the tips of Sapnap’s ears had been a brilliant red.
“Someone’s lying~ But that’s ok. I like your hearth embers and George’s bark and petrichor, too.”
“Pe – tri – chor,” Sapnap had mocked. Yet he had relaxed into Dream and – they had slept, together and bonds untorn.)
It was Dream’s mask, not a replica, but his own.
Despite this meaning nothing good, Dream sank into old comfort. The safe feeling was soured by Quackity once again running his hands through Dream’s hair. “Things are going to get exciting,” he crowed, no, that’d be an insult to the death goddess and her harbringers, Quackity quacked. “Better to keep a few things mysterious, right? I’ll be generous and let you rest up.”
Dream didn’t know what Quackity meant until the next day when the pistons fired up and someone swaggered over the bridge. The bars slammed down, Techno grunted as he sprung the trap and it clicked in Dream’s mind.
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Time passed.
Sir didn’t enter the prison.
How Techno didn’t realize one tiny but largely important fact was beyond Dream but he couldn’t help being grateful.
How Dream managed to escape with Technoblade was also beyond him.
(Sir had managed to shatter Dream – after Technoblade vanished. Sir had not only dug into all the cracks he’d made but also ensured that not even respawning would ever give back Dream’s sight. There had been a slight, incredibly miniscule chance that Dream could have regained his eye sight but… hard to do that without the vital part of eye sight.
Sir had left Dream cold and raw and – there had been moments.
Dream had even hallucinated at one point, must have imagined trembling hands cleaning him up, a lullaby he hadn’t heard since he was ten being sobbed against his ears and a determined vow being seared against his temple. The voice had sounded like Bad, but Bad hated him, guarded him even, offered suggestions like Dream’s loathing of being alone in the dark to Sir. )
“I refuse. You have done more than enough, he can look after himself now.” The coldness in Philza’s screech was more than biting, was cutting when Technoblade didn’t refute his statement.
Once again Dream’s weakness took over and he wasted a minute on hope, begged Technoblade without the right words or gestures but surely, surely Technoblade picked up on it – “See ya later, nerd, stay safe.”
I’m not seeing anything, settled heavy on Dream’s tongue but – Philza was there, feathers scraping against wooden planks. He must be flaring his wings before refolding them. Rinse and repeat.
It wasn’t pride stopping Dream from saying those words. It was Caution. Philza already was irritated with Dream – Dream, objectively, had harmed the man’s family greatly and in various ways. And in an altercation, there was no world in which Technoblade wouldn’t side with Philza.
So Dream bowed, once, the proper Admin way, and darted off into the forest, barely hearing a sudden intake of breath behind him, probably Philza’s. Technoblade wasn’t an Admin, he wouldn’t have known what Dream’s bow had meant.
They didn’t chase after him, anyways.
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That first night Dream almost died five times.
The server refused to reconnect to him – a weak Admin was something no World wanted, vulnerability was undesired – and so Dream had to trust his ears and nose, rather than an innate sense of the World.
Twice the rattling of Skeleton bones was barely enough to get ready for the screeching of arrows flying through the air and aiming directly at Dream’s heart. Muscle memory was, thankfully, enough for Dream to land crits against the Skeletons, even though his own frame didn’t differ much from the Skeletons.
Once a zombie almost ripped into Dream’s leg and would have infected him. Dream was already on the ground, having tripped over a root and landing on a patch of ice that sent him careening through the snow. He’d been contemplating just curling up and sleeping when the zombie fell over him. A kick and crit had taken care of the zombie.
Twice, the environment itself, the World – hadn’t that smarted – had turned against him, giving him no warnings as ravines opened up in front of him. Only hearing the echo of stones crumbling and falling, falling, falling before the unbreakable hit the bottom and shattered into a thousand pieces not even gold could glue back together had warned him.
Eventually, Dream found a cave and hunkered down. He didn’t dare making a fire pit, didn’t know whether he could, but it would surely reveal his position. Instead he curled up in the warmest, most wind-safe spot he could find – and slept.
That first night ended and his first day in freedom dawned – judging from the birdsong sneaking through the tree leaves and into Dream’s cave.
Dream didn’t have the energy to stand up.
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More hallucinations haunted his sleep – if it was sleep. His body felt too heavy, his thoughts too hazy for him to be sleeping but – at one point, the hallucination of Bad took root in his mind. Dream heard Bad coo, felt Bad heave him into a bed that Dream certainly hadn’t made, cried while Bad tucked him and drew covers tight around him.
“Sleep tight, good dreams will arrive, cupcake,” the hallucination’s voice quivered as rough, scarred fingers slipped underneath Dream’s mask and tugged it off. The hallucination wanted to card through Dream’s hair and it did, detangling the knots, casting Dream’s drifty mind back to the days of happiness and – “Shh, Clay. I’ll protect you, don’t worry.”
Dream wailed, his throat giving out on him. All the while, the hallucination kept touching him, gently, like Bad loved him, like Bad was here, like Bad cared.
(Love and care were two different shoes. Surely, Sapnap and George still loved Dream but they had shown that they didn’t care for him.)
(Dream was forgetting something. Or someone. Heat was lancing through his brain, pain a deliberating force on everything that was him. How his mind still had enough force to call upon a hallucination with the ability to mimic the sensation of touch he didn’t know. But there was someone else, an agenda, Dream was forgetting.)
(Clay hated getting sick, not only because he couldn’t play with Pandas but because he couldn’t help demanding attention. To be fair, Bad would always give it to him.
“I’m dying,” Clay sobbed, writhing against the covers Bad had forced him under. “It’s too hot, it hurts, I am dying!”
“Shh, you silly, silly cupcake.” Bad chuckled, gently stroking over Clay’s head. Those fingers were so good, they spanned half his head and… Bad was starting to mindlessly but gently tug at all of Clay’s knots, tutting whenever another appeared in the long locks of Clay’s hair. “You’ll be ok, I’m here.”
Whenever Bad acted like this, Clay could pretend that Bad wasn’t only Pandas’ Dad but also his own, and fierce, fierce love wrecked Clay’s body together with the many illnesses he suffered.
One day, one day Clay would create a server for them, for Bad and Pandas and himself and anyone else he loved. He knew he was strong enough, as were his convictions and dreams.)
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Energy trickled back into Dream, day by day. The hallucination stayed, far longer than Dream expected it to, offering comfort and safety and the weakness was too strong. Dream, shamefully, gave in.
Until one day the rustle of wings, the wind whistling through feathers just outside his and his hallucination’s cave broke the spell.
“Mate?”
Not Sir, not Sir at all but –
“Get out.” His hallucination growled and the air pulsed with heat and old power – and there was no way that Dream’s stitched together mind could have replicate Bad’s aura when he was pissed and protecting someone. (Someone, not something, an important distinction.)
“Bad Boy Halo, I –“
“Leave before I make you leave. You offered no help, worse, you rejected sanctuary.”
“I didn’t know.”
Bad snorted and responded. Philza said words as well but – Dream had already lost the thread, his mind fuzzy with realizations and too full, too broken to comprehend anything. Until –
“Had I known he was blind and a baby Admin, he wouldn’t have left my house!” Feathers hit the stone walls. Or did feathers scrape along obsidian, crying in sync with the dripping walls? Sir was back, wasn’t he –
Scarred hands cradled Dream’s cheeks and a pair of leathery wings sneaked around and under Dream’s frame. The hands didn’t move. They just held his face and provided an anchor for his mind.
“Bad…” How to say the things he had to say, how to ask questions, how –
Dream’s head is pressed to a dark throat and his breath hitched. Too often Dream had been in this position whenever the world got too big, or he got too big for the world and it bared its fangs at him. Being settled against the thrum of Bad’s heart hadn’t rightened all the wrongs in the world but it had always – always – made them manageable.
“I’m here, Dream. Don’t you worry.”
Dream believed him and let himself fall into trust.
One more time.
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Wtf is this take
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WHY AM I EVEN IN THIS PERSINS PRIV
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ctrophyduo · 2 years
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no cause why does c!phil kinda rock... old immortal figure who’s perceived to be full of wisdom and knowledge and whilst he is in many areas; he is Rather childish at dealing with his own emotions or emotions from others. That kinda goes hard as hell. It’s a trope and a Subversion of the trope all in one. Good immortal- he’s been alive this long for a reason- but he skipped the whole Human emotions and coping with them (plus how to deal with other peoples emotions for dummies) class. That rocks tbh
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mossfaeriee · 2 years
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I love dadza but c!philza is a shit dad. Sir kindly shut the fuck up, your son wants to kill himself.
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julkie · 2 years
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"compare anything that c!schlatt did in the dream smp to literal child torture. doesn't really stack up." i knew i could trust you, philza minecraft
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sparkleduo · 11 months
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Q!Phil is what C!Phil wishes he was
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go-learn-esperanto · 2 years
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What I'm taking from this stream is that we have confirmation that C!Philza's advice is shit
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lilyminer · 2 years
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Literally not a single fucking person in this whole universe:
Me, randomly talking to myself in my room: “and so we’ve already covered the fact that character Philza is emotional unintelligent, and has severe problems with showing his true emotions and trusting others”
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ladyddanger · 2 years
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I hate c!sbi
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i am going to need to read the dream smp wiki + transcripts for this to work out the way i want to but, au i am working on rn in which in one hand i rewrite the dsmp story after c!tommy's resurrection (even if it focuses entirely on what happens 20 years later after dreamxd is defeated and everyone is free), and in the other i write a comedy/drama urban horror/fantasy like centuries after it set in modern times inspired by the other tommyinnit minecraft videos.
Anyway, the idea i have is that in the modern day is that c!techno and ghostbur are one of the few characters from the dsmp that are still alive. ghostbur is the angel of death after being released from limbo (a thing that does happen in the dsmp side of the story, yes the implications of him being the angel of death are true.) and c!techno is an immortal but in the "he cannot die from anything but being killed" sort of way and still largely same as he was, kind of miserable with how much the world has changed.
i have yet to figure out the actual story events but, I am just thinking of them, mostly c!techno, having to befriend these completely wild and off versions of his pseudo-family. c!wilbur just escaped from a cult he was in for 3 years. c!philza does not trust him and is focusing on c!wilbur. And c!tommy is confident in himself and does not take anyone's shit but is the only one that actually wants to be his friends, frankly he would have already escaped the whole situation if it wasn't for Ghostbur repeated attempts at convincing him to give this a shot at least. (<- i am going to put him into the most evil labyrinths and deranged situations ever seen)
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