Note: This is about this fic and I argue its important to read this before you read the fic as oh boy it has issues and I really debate taking it down sometimes. but you do you.
My disclaimer on the fic I put on their today might state this all better than I do here oh well.
Vultures is a fic thats up on ao3 that I wrote with an intense migrane during my writers block sorta phase where I couldnt really write anything. I dont have much to say other than I listened to the song and I tried to just make the most Bullshit Ever. It was inspired by a song, which I will link here. So most of the story was kinda based off of that. Another aspect of the fic is the fact that theirs Dream magic bullshit. Their is also the element of other people than the two characters so far, that through the power of some sort of thing hes blending with a person from another reality. I hate the story. Its abstract n shit. I dont really remember it that well tbh.
I keep it up just for the reason to see what people make of it. The writing sucks and is my worst beause I couldnt really write then for whatever reason. I guess its also good to keep up the messes. All of my works are generally good but a few. Besides some people like it as evidenced by the kudos (er. The one guest kudo.) I am also keeping it up to see if I have the impulse to save it from its doom that was inherently has by its creation.
All in all its my worst fic that I hate, its abstract made by a migrane and a writer who at the time couldnt write and knew the writing was off. I've been debating taken it down but the archivst in me is screaming at that idea. So for the sake of some shallow bullshit that isnt really true like showing you can make mistakes, it will stay up.
I've been meaning to make Little pages like this about all my fics but something recently inspired me to give this mistake a page first. If you want something good read anything else. if you wanna see that despite all my fics that are apparently "masterpieces" I do write shit sometimes, read this one I guess. It is good to some people, its just not my taste so you may very well like it. It is just not my writing.
I am going back and reading my own fic and analyzing their and what it means. It is a fic thats meant to not be taken at surface value and you need to really analyze it and use meta literacy skills. Of course if I did that sort of thing correctly or not is up for debate and before I start rereading I will argue maybe I didnt do that right. I have much better symbolism in my Asthma series with Wilburs outfits sometimes for example.
First off let me quote something that isn't the fic, what preresent wrote on their blog when they read this fic: "...or maybe i'm overthinking it. because fall presumably wrote it as a vent to themselves or their surroundings (family+exes)...and since fall must've been dealing with that kinda shit back then and maybe still now, i respect them more. like... im sorry for what you had to go through and youre really strong." It is VERY much a personal vent mixed with a story. Maybe I'm too hard on myself for this fic but everything I write I can read with a distance. Like it isn't mine but it very much is and its good. I can read my fics knowing they are mine but they are so good otherwise. I dislike things a bit that are mine. I might dislike the fic because of its absolute failure it preformance and the fact that It was made during the phase where I couldnt really write.
Onto the fic,
"schlatt" wasn't schlatt. Not really. It could be considered him but it also could not. It might be something taking his form in Tubbos dream, thats what I intended it to be anyways. A mix of schlatt and not schlatt.
So. I don't remember alot from my childhood. I know my parents physically hurt me alot. and that I apparently hurt them when they hurt me in self defense. I was called abusive. I remember some moments and it was genuine self-defense. Also a four year old cannot abuse a fifty year old like. like from four to sometime before i turned 10 i would guess, maybe after that as well. I remember some moments its like flashes and facts. Alot of memories are held by someone else in my system but I know of it. I know that I only just them when they hurt me. and that mom probably couldve killed me instead of whning whenever she hit me and i hit her back. I was a kid who couldnt control what I was doing while they hurt me. What I was doing was fighting back. It sounds so stupid on paper with the four year old bit but. whatever.
I have a bad memory. so this analysis is somewhat speculation on my end. It is very much a personal vent of what I was feeling mixed with story, a formula that worked well with others. I also mix the character into that mix so. Keep that in mind
I know I didnt project that feeling of being a monster for fighting back, called abusive and other horrid shit by my parents but I history is important when we talk bout personal works. It was fear I was projecting onto tubbo, or it was fear that the character Tubbo soley felt that I handcrafted for the purpose of this story. It just reminds me a bit of that trauma of mine. Might be another reason why I dislike the fic.
So i was projecing an abstract fear (or I didnt project that fear) alongside other things. The fic is honestly differnet from what I remember reading it.
I honestly dont know why I included the bit at the beginnig, to fit with the song I guess but maybe it was projecting a bit. After all the shit left over from my exes and everyone i fear and feel like im a monster for venting. I vented to my exes and peaceful and I guess they took advantage of that responsibility. So i worry about doing that and being open about my problems. This fic was created sometime after KS contacted us on 03/10 and the fic was posted on 03/17. KS is my second abusive ex. They gave a shitty "apology" If it could be called that at all and was a weird contact. We confronted them describing what they went through and they claimed they were going through the exact same thing even though it was a lie and obviously copied from us and what we said to them. But I mightve felt like a bit of a monster back then. Because I dont want to hurt people. and with all these abusive assholes that acted like the victim. I guess I was projecting that.
Also, to directly address the blog post preresent wrote again, you are not supposed to sympathize with schlatt here. This isnt about him at all really, he's just a minor role here.
"...Of course not. Will he still please? Will those who liked his creations still praise him if he is no longer in the chaos of pain that is a constant firework that he doesn’t even realize is being set off but rather being slow burned on a frying pan? Will he still please if he is not bleeding out into the works of fictions he writes and keeps to himself, shows to the millions of crows that circle in the sky and speak human words. Will he still please if there is nothing left? If he was just numb from everything he has been through in the recent, nothing to burn and cauterize in a way that immortalizes it? Will he still please if he cannot create those poems that also illustrate his pain?..." Is a quote from this fic.
At that time I felt like all my creations where they all sucked. That my writing sucked. My parents when I was younger emotionally abused me to feel bad about my writing, if that makes sense. And then I posted 50 weeks and people loved it. and loved all of my writing but during that time it felt like all that love was going away, teetering off. Like i was finally good at this one thing thats been a device to hurt me that I finally reclaimed and. It now sucks. I usually put all of me in everything I write, I used to write stories, original content, but now its mostly a mix of me and fiction and things created as one dish that people like. That i thought people started to dislike.
The next bit I see is heavily inspired by the song, the conversation between Tubbo and the crowd.
(wip)
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