saturnine

writing to me is like shaping someone’s perception of a concept you want to present. with your words, you can guide them in the general direction of your mind’s image but ultimately you can’t control all aspects of how someone else actualizes your story. each person reads differently and i think it’s statistically possible that no two people take away the same things! therefore it’s possible that but even then, you can hope that someone reads your story, imagines and feels exactly the things you want them to. and it’s definitely frustrating when your words aren’t enough to convey the vividity of what you have inside. the lifelong goal that i want to reach is unambiguity, to pass the truth of my work to someone else in full rawness—but to do that, i first need to be in control of how my words are felt by people who read them, and that requires being self-aware of how people will perceive the way you write! 

i think that speaks to the feeling of being cringey! truth is when i first started i was arrogant enough to think i could reach the full potential of a sentence on the first go. i thought i was hot shit; i went back years later and realized exactly how wrong i was. in five years later i’ll have the same revelation. if you’re feeling cringey, that means you’re definitely going to improve!! and to do that, you’re going to have write it out! everyone’s gotta start cringey LOL. the evolution of one’s writing is a phase-by-phase, painful, demotivating, and despairing process filled with moments that make it really worth it—when a person reads your work and acknowledges it. and that person can be yourself too!

as for actual tips….i’m terrible at giving advice because i’m terrible at pedagogy:

above all, the mark of a literate author is one who reads a lot!

if you like an author’s writing, they were appealing to an audience through some method. subconsciously, you might pick up on it and incorporate it into your own ;). if not, reason to yourself why you like what they’ve done and then incorporate it into your own LOL

you definitely don’t need to use big vocabulary to express yourself fully. but i think it helps to expand the words you know nonetheless! the more comfortable you are with the words you know, the more eloquent and comfortable you can be with using them. and the way to do that is….reading a lot of fanfic! and constantly looking up new words to use! word 2010 used to have the ‘look up’ option which pulled up a dictionary….i don’t think word has that option anymore which is a pity but ANYWAY. there’s appeal in simplicity too. you don’t have to be fancy with prose. as long as the idea is good, and as long as the pacing is right, and as long as you hit necessary character interactions or motions that flesh out the story, you’re good.

pacing your story to get to the right place at the right time, while moving through one scene at the right pace… is one of the biggest struggles ever. of course the biggest struggle is making something read like it’s complete, engaging, and evenly paced! to that, i say that you should read a lot of fanfic of other people haha. different works will read at different paces because the author wants a particularly tone or mood or some other endgame. so read a lot of works with different flows—and then write it yourself! i would say that after 10000 hours of experimentation, you’ll get a feel for it. no exaggeration on 10000 hours

sentence structure. after getting a feel for pacing, one wants to be dynamic and witty with prose! and for that, rather than reading fanfic, you can read classic literature LOL. but you should also read young adult novels! the reason being—sentences should vary in meaning, emotion, and feeling. you can get the long boring exposition ones from tolkien and then the quick modern pithy quips from james patterson. assimilate the styles of multiple authors. and something that i like to waste a lot of my time on is how a sentence sounds. i want my stories to be read like they can be spoken aloud. in fact, read a sentence out loud to yourself. if it sounds off, then trust your ears over your eyes. 

i like the turns of phrases and pseudo-metaphors that are incomplete. what’s powerful is drawing important connections between abstract concepts to evoke new feelings. i can’t give any direct examples, but tim o’brien’s ‘the things they carried’ is what i aspire to write like. read some of these quotes by this man. he’s profound. this isn’t so much a tip as a personal thing for what i like to incorporate into heavier writing!

last, most important tip. i told you to read and read and read, but what’s crucial is that you write, write, write! don’t worry too much about seeming bad or being cringey. it’s all part of your journey to developing your style. it’ll seem like a really lonely journey when you yourself don’t even like your own writing. and that’s valid, an author might not actually like anything that they themselves write. but if you can find someone to write with you, it’s not so unbearable! above all, even if you keep a critical eye turned to yourself, hold close the things that people praise you for and believe that you’re improving! every word that you write is a word that will take you one step closer to the style you want. it’s just slow progress. you have to look back in five years. and to do that, that’s five years of writing ahead of you—but if you ultimately like writing, then it won’t be too tough! go forward and conquer.

and also—getting feedback is just one aspect of writing that makes it fun and rewarding, and is fuel for your self-improvement. a person can write solely for their own enjoyment, but it’s hard not to crave validation for something you put your heart into. so if you don’t find a close circle of writing buddies, then go write for an active fandom where the reader base is big so that you’ll get a lot of response! i started out on ffn in 2011 and my impression is that ao3 is more trendy nowadays? you can just choose one of them. and then read and write. know the kind of writing you like by reading, and practice the kind of writing you like by writing! and then you will absolutely get there!! 

1. They take up all of your time.

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS HIDEOUT TOKYO, JAPAN 7:53AM

“Just so you know,” Dabi says conversationally to Kurogiri, “today was my day off. I was going to relax. I even made plans with someone.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Kurogiri says solemnly. “If it is all the same to you, you can just bring your payload along.”

“It’s not the same to—“

And then he gets drowned out by the whoosh of the warp gate. Kurogiri turns to the emerging party.

Dabi squints. The big guy’s lugging a bag.

Shigaraki swings into the bar with his gangly limbs, cackling like a crackhead. “The pros are going to have a field day,” he says gleefully. Creepy motherfucker. He turns to Dabi and jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the bag. “You’ll have fun with this one.”

“Will I?” Dabi says, unconvinced. 

Shigaraki snaps his fingers at the big guy, who undoes the drawstring. The bag falls around the unfortunate bastard—oh, man. Mismatched eyes glare up at him.

 “Mm, awkward,” Dabi says.

    2. You guys can never have a civil conversation.

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS HIDEOUT — DABI'S ROOM TOKYO, JAPAN 10:34AM

“This is really awkward.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“Yeah. Because it’s just as awkward now as it was then.” Dabi arches a brow down at him, and Shouto gives him a defiant, pissed stare up from where he’s propped against the wall, arms bound behind his back.

At least Dabi was kind enough to undo the capture tape on his legs so he can spread out a little.

“How did you get caught anyway?” Dabi asks. “Thought U.A. was for the elite?”

Shouto makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat. “It’s none of your business.”

“I’m pretty sure you could’ve taken the big guy. And your quirk is long range, so that hand freak wouldn’t have the upper hand unless you dropped your guard so bad that he put those claws in your face.” Dabi tilts his head. “Or do you suck that hard?”

“The situation isn’t as simple as you’ve made it out to be,” Shouto retorts. “I don’t suck. You suck.”

“Hostage situation?” Dabi queries, unruffled. “The creep threatened your boy crush or something?”

Shouto’s eyes flash with irritation. “No,” he bites out.

Dabi thinks hard about it. Then his face takes on the dawn of realization, and Shouto scowls harder as he bursts out in laughter.

“You suck,” Dabi gasps out, practically crying. “You got distracted, right? By the stray near our alley?”

“You’re,” Shouto says with great pain, “so annoying.”

Shouto really takes after Natsuo in this respect. Natsuo’s a huge dumbass for animals. He wipes a stray tear and gives himself a good inhale to restock his air. And then takes stock of Shouto’s impassive face again.

“I’ll kill you,” Shouto continues. “Stop laughing.”

    3. He likes soba but you like the clearly superior ramen.

“It’s about time for lunch,” Dabi muses, checking his phone.

Shouto stares at him.

“I’m not that villainous,” Dabi says, offended. “I’ll get you something too.”

.

.

.

“I can’t believe you eat this,” Shouto says across from him. Dabi kindly decided to join him on the floor of his bedroom so that they can at least pretend to be on equal ground.

“Believe it,” Dabi says.

“Soba is clearly better. Even Natsuo agrees.”

Unfazed, Dabi gathers some noodles with his chopsticks. “Natsuo is the type to agree with everything you say because you’re the youngest. And you’re too naïve,” he scoffs. “He’s in college. Ramen’s the staple of all college students. He eats it behind your back and you know it.”

Shouto shrugs. “The sodium will give you high blood pressure. And then you’ll die.”

“You give me high blood pressure,” Dabi says. “The old bastard gives me high blood pressure. It’s not because of salt.”

“It’s the salt,” Shouto mumbles under his breath.

Dabi decides to be the more mature one, and ignores that. “Anyway,” he says. “Why aren’t you eating? Are you too good for ramen?”

“If you've forgotten, my hands are tied behind my back,” Shouto says flatly. “If I’m eating this bullcrap, I’m not eating it like a dog.”

The disposable chopsticks lie untouched next to the steaming bowl of instant ramen by Shouto’s side. Dabi leans back, placing his own chopsticks down, thinking. He can’t untie Shouto, for sure. And he’s not into that weird power play shit where you get off on making hostages eat off the floor. There’s got to be a solution.

Then he grimaces.

Shouto sees the look on his face and matches his grimace.

“No,” Shouto says immediately. “Don’t do weird shit. I’d rather starve.”

“Look,” Dabi says, “I don’t want to do it either. But you’re still a kid. If kids don’t eat, they won’t grow. Look at yourself. You’re a pipsqueak.”

“No one looks like they’re growing next to you,” Shouto says. “Because you’re freakishly—stop. Put those chopsticks down.”

“Look, shut up and deal,” Dabi says. “I’m not telling Mom that I starved you for a day.”

“You—what?” Shouto’s eyes narrow. “You’re—you—what?”

“What?” Dabi says. “Oh—shit.”

    4. And they always get their way.

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS HIDEOUT — STILL DABI'S ROOM TOKYO, JAPAN 12:53PM

“Fine,” Dabi concedes. “You can come. If you eat this ramen.”

It shouldn’t be a problem. Kurogiri gave the okay himself.

“I didn’t know you visited her,” Shouto says, but opens his mouth nonetheless.

Dabi shrugs and crudely shoves a few noodles into Shouto's mouth. Shouto glares at him and chews.

“What kind of son do you think I am?” Dabi retorts.

To his surprise, Shouto looks briefly taken aback and then averts his irritated glare. Dabi senses that he’s somehow accidentally hit a sore spot. Despite feeling triumphant, part of him is also troubled. He makes a face. That’s annoying.

“Anyway,” says Dabi. “After this, I’ll let you take a bathroom break, and then we’re going. So finish this up.”

    5. No common sense.

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS HIDEOUT — HALLWAY TOKYO, JAPAN 1:26PM

“For fuck’s sake,” Shouto says, “you’re going to help me piss too? What is wrong with you?”

He says this as they pass by a very open room of lounging villains on their way to the lavatory on the other end of the hallway. Dabi chokes and swiftly hisses down at him, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dabi?” Twice calls out.

“Shut up,” Dabi replies and pushes Shouto, who doesn’t budge. “You. Move.”

Just like he expects and dreads, Twice gets up and approaches them. He does a double-take when he sees Shouto’s face. Dabi was hoping to avoid this exact situation.

“The Todoroki kid,” Twice says. “You’re watching him?”

“Obviously,” Dabi says, pained.

“Interesting,” says Twice. “You planning to go rough him up or something? Thanks for the invite.”

“Fuck off. No,” says Dabi. “I’m taking him to the bathroom. Touch him and I’ll cremate you.”

Twice opens his mouth, and then closes it. The shadow of where his brows should be behind his mask furrows like he looks troubled. Dabi can feel himself getting pissed looking at him. For someone whose actual looks he’s never seen, Twice sure has a stupid face.

“…Look, Dabi, I’ve seen this on TV shows before,” Twice says before Dabi can kick it into high gear. “And even if he’s one of those U.A. brats and on Shigaraki's hitlist, I don’t know about…well.”

“What the hell are you saying?” Dabi says, lost and annoyed. He looks at Twice warily, a hand on Shouto’s back in case Twice tries anything.

Dabi sees Himiko peek up over the couch and catch a glimmer of Shouto. Shit. No. She’s creepy as hell and she’s not coming anywhere near Shouto.

“Gotta go,” Dabi says insistently and shoves Shouto forward.

“You can’t, Dabi!” Twice yells after him.

“I don’t take orders from dipshits!” he yells back and tugs Shouto by the arm down the rest of the hallway.

    6. Dude.

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS HIDEOUT — BATHROOM TOKYO, JAPAN 1:34PM

Shouto kindly (read: with zero pity) decides to enlighten him on Twice’s confusing behavior once they make it into the bathroom and lock the door. His dispassionate, matter-of-fact tone makes it all the worse.

“What the fuck,” Dabi gasps, gagging. The toilet’s right there. He really might. “He thought—that’s—you’re like—holy shit. No. I need to go clear this up. I was keeping my real name under wraps but the world’s gonna have to know—”

“No,” Shouto hisses and kicks at his shin. “Crap will hit the fan if you let it slip. Deal with it.”

Dabi didn’t have room to dodge, so he clutches his shin and groans. “It’s not a problem for you, asshole! They think I’m—! You’re my otou—oh my god.”

“Look,” Shouto says mercilessly. “They’re more likely to think worse of you after. You can’t win. Give up. And untie my hands. I really do need to pee.”

    7. No common language, period.

It’s not like he can show up to the hospital with Shouto tied up. Mom would have a fit. But he’ll have to redo the capture tape just so the villains outside don’t catch on. But it feels pretty ironic. He remembers doing this once to Natsuo when they were kids. Fuyumi was the hero, Natsuo was the villain, and he was Fuyumi’s sidekick.

Natsuo never played a convincing villain anyway. The old bastard sure as hell did though.

He grimaces when he sees that the wrist restraints left red marks. Mom’s going to see it. To be fair, Dabi redid them looser than the big guy originally did. He still doesn’t know how he’s going to explain this.

Nostalgia loosens his filter and makes him talkative. “Remember when we used to play together?” Dabi says when he finishes.

“No. We’ve never played together,” Shouto deadpans. “The old man kept me away.”

Even Dabi can feel that he’s fucked up. He grimaces, and Shouto catches it in the mirror and rolls his eyes.

“Do you regret it?” Shouto asks him suddenly.

Dabi shrugs. “I regret it every day of my miserable life,” he says solemnly.

“Running away?” Shouto continues. There’s a question in his eyes. Half of him is their mother. The other half—is the same wholeness of Dabi that belongs to their bastard of a father. They have the same blue.   

“Hell no,” Dabi says. “Not setting all his underwear on fire before I left. Come on. Leaving was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

    8. They’re seriously more trouble than they’re worth.

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS HIDEOUT — BATHROOM TOKYO, JAPAN 1:40PM

Twice is waiting right outside when Dabi opens the door. A spike of what he’ll never admit is fear goes straight down his spine. Did that bastard just hear everything? Their conversation wasn’t coherent enough that he could piece everything together, right?

“The bathroom wasn’t a euphemism, you stupid bastard,” Dabi bursts out. “You’re dividing your brain cells each time you use your Quirk. Save yourself before it’s too late, dickhead.”

Caught off-guard by that sudden fourth-degree burn, Twice stands back, blinking, probably trying to comprehend with what little fraction of brainpower he has left—and then trying to reason that Dabi must be playing him but also secretly worried that it might be true. Dabi takes the opening and manhandles Shouto down the hallway—past his room, to the basement stairs which’ll take them to ground level.

“That was harsh,” Shouto notes once they’re in the stairwell. “Do you not have friends at work?”

“No,” Dabi says flatly. “I’m not friends with those assholes. I don’t need friends.”

“Actually,” says Shouto.

Dabi sulkily wonders at the power of young friendship that Shouto looks like a reformed enlightened entity about to serve up some unwanted optimism.

“It’s pretty nice having friends,” Shouto says. “You might have a little trouble, but if you try really hard, I’m sure someone would be friends with you too.”

Aside from the obvious condescension, Dabi picks up on the word ‘too.’

“You have friends? Plural?” Dabi asks, curious. Then promptly realizes he’s fucked up. Too late—he forgot to add the undertone of derision that will make it seem like he’s utterly indifferent to his kid brother’s social life and therefore definitely not vaguely interested and maybe even a little concerned. Kids are social creatures, after all, and given Endeavor’s total isolation of Shouto physically and emotionally, he probably didn’t even have the concept of friendship until that green kid came along. Not that Dabi cares. Endeavor’s masterpiece having friends, though. Incredible. Even if it’s completely irrelevant to he who cut his ties completely from that household.

Shouto arches a brow at him. “Your face is screaming a lot of things at me right now,” he says. “But yes, I have friends.”

Dabi opens the door for him, marking the end of that conversation (thank god); Shouto steps outside into the dark alley. The sun overhead awaits them right beyond, in the open street. But Shouto turns to him after he pulls the capture tape loose.

“We can just leave like this?” he clarifies. “Nothing’s going to go down?”

“Look, I know you think the League’s powerful. But it’s not like we’re competent,” Dabi points out. “If you noticed, no one tried to stop me. Except Twice. And he tried for the entirely wrong reason.”

“They’re going to notice if you lose a hostage,” Shouto points out.

Dabi pauses. He didn’t think about that. “True,” he says. “You have to go back to school tomorrow, huh. Since it’s Sunday.” Kids do need their education. And he’s definitely more likely to fear the wrath of their mother than the hand creep. “…Yeah, that hand bastard’s going to notice.”

Shouto blinks at him. He looks like he can’t quite believe that Dabi slacks off this much in his duties. This situation isn’t applicable to everyone though. Catch him on literally any other day. If it happened to literally be any other brat, it wouldn’t have gone down like this.

See? All little brothers ever do is cause trouble.

“Unless,” Shouto continues.

“Unless,” Dabi repeats as they make their way out of the dark alley. He walks Shouto to a bus stop.

“If you don’t want it to look like you let me escape,” Shouto suggests, “then you’ll have to say that you lost to me in a fight and I shook you off.”

“What? No,” Dabi says. “That means I lost to you in a fight and I let you escape. There’s no way in hell I’ll volunteer myself up for such an embarrassing ploy. And you’re a century too early to win me in any fight.”

The bus pulls up as Shouto’s eyes flash with promise.

“I don’t have change, by the way,” Shouto says, as Dabi reaches into his pocket for some coins.

    9. AND ALL THEY DO IS LIE.

PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL — THIRD FLOOR ?????, JAPAN 2:30PM

Didn’t have coins, his ass!

It turned out to be a total lie because Shouto buys a drink at the vending machine in the hospital hallway when they get to the right floor, little punk. Dabi wonders at the gall of this kid and marvels at the evolution of a cute four year old Shouto to the annoying teenage Shouto who chills the strawberry milk in his right hand like a little baby who can't handle lukewarm drinks.

The Shouto that he remembers never would have played him like this.

“Here,” Shouto says, tossing the carton to him.

Dabi catches it (nearly knocked it away out of reflex and nearly toasts the plastic). “If you had the money,” Dabi says, “why didn’t you pay for your own bus fare? And I don’t drink strawberry milk.” He’s about to throw it back to Shouto. He knows Shouto likes this drink because it may be in no small part due to him.

“I don’t know what you drink, and I don’t care,” Shouto replies. “But you’re acting weird and it’s really weird, so stop it. Drink and get yourself together. And then we’ll go in.”

    10. Because he's your little brother.

PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL — THIRD FLOOR ?????, JAPAN 5:21PM

Shouto follows Dabi out the door with a final bow to their mother. He slides the door closed behind the two of them and exhales out into the hallway. Dabi stands tall next to him, body tensed to flee.

“That was different,” Shouto says carefully.

“Yeah. This is gross, and so are you,” says Dabi, refusing to look at him. “I’m out. Bye.”

“Wait,” Shouto says.

“What,” Dabi says in exasperation.

Shouto squints at him. “…Are you stressed out right now?”

“No,” Dabi grits out. “I’m great. I’m also leaving.”

He makes to head down the hallway, confident his long stride will outpace Shouto’s by miles.

“We could,” Shouto says, as if it pains him greatly to say this, before Dabi can take that first step, “do this again some time.” Dabi doesn’t say anything. “Since it makes Mom happy. She did say that we should visit together again. Like how Fuyumi and Natsuo always visit her together.”

There's some sort of morbid parallel to be found here. He doesn't know if he likes it. Shouto's got a scar on his face and so does he.

"You want to visit Mom together," Dabi repeats.

"I don't," Shouto clarifies. "That was extremely awkward. I'm pretty sure she doesn't know we're enemies. But if she wants us to, then we should."

"Fine," Dabi says. "I always come on Sundays around this time."

"That's a coincidence," Shouto says. "Because I always come on Sunday. Exactly after you."

Dabi turns to face him, arms crossed over his chest. "Huh."

He's never bothered to stay after. He can't believe this never came out until now.

"Okay," Shouto says after they've both gone silent, brushing past Dabi.

"Within a two mile radius of the hospital is our don't-engage zone. If I spot you outside, I'm not going to go easy on you."

"That's my line." Shouto scoffs. "You're going to tell them you lost, right?"

"I'm going to tell them I killed you," Dabi promises, and Shouto laughs.

"Your villain name's lame by the way," Shouto says.

"Your hero name's lame. And it's your actual name. Sucks for you."

"Mom thinks it's symbolic," Shouto retorts. "Your actual name suits you better."

Interesting. Shouto is drawing out an inane conversation with him for once. And he looks like he could keep going. Dabi quirks a brow and wonders if he can hit the mark.

"Just say goodbye already," Dabi exhales, wry. "You're such a kid. We'll see each other next week so you don't have to stall. You have a limited supply of wit anyway. Save it."

Shouto shoots him a horrified glare. "I'm not stalling. Bye." He starts stalking off.

Got him.

"Bye, otouto," Dabi says sweetly, and Shouto stiffens, visibly disgusted even from the hard line of his shoulders, but keeps walking.