defiance**

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Defiance | Choreography by Mitchel Federan 

ft. Dancers: Kelly Choi, Arielle Libertore, Jordan Salisbury, Kat Cheng, Emily Shreffler, Michelle Barfield, Addie Byers, Alexia Meyer, Wyatt Rocker, Renato Gamez, Aaron Czuprenski, Baden Silva, Matt Fata

Music: Esmerelda by Ben Howard

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D E F I A N C E   I S   F E M A L E

Tess Asplund defying a march of 300 uniformed neo-Nazis, Sweden

Lucie Myslíková standing up to a neo-Nazi demonstrator, Czech Republic

Ieshia Evans making a stand against police brutality, Louisiana USA

Saffiyah Khan defending fellow protestor Saira Zafar at a far-right rally, UK 

Unknown woman standing up to police in a prodemocracy protest, Chile

DEATHSTROKE #23

Written by CHRISTOPHER PRIEST
Art by DIOGENES NEVES and JASON PAZ
Cover by RYAN SOOK
Variant cover by SHANE DAVIS and MICHELLE DELECKI
“Defiance” part three! As the team begins to crack under Slade’s harsh leadership tactics, Defiance is called into action after a cruise ship gets hijacked on the open seas! It’s sink or swim for Deathstroke’s new squad when they’re put to the test against impossible odds!
On sale SEPTEMBER 6 • 32 pg, FC, $3.99 US • RATED T+

*Looks at the cover*

Geez, what a surprising turn of events, I could NEVER in my life see this coming. After all, Slade was ALWAYS such a gooood father to Rose…..

I’m surprisingly sarcastic today.

- Admin

“Don’t mess with María or she’ll knock you out !” 

I do have a thing for defiant attitudes and gals that aren’t afraid to stare back… You go girls ! 

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Artist B joined Planned Parenthood to defy toxic masculinity and take down hate. What do you defy? Share a pic with #IDEFY.

Whump trope:

When the antagonist/torturer asks the defiant whumpee a casual rhetorical question about themself that suggests they're about to really fuck them up.

“It was the left leg last time, right?” - The Flash

“But a man cares about his son, eh?” - Percy Jackson

“I believe you know…[produces photograph]…this person?”

“You write with your left hand, don’t you, [name]?” - one of my own

And either the whumpee is confused and has no idea why they’ve suddenly changed the subject or they realise immediately what they intend and get an ice-cold jolt of fear right through their veins.

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“They kicked me to the head of the stairs, and stretched me over a guard-bench, pommelling me. Two knelt on my ankles, bearing down on the back of my knees, while two more twisted my wrists till they cracked, and then crushed them and my neck against the wood.

To keep my mind in control I numbered the blows, but after twenty lost count, and could feel only the shapeless weight of pain, not tearing claws, for which I had prepared, but a gradual cracking apart of my whole being by some too-great force whose waves rolled up my spine till they were pent within my brain, to clash terribly together.

… 

After the corporal ceased, the men took up, very deliberately, giving me so many, and then an interval, during which they would squabble for the next turn, ease themselves, and play unspeakably with me

… 

At last when I was completely broken they seemed satisfied. Somehow I found myself off the bench, lying on my back on the dirty floor, where I snuggled down, dazed, panting for breath, but vaguely comfortable. I had strung myself to learn all pain until I died, and no longer actor, but spectator, thought not to care how my body jerked and squealed.

I remembered the corporal kicking with his nailed boot to get me up; and this was true, for next day my right side was dark and lacerated, and a damaged rib made each breath stab me sharply. I remembered smiling idly at him, for a delicious warmth, probably sexual, was swelling through me: and then that he flung up his arm and hacked with the full length of his whip into my groin. This doubled me half-over, screaming, or, rather, trying impotently to scream, only shuddering through my open mouth. One giggled with amusement. A voice cried, ‘Shame, you’ve killed him’. Another slash followed. A roaring, and my eyes went black: while within me the core of Me seemed to heave slowly up through the rending nerves, expelled from its body by this last indescribable pang.

By the bruises perhaps they beat me further: but I next knew that I was being dragged about by two men, each disputing over a leg as though to split me apart: while a third man rode me astride. It was momently better than more flogging.

I was feeling very ill, as though some part of me had gone dead that night in Deraa, leaving me maimed, imperfect, half myself. It could not have been the defilement, for no one ever held the body in less honour than I did myself: probably it had been the breaking of the spirit by that frenzied nerve-shattering pain, which had degraded me to beast level when it made me grovel to it, and which had journeyed with me since, a fascinatiоn and terror and morbid desire, lascivious and vicious, perhaps, but like the striving of a moth towards its flame.”

-T.E. Lawrence, Seven Pillars of Wisdom (Chapter LXXX)