#rude language
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Writing Advice #?: Choose your descriptive details wisely.
To start, I’d like to share my favorite phrase in the entire English language:
Coffee the temperature of piss
I know it’s no “cellar door.” But it’s wonderfully evocative on several different levels. First of all, the obvious: the temperature of piss is also known as... perfect drinking temperature. Coffee slightly less warm than human body temperature is coffee optimal for drinking. But the choice of comparison has immediately put us off that coffee.
Second, the phrase is viscerally gross: it’s comparing a beverage to a bodily fluid. And it’s crude: “piss” is rude slang, not childish like “pee” or technical like “urine.” Third, it’s a great metaphor: pee is acidic and has a strong smell; bad coffee is acidic and has a strong smell. But the narration didn’t come out and say “the coffee had a strong acidic odor similar to the smell of piss”; it simply evoked that comparison indirectly.
Fourth: I first encountered the phrase in a since-deleted fan fic, in which the narrator was sitting in a hospital room waiting for his son to wake up from surgery. (A fic about John Winchester on a Supernatural LJ, if anyone cares.) So the phrase worked on several other levels.
We’re in a hospital setting, you’re comparing something to pee: ick, we can guess why that’s on the character’s mind.
The narrator is former military, so the use of profanity fits.
The narrator knows that his son is in this situation because of his own decisions; the self-disgust is evident in comfort (hot coffee) being turned to contamination (urine).
Hospital coffee is famously bad, so anyone who has ever tasted it will get to feel their gorge rise at the image that evokes it so well.
The thinness of the paper cup and the sickly warmth of the liquid within also come through, to readers who know hospitals.
However, like I said: coffee that temperature is good coffee. But the writer has managed to thoroughly put us off it with the extremely specific word choice for that scene. “Piss” is about the grossest thing you can compare a beverage to except maybe blood, and drinking blood comes with a whole other set of implications that the author obviously doesn’t want.
Another example done right: Homecoming describes an overpass where cars “hurtled over that bridge as if the devil himself was chasing them. He’d be chasing them from both directions then; he’d catch you either way.” Why? It’s a bridge that the main characters, on foot, have no way to cross to safety. This description comes at the narrator’s lowest moment of despair. It’s just a bridge, with traffic moving at normal speed, but it’s also not. The circular nature of the description, the sense of fleeing but being unable to get away, are exactly the right details to be evoking then.
An example done wrong: Vampire Academy opens on a sequence where the guy kidnapping the main characters is described as “He was older than us, maybe mid-twenties, and as tall as I’d figured, probably six-six or six-seven. And under different circumstances—say, when he wasn’t holding up our desperate escape—I would have thought he was hot. Shoulder-length brown hair, tied back in a short ponytail. Dark brown eyes. A long brown coat—a duster, I thought it was called. But his hotness was irrelevant now.” This paragraph brings the story to a screeching halt. Instead of the action advancing, it’s dwelling on the “irrelevant” “hotness” of a character’s face. Why would the narrator notice the physical attractiveness of this person right now? Why would she wonder whether she has the name of a designer coat correct? It’s distracting, it’s confusing, and it verbally moves the scene from a desperate shaky cam to a sparkly slow-mo long enough to get a very long pan over this character’s hair and outfit.
It would be easy to describe him as “menacingly large” with “a long dark coat” and keep going. Then the focus of the narration matches the focus of the characters. If it’s important for the reader to know that he’s attractive and long-haired and wears leather, then add those details later when the narrator has already been kidnapped and has time to sit around and study him.
So, yeah. If you have a self-loathing former Marine waiting in a hospital room with a hot drink, “coffee the temperature of piss” evokes worlds of implication in just five words. If you have an upbeat kid eagerly caffeinating, that same cup can be “coffee with the warm zing of a hug.” If a third-grade teacher is sucking it down to stay alert, it’s “coffee as tepid as my soul.” If you’re writing a doctor who sprints past the coffee because their patient is going tachycardic in that same room, don’t mention the coffee at all.
#writing#writing advice#metaphor#figurative language#description#rude language#long post#nothing to do with animorphs
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Community Guidelines
03:55 am
>> (4 people viewing thread)
>> user6969: there's no way
>> softficrecs: I've heard it. It's true
>> chachains: guys let's not do this. he might read this
>> user6969: but he doesn't look the type
>> mjolnir: he totally looks the type. he looks like such a slut. even from the first day I saw him
>> user6969: but he's so nice
>> softficrecs: nice people fuck like whores, too
>> chachains: this isn't what this forum was created for.
>> mjolnir: he knew what he was doing, messing up every time so that khunkinn could notice him
>> softficrecs: wow, because it makes sense. I can definitely see them doing it after that choking thing
>> chachains: khunkinn didn't even like him at the time, how would they have done anything?
>> user6969: maybe you haven't heard of hate sex
>> mjolnir: he seems like the type who'd just spread it open for khunkinn anywhere
>> chachains: okay, I'm out.
04:00 am
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>> softficrecs: mmmmm look at the way he moves. Like a horny gazelle
>> user6969: do I want to know how you know what a horny gazelle looks like?
>> softficrecs: it's a figure of speech
>> mjolnir: I've seen them before. I know what he's like when he's on his back, enjoying it like a loud freak
>> user6969: really?
>> softficrecs: for real?
>> mjolnir: why would I lie?
>> softficrecs: what did you see?
>> mjolnir: they were kissing in the water and when I closed the door behind me and they thought I'd gone, they started to -
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"How was that?" Arm asked, looking up from his computer at Chan, who was sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, his phone in his hand.
"It will have to do."
Arm got up and bowed. He'd been up all morning, crafting those guidelines and now his waist felt like a rusted hinge.
"I'm sorry that this happened, Sir."
"It's fine. You couldn't have seen this coming."
As Chan got up to leave, Arm spoke again.
"I'm glad you didn't shut us down, Sir."
"Now why would I do that?" Chan asked, a slight smirk on his face. "Khun Korn would be most displeased if that happened."
As Arm's mouth gaped in shock that Chan would even admit that, Chan chuckled and strolled out of the office.
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I dare someone to say "this is what you wanted" @ Miles while Hobie is around
#my “whatever”#my posts#linguistics#informal speech#rude language#btsv#itsv#atsv#I don't like this Peter Parker#he makes me uncomfortable#Peter “hold the baby i had to replace you in my life instead of breaking the rules to come see you” Parker#whatever#this is what you wanted
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KINDNESS AND US
Dr. Duke Jeyaraj
KINDNESS AND USRev. Dr. Duke Jeyaraj
13th November is World Kindness Day. It is a good time to summarize what the Bible teaches on Kindness.
KINDNESS AND THE UNBELIEVER
The Lord Jesus is extremely kind to everyone of us. That is why instead of straight-away frying us in hell, he came flying to save us from going to a living hell and a literal hell (Titus 3:4-5). But in…
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#Aim Magazine#duke jeyaraj#Duke Jeyaraj author#Duke Jeyaraj&039;s articles#Evangelical Fellowship of India#Kind#Kind leaders#kindness#Rude#Rude language#Rude leaders#Rudeness
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Danny has an Ice Core.
He isn't aware of it, but this does, in fact, greatly influence how his ghost form looks as he grows up.
His appearance starts getting more rugged, eyes a paler, more piercing green, hair a bit more uncontrollable and wild.
He packs muscle easily, even in human form.
When in ghost form, he has an aura of something patient and dangerous, and that sense only grows the older he gets.
Basically, our boy starts to look like a viking.
No matter how goofy and bumbling he really is, his first impression is always a horrifying moment for whoever is meeting him.
And as his ghost form grows with his human form, he outgrows his hazmat outfit. Frostbite and the Far Frozen fashion him some new clothes-which only compliment and play off of the viking aesthetic he's got going on.
And with the height he inherited from his father?
Our man is a very, very intimidating figure to look at. More so than Dan; because while Dan was dangerous and scary, he was all energy and lightning and rage.
Adult Danny comes across as lethal and terrifying, all ice and persistence and that final, terrible silence before you realize you've already died.
Dan felt like the warrior in front of you. Danny feels like the wilderness in winter, vast and unforgiving.
Anyways, when a summoning for Klarion goes horribly wrong and Danny gets called instead, the Justice League has a moment where they're convinced they've summoned something much, much worse than Klarion.
And Danny, standing there completely confused, is not helping by remaining silent and still while staring John Constantine in the eye.
Good news, the bad guys are also very concerned about the weird ghost viking and are actually moving to stand side by side with the Justice League on this.
Bad news, who the fuck is this guy?
"...Fuck," is all Constantine whispers, backing away slowly.
@simplestoryteller
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#and yes i love this idea#that a core helps shape how a ghost looks like as they mature#Dan's was lightning and vengeance#so he grew up to embody that#Ellie's is freedom#so she starts looking more and more like a pirate#Danny's is ice#so he does this#it gets to the point where no one believes he and Ellie are related#like yeah y'all look alike sort of but also#there's no way in hell#anyways immediately after this Danny ruins his image by sheepishly asking where he is#almost exact same body language as a flustered Clark#and Bruce is just like#“ah. this is a Clark situation-looks intimidating but tries desperately not to be rude”#story prompt#basically if every time Danny went ghost#the witcher soundtrack was going off in the background#and its freaking people out#and he's just like “hey wanna see me make a skateboard out of solid ice”
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I would die for these two's shenanigans--
As you know, Lilyas originally had an obsession on eliminating Roxanne; but at some point of the story, they have to form an alliance for... reasons.
Considering Lilyas has a rude language and keeps swearing even if it's not necessary, I couldn't not imagine this scene where Roxanne doesn't trust him then gets ruthlessly insulted xD
... "Fuck you."
(Also I ship them--- 🥺)
#ocs#original characters#sdu#seven#seven division united#roxanne zaleska#lilyas sdu#swear#promise#fuck you#rude language#rude#insult#comic#short comic#shitpost
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something i wish i'd see more in trigun fanarts is people having vash speak their native/non-english languages completely unprompted, ive seen folks have him speak french, which he canonically knows, but i really do believe he's a polyglot. mostly because of that one time in the desert when he saw the samurai and wanted to greet him in japanese but struggled to remember how to even say hello.
my headcanon is that rem had them learn as many languages as possible but with the big fall and so many people dying, which i think is what led english to became No man's land main (or even only?) language, means that vash (and knives!) both got horribly out of practice and are various sort of rusty in every others languages.
what im saying if there's any pun or joke you've been dying to write but just doesn't work in english vash (and knives!!) are right there!
#trigun#i LOVE saying 'that one time in the desert' when the whole planet is a desert it's so unhelpful its funny.#i love vash speaking french because im french and it is just. the stupidest language. the speech patterns can be so funny when overly#familiar or even rude. jveux dire imagine vash parler avec l'accent d'ta région natale ou autre. vash avec l'accent provençale jamais j'm'e#remettrais. encore pire si j'le fais parler avec mon vocabulaire du désastre. les possiblités quoi!! its also incredibly funny to me that#knives could also speak in any other languages. like what if he gets mad and decides to talk to the gung ho guns in idk finnish instead#OR WHAT IF KNIVES SOMTIME USE VERLAN PUTAIN ce serait génial. ive been thinking about it since ive read the manga. theres so many#hilarious tings we could do. real untapped potential. everyone you have the possibility to do the funniest thing pls.
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Hot take: it's fucking idiotic to call someone who is just calmly trying to explain their actions or emotions 'rude'. It's ESPECIALLY idiotic to say that to a small child. You'll end up turning them into a fucking doormat unable to speak up for themselves (me)
Kids can't properly control tone yet. I ESPECIALLY couldn't due to autism. So to hold a kids tone to the importance of the tone of an actor on set to get the correct feel is completely idiotic. And some teen girls literally *just sound like that*. They aren't "being rude" that's just what her voice sounds like. They aren't "making excuses" they are genuinely trying to fucking communicate their reasons so that an understanding can be reached. This shit is why EVERYONE SUCKS AT COMMUNICATING AND WE NEED TO FUCKING STOP DISCOURAGING HONEST AND OPEN COMMUNICATION
Most kids are innately honest until they are taught to lie by society or their parents. By making them FEAR honesty. By punishing them for communicating you are teaching them to lie. You are making lieing feel like the safest option even when you punish for lies. Because at least with the lie there's a chance of no punishment, but with the truth you'll 100% get punished.
#hot take#kids#psycology#communication#not a shitpost#autism#adhd#lies#large truth#language#honesty#rude#tone
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When someone speaks a foreign language in public and I’m desperately trying not to stare like I’m sorry I’m not racist I just desperately want to hear the different vowel sounds you’re making. sorry.
#also every time I hear a language in public I wanna figure out what it is#and don’t even get me started on if it’s one I recognize#if it’s Japanese I’m like#if they say one of the few words I can understand I go insane#even if they just use particles. and I hear/recognize them. it’s so exciting for me#<-(I’m a nerd and this is what qualifies as fun for me)#but also it’s rude to stare and eavesdrop too much I’m sure#and I don’t want people to feel uncomfortable#Quinn posts#language#langblr#linguistics#language learning#languages#100#500
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Two skeletons in a trench lab coat (Patreon)
Bonus:
He’s very careful! Everything was fine before you interrupted!
#Doodles#Handplates#UT#FJdlsafjdsf Handplates fuzzes my brain#I cannot tell you how weird it feels to draw Gaster with the Lost Soul head after all this time away haha#It drops me back into the person I was when I first read Handplates - for better or for worse. It's a very strange feeling#Even drawing Sans and Papyrus again sends me back! Not as strongly but certain little details stand out#Sans' eyes especially... Very strange feeling#Anyhow! Since Fellplates sent me back down the rabbit hole and I've gotten back into rereading lightly - still not a full commitment!#Maybe soon tho 👀 I feel like I always say that haha#But in the meantime thinking of the pre-Plates Handplates time period <3 Since that's the one I'm still most familiar with haha#I love when they're still growing and learning ♪ Scaffolded baby talk! Twin language! Love 'em ♥#And fearless* mischievous little troublemakers hehe#They're so cute <3 I love the little ways they interact as young'uns - like when Papyrus will just lift Sans by his arms lol#I'd been thinking about and then had to go read the one of Sans as a the blanket/coat tickle monster and then - this ✨#''Excuse me sir I'd like One Ticket to the R Rated movie I am an adult Monster'' lol#Probably another one of those moments where Gaster is just *nervously sweats in Dad* lol - stop being so cute!#Also there's no particular meaning to when I use WingDings for his text :P Just convenience and if I remember to lol#Comics where he talks a lot are not convenient XP I have enough trouble editing on this paper ugh I will Not miss it when it's done#Even attempted this comic in as few pencil strokes/erasing as possible and it was still a pain to work with! >:0 Rude#Doubly so that I've had a Handplates comic idea for past like - year lol - and /this/ was the first one I finished pfftbl#To be fair to the other I do want to at least attempt making it a look-alike hehe ♪ You know how it is with Ideas™#I can't be too mad about it haha ♫ It did turn out quite cute after all :3
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did you know in japanese, instead of saying 'little buddy', arven amends -chan to anything from pokemon names to concepts
goggy
#arven#mabosstiff#pokemon#pokemon sv#he also refers to himself as pepaa-oniisan#and uses pretty rude language otherwise#fascinating guy#note my japanese reading level is '1st grader'. please be nice to me.
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what i like especially about the pronouns in the goblin emperor is that this language doesn't just have the T-V distinction (aka informal vs. formal second-person pronouns, in this case 'thou' vs. 'you'), it also has informal and formal first-person pronouns. having BOTH of these distinctions in the same language lets you fine-tune your tone by mixing and matching. with only one axis of formality, when you use informal pronouns, are you being familiar in an intimate way, or in an insolent or dismissive way? when you use formal pronouns, are you being polite or standoffish? you can't tell just from the pronouns; there's ambiguity. but a language where you can use a formal first-person pronoun in the same sentence as an informal second-person pronoun allows you to distance yourself (via the formal first) while also being familiar (via the informal second), thereby achieving the conversational tenor known to linguists as Fuck Thee Specifically.
#just kidding i don't know what linguists call that tenor. or any tenors. i'm not totally positive what a tenor even is#but i can't let that stop me from writing a jokey post on tumblr dot com#register is a very interesting area of linguistics that i know very little about#so i'm probably revealing the depths of my vast ignorance here to all the sociolinguists who surely hang on my every word#but i've always thought of the formal/informal pronoun thing as being about two things: intimacy-distance & rudeness-politeness#and of course you can usually tell from context whether a formal pronoun is meant to indicate distance or politeness#(plus distance and politeness are related to each other (to various degrees depending on culture))#but it seems like it would be cool to have a built-in alignment chart of sorts just for pronoun combos#instead of prep jock nerd goth...why not try intimate self-effacing polite superior?#the goblin emperor#pronouns#register#sociolinguistics#my posts#f#anyway i know i said i wasn't going to reread the goblin emperor...but guess what. lol#and i edited my tags on that earlier post but fyi the language DOES distinguish between plural and formal singular pronouns#i had said i thought it used the same pronouns for plural and formal but i just wasn't paying close enough attention#so anyway i just reread the part where maia is talking to setheris in formal first and informal second#and you can see setheris going ohhh shit. oh shit oh shit oh shit#i'm in biiiiiig trouble#you sure are dude. that's the Time to Grovel signal#it's interesting because at the very beginning of the book when i first saw the formal first used i just thought it was the royal we#because i knew the main character was supposed to be royalty#but then EVERYONE was doing it. so it's not the royal we it's just the formal we#however. this does make me realize that the way the royal we would function in a language that retains the t-v distinction#is the same way i'm describing here. it's just reserving that particular tone (i'm better than you and am displeased with you)#for royalty only. which makes sense given royalty's whole deal
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I was talking with my friend yamina about German endearments for these two and she suggested Großer (big boy (fond)) which was too cute, I had to do something with it.
[patreon]
#team fortress 2#heavy#medic#heavymedic#red oktoberfest#z art#z comic#very beautiful very powerful#i love my gigantic husband#i was wondering if there was something that fit better than schatzi or liebling and this is perfect#she says medic in german has an interesting mix of professionalism and respect mixed with some rude language#he uses the formal you! and apparently sounds like how someone his age would sound like at this time period#i just love stuff like this don't mind me#(she thinks his fake german in english is hilarious)
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Health and Hybrids (XIX)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here PART EIGHTEEN is here...nineteen...oy vey.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... THE BART RETURNS! The earth rejoices! 🥳🎉 Physical therapy can be fun, even if it usually isn't!
Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
Danny learns a few more words with practice.
Foda is simple. If Danny is hungry, he can ask for foda. It sounds exactly like food, and when he asks, they feed him.
…Or they up his IV. Which. Danny’s tongue might still feel sore and nasty, but the doctors and nurses and millions of minders don’t seem that mad when he sticks his tongue out at them. Sometimes they even laugh.
They don’t even sound all that mean.
It takes Danny a good chunk of waking time for him to realize that he…probably is hooked up to something he doesn’t want to think about, since all the efforts of lifting and moving him haven’t resulted in a single bathroom trip since he woke up here.
Firstly: horrible.
Secondly: his legs are super, absolutely, positively immobilized, and if someone doesn’t give him enough medication quickly enough after it wears off, Danny is very aware that something is deeply wrong with them.
So. Uh. That’s…gross.
He learns bealo just as quickly. He isn’t sure what bealo means, per se, but when he says it, they up his medication until Danny can pretend he doesn’t have any legs again.
God niht is goodnight, unless Danny is feeling snippy, and then it’s just niht.
…The one lady who minds him always says the whole thing, though. Even when Danny’s mean. Like the one time he threw his rocket at someone.
Or the time he started ignoring everyone when they tried to touch him.
…Or the one time he tried to freeze his IV bag, and put everyone on alert because if he’d been human, that would have seriously hurt him.
“Sorry,” Danny’d whispered, even if it wouldn’t mean anything to her.
She’d patted his hand and meant it. Danny’d had to dry his eyes with his wrist. “Eall es wel.”
Anyway.
Danny hates being in the freaking bed every hour of every day. So when his “sitting up” exercises turn into “hey, let’s try the wheelchair” practice, Danny gets so excited-slash-nervous that he kind of feels like he’s going to throw up all the liquids he’s been injected with.
None of the regular people try to lift him. Instead the lady does it herself, scooping Danny up in very strong arms, the golden cuffs on her wrists weirdly warm on Danny’s skin. When Danny’s settled, his legs sticking out real weird and his back kind of sore, he’s…out of bed.
He’s. He’s not in bed anymore.
And. Sure. It’s temporary, but it’s not the bed. Danny can wriggle, and he can sort of palm the wheels underneath him with the heels of his shaky hands, and he can see so much more of himself than he has in ages and ages.
For one. Both of his legs are in casts. That’s. Not good. He can’t feel it right now, but the sight of fully encased legs…
Well. If he can transform that won’t be a problem. If. If he has to escape. But it is…it’s super scary. He mostly remembers being captured, but the…the other people had been focusing more on his thoracic cavity and his face and head.
…So why are his legs so bad? Did something else happen?
(It did, didn’t it?)
(…Didn’t it??)
His hands shake, but there’s something to all that grip training, or else Danny wouldn’t be able to paw at his neckline to look down his own shirt. Or, well, his cloth nightie, anyway.
It’s good that he looks, since, well…his chest is glowing a solid green.
Whatever should probably be scar tissue. Uh. It…isn’t. There’re gouges down his chest and a crater where his heart should be that probably should be healing over, considering, you know, he’s not freaking dead at this exact second (mostly??), but. Instead of, like, healed flesh, or, say, his insides, there’s a transparent green…jelly… holding him together.
He can see how the green bounces with his heart beat.
...Danny drops the neckline of his gown. His breath comes in choking bursts, eyes pressed into his eye sockets—he feels sick.
He is sick. He has been sick.
The humans are keeping him here because he’s a freak of nature and he’s broken from head to toe and the Guys in White carved his flesh out of his body and opened him up like a can of cranberry sauce.
He presses his hands to his chest, to his stomach, just trying to breathe for long enough that he doesn’t throw up his oatmeal and occasional juice and IV nutrition onto the pristine floor of his sickroom. The people around him all make sympathetic noises that don’t help because he doesn’t know what they mean.
And then he feels something weird.
Not all the sensation in his fingers are back. It’s easier for him to feel impediments than it is to feel textures—something that blocks him from moving, rather than anything sensory-specific. He can usually tell when he touches fabric, because when he moves too far, it pulls tight around his hand. He can tell when he’s on something solid when his hand fails to go through it.
There is something solid sticking out of him.
Danny’s heartbeat quickens. It’s not. It’s. There’s something in him.
And it’s not—it’s so solid. When Danny brushes his hands against it, he can feel his skin and his flesh move with it, trying not to dislodge the thing embedded in him. It pulls at his skin. He doesn’t know what it is.
His fingers tremble as he tries to brush over the object through his gown, trying to figure out its shape from faulty touch alone. It’s like waking up to find himself jammed with needles all over again.
People are talking around them. Danny doesn’t try to listen in. He’s scared. He’s so scared. Something’s happened to him, and he didn’t even notice.
Some of it is—hard. There’s a crinkling sound when he moves. Danny manages to pull his gown neckline back again to catch something of a glimpse, and all he sees is plastic.
He doesn’t know what it is.
He doesn’t know who to ask. He can’t understand anyone and he doesn’t know if he trusts them.
They put something in him. There’s something embedded in him.
He thinks he’s going to cry.
Something touches his arm—Danny flinches. His core tightens with stress as he puts a metaphorical hand on the button, ready to run and hide at any notice.
It’s the lady. He knows her.
No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know her at all. He can’t talk to her in any way that matters. She’s not a doctor. He doesn’t know why she’s here, or why she’s keeping him here.
She’s nice. She fed him. But is that all it takes to trick him? To make him compliant? Pliable?
She stops touching him when he gets scared, her eyes worried. She kneels—closer than Danny would like, probably, but she keeps her hands to herself. Danny’s heart races faster, out of order, starting and stopping and starting again like a bad engine.
“Eow eart wel?” she asks from his left arm rest, a common question, so softly. Danny doesn’t know what it means. “Eall es wel. Ænlic eow, ænlic me. Bruce bræð wið me?”
She takes a big, deep, breath. Her hand rises slightly over her chest, following an exaggerated movement. Don’t panic. Breathe. Breathe like me. One, two, three.
Danny’s breaths are more choked. More panicked.
But when she breathes, he breathes with her—even with every stutter in between.
“Hwæt es woh[O3] ?” the lady asks, so gently it’s almost a whisper. Her pointer finger hovers over his body, but doesn’t touch—and eventually, Danny figures out she probably wants to know where he’s hurting.
But he’s not hurting. He’s scared. There’s something inside him, and he isn’t sure what it is. He presses the heel of his hand to the object. He feels something rigid refuse to bend inside his flesh.
There’s something of recognition in the woman’s face. “Inne cwic tima,” she says, more certain of answers outside the room, and darts away,
Danny wants to bounce his bound leg. He feels awful when anyone is in the room with him, considering how little of them he knows, but, somehow, it’s so much worse when he’s actually alone.
When she comes back, there’s a second person who walks through the double doors with her, in blue scrubs with ducks on them. They wave to Danny.
Danny…blinks. He feels numb. It’s kind of a problem.
They take it in stride, though; in their hands is a blank board and a chunky marker. The cap comes off, the new person scribbles for a minute or so, and then turns the board around so that Danny can see.
It’s a…person. A rudimentary outline person, sure, with some visible bones and organs to fill in the person-shaped outline. Danny can recognize most of them from anatomy class, although those memories are more…personal, now. A little more painful.
The person taps on the board. The person points to Danny.
Danny frowns.
The person turns the board back around and makes some Pew, Pew, Pew! sounds with their mouth, occasionally opening and closing their hand over the board to match the noise. There’s some more scribbling. When the board turns back around, there’s a violent smudge of marker on top of the drawn person’s drawn intestines.
The person takes their covered pinky finger and erases a little neat circle of marker in the intestines, mostly favoring one side. They draw a little arrow from the hole to the general outside-of-the-person blank area. Then another circle, with a thicker circle inside.
Danny recognizes the object jutting out of him. Oh. This is how he got it.
The person—probably a doctor, Danny guesses, or the surgeon who did this to him—do these people even need credentials, actually?—hands the board over to the lady. They hold out ten outstretched fingers, marker under their arm, and make a show of counting every one of the outstretched fingers with the opposite hand. Then they take the board back.
And then, when they write on the board, Danny can actually understand what they say.
Or, well, it’s numbers! The numbers are the same as his—the line and a circle is clearly meant to be a ten, and the little x is a multiplication symbol— they draw a 10, as clearly and a brightly as it could be against a stark white board, and add a little x 7, probably to indicate a week; the result is ten suns times seven, or seventy suns.
Danny feels his heart bounce in his chest. Danny would bet a whole lot of money that the number is meant to be seventy days. There is an end point. It’s not that Danny is free to be subjected to random anatomical whims—there’s a goal here. This was purposeful.
The little circle-within a circle gets erased. The hole is scribbled through as if it was never there, and the person makes a weaving gesture with the marker that Danny is certain is meant to be sewing.
Tears prick at his eyes. The lady gets close by him again, but Danny lets her. His hands aren’t good enough for wiping tears the way he wants to, yet. Help and company are good.
She gives him a tissue from Danny's bedside table. He takes it with a whisper of a grip.
“Seventy?” Danny rasps, tearful. Hopeful. Terrified of hope. He practically jams the tissue into his eye sockets.
The lady’s eyes go wide. “Seventy,” she repeats, marveling.
It’s enough. Nothing is perfect, but it’s enough. And if Danny's allowed to spend so long in front of the space window that he falls asleep in his wheelchair, well. It's not like he was in charge of where they went.
#*hip checks through the door* hey losers! Guess who uses Arabic numbers!! Two earths!!#also if ANYONE is shitty about stoma bags or ostomy bags on this fic or in this chat I'm going to fight you. Lots of people have them.#they're usually a temporary procedure and even if they're not they're pretty normal and a lot of people have them. I knew at least one#like haha this is a body horror fic but ostomy bags are a REAL THING that people HAVE as part of their medical journey DO NOT be rude!!#So what we know of his injuries now: messed up legs. Messed up guts. Messed up chest. Is there more...? Who can say. 👀#health and hybrids#dp x dc#dcu crossover#tw gore#tw medical#tw body horror#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom#incarceration to elopement to healthcare pipeline#His healing is speeding up and his language is getting better! When can we get a Diana POV?? <- me to me
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love you lesbians who are men or boys or bois or genderfucked or bigender or pangender or multigender or genderqueer or don't align with the term "non-men" cuz fuck that term
#had an experience yesterday .was trying to put more inclusive language onto a board describing lesbian#and a very Rude someone was like Nuh uh we arent doing that non-men is Inclusive and what youre doing isnt#(it was)#whatever. the rest of the event was nice#i lovr u men lesbians#mossy's mumblings#loveposting
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