mine: defiance

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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

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.

youtube

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

youtube

On the 44th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, we teamed up with young artists and supporters online for #IDEFY Live. The event used art to celebrate defiance, and to show that we can work together to take down ignorance, phobia, and the status quo. Learn more at http://DefyNow.org

Writing Prompt: Dialogue

“Let me go.”

“No, no way. No you need to stay put until we get a handle on whatever it is that’s happening with you. I want you safe in [Town Name].”

“I’m not safe anywhere.”

“Yeah, okay, but–”

“And I can’t be killed.”

“Okay, but–”

“And [—-] needs you here.”

“… What do you need?”

“Keys would be nice.”

maybeawriter6  asked:

Megamind, 37 "Defy" if you want :D

As some of you know, I rarely write fanfiction because it makes me more nervous than original fiction, but because May asked …

Also, this turned out much longer than I’d planned. Sorry.

Edit: This post isn’t working right when I try to view it on mobile, so if you aren’t getting the long version of this, let me know and I’ll try and fix it.
Edit #2: I’ve contacted @staff about the “keep reading” feature problem that seems to be plaguing only my blog, from what I’ve been told, so until that gets fixed, sorry for the long post and huge block of text.

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The look on Megamind’s face was one most of the citizens of Metro City knew to some degree of well, but nowhere nearly as well as the Warden. He’d seen it again and again, countless times as his — what was he anymore? son? charge? inmate? migraine headache? — was growing up. He first noticed a much cuter version of it the first time Little Blue had gotten in trouble for raiding the prison pantry. He’d been caught, dark brown goop covering all two and a half feet of him, belly swollen after he’d managed to stuff himself with his weight in chocolate pudding after lights out. Those bright green eyes got a certain glint to them and his eyebrows dropped down, forming little baby wrinkles between them. His lips, licked clean from the chocolate, formed a pinched, sticky line. He knew he was in trouble, but he didn’t care. He’d wanted pudding, found it, gotten in trouble for it and would do it again if no one gave it to him willingly, subsequent stomach ache be damned.

Over time, that look became less cute as Blue added a sneer just big enough to reveal the glint of teeth. It showed up after the Warden confronted him following his last serious trouble at school, after escaping prison, committing his first intentional crime after the Paint Bomb Incident (age 12 — theft), at court hearing after court hearing, trial after trial, attempted heart-to-heart after attempted heart-to-heart. He’d seen it when he tried to continue calling him Blue instead of Megamind, thinking it would discourage him from heading down that road. He’d seen it after accidentally referring to Minion a fish instead of a person. The first time he told Bl-, no, Megamind the solitary confinement cell would hold him (of course, it didn’t and he only kept saying it out of hope and habit. “You’ll never leave” was more of a joke to Megamind than anything else — you could tell by the smile that the alien couldn’t suppress as it broke across his face and the Warden knew he had better start pre-medicating for the headache that was likely to soon be his).

His own face had somewhat mirrored his misbehaving charge’s when, over the years, friends, coworkers and family told him to just let Megamind go. He was clearly not interested in repaying the kindness the Warden had shown. “Whatever you want to see in him is gone,” they said.

They didn’t know. They hadn’t seen that little, chubby-cheeked face looking up at him, tears welling in those enormous green eyes, when the toddler fell again after his larger head tipped his center of gravity too far and left rug burn on his forehead. Hadn’t seen those eyes, full of panic, after a bad dream woke him in the night. They hadn’t seen the heartbroken kid after yet another day at a school full of kids who just wouldn’t like him, no matter what he did. The Warden would be stern, would be disciplinary, would be angry, disappointed, despondent, but completely turning his back on his — all right, his son — wasn’t something he was willing to do. He lost friends over it and his family whispered about it when they thought he couldn’t hear, but his conscience, at least when it came to not deserting who Megamind used to be — might still be under all the posturing and misguided genius — remained in tact.

It’s what made it all the more horrifying as he watched Megamind on the television screens going went toe to toe with what looked like an evil version of his old nemesis — more evil even than Megamind had tried to be. As soon as someone had come to free him from the chair Minion had tied him to, he’d switched every TV he could find to whatever news station was broadcasting the battle going on downtown. He’d even pulled one of the inmates with a gift for hacking into the city’s camera system and was now looking at a bank of split screens showing views from all over the city. His heart had beat a dervish against his ribs as he watched as Metro City Tower broke in half and was hurled like a javelin at his son and his passenger. The breath caught and turned to stone in his throat as the hoverbike crashed into the fountain.

His eyes were trained on the crumpled heap at the base of the fountain, so he only saw Metro Man swoop in peripherally — the same Metro Man he’d watched his son kill with a death ray. He wondered vaguely if another heroic version of the city’s hero had come in to take the fallen’s place? Or had Metro Man never really been dead? All of his focus returned to the fountain as the shape shifted into Minion. If Minion was on the ground by the fountain, where was Megamind? Where was his son?

He was too preoccupied with that question to see how it happened, but suddenly, there he was, hovering via some kind of rocket boots next to Roxanne Ritchi. The Warden’s lungs were burning as he finally released the breath he’d barely noticed was choking him. Safe. He was safe.

For the moment.

The cameras on the side streets near the fountain square caught it first and the Warden wanted to yell, wanted to warn Megamind what was coming, but it happened too fast and it wasn’t like Megamind would have heard him anyway.

“Pretty sneaky, sis, but there’s only one person I know who calls this town Metrocity.”

And there, after the initial shock, the Warden saw it again through the eyes of a news camera trained on the alien. The eyebrows dropped over the angry, glinting eyes and there was the sneer. Megamind did nothing half-way, at least not where anyone could see and he was surrounded by people. People he’d begged for a chance to save. People who had despised him for years.

Whoever was watching was about to either see a self-proclaimed villain die for the whole city or become a hero.