#the defiant one

[dailystargatebooty]

[lightthewaybackhome]

Stargate-Atlantis S1:E11 The Defiant One

This episode has a lot of iconic lines and moments. It has the standard unknown scientists that are there to serve as cannon fodder, but even that's handled pretty well with Gull. But the gem of this episode is Rodney wanting to get in the fight, which is a huge character growth for him. Sheppard tells him to only shoot when he's told, then Rodney repeats the same line to Gull later.

Sheppard is awesome, thinks on his feet, has to direct Rodney on how to save him, and finally gets the Wraith in the end.

Just a solid friendship in action episode after the heart-rending of the last 3.

[lightthewaybackhome]

Good episode.

John Sheppard + Rodney McKay 

Stargate: Atlantis 1.12 “The Defiant One”

[nigesakis]

Sidney Poitier and Tony Curtis in

THE DEFIANT ONES (1958) dir. Stanley Kramer

[saint-cadaver]

The princesses in the tower

[rynnthefangirl]

I love so much the concept of the dragons being tied to Targaryen women and their fertility. It plays so poignantly into the history of House Targaryen in Westeros. The Targaryens come to Westeros, and in an attempt to consolidate their power, they assimilate into the oppressive social structures of Westeros, sacrificing and devaluing their women to do so. Rhaena, Aerea, Rhaenys, Rhaenyra, Daena, Naerys, Rhaella, and so many more — crushed under the heels of their brothers and fathers and uncles in order to appease the lords of the realm. And in doing so, the Targaryens ironically kill their true source of power. Dragon egg production is high before Dance, as Syrax and her rider Rhaenrya’s fertility flourishes as one. Then Rhaenyra is usurped and killed, and suddenly, no eggs can hatch. It speaks to the general devaluing of women’s labor and contributions, not just in House Targaryen, but in broader Westeros and our own world. It is not the fighting or the conquering or the crown or the Sword or the Iron Throne that forms the weight bearing beams of the House of the Dragon. It is female fertility, labor, childbirth, motherhood. The latter had been exploited for the sake of the former for 300 years, chipping away at that load bearing beam until the House collapses around them, dragons and crowns and thrones and men and women alike.

And the one to bring it all back? A girl. Overlooked and underestimated, her value tied solely to the son she could bear or the army she can be sold to buy. But the true power is intrinsic to her. All the men think themselves the great saviors of their house and their world— with women like Lyanna Stark and Elia Martell being sacrificed at the altar of Targaryen men’s destiny— but it is Daenerys Stormborn, Daughter of Dragons, Bride of Dragons, Mother of Dragons, who succeeds where they all failed.

[thresholdbb]

I have a gripe about the Star Trek mugs...

Picard's teacup is a delicate, fragile little thing held by a strip of plastic and a dream. That thin glass will break if you look at it sideways. And where do they put that ridiculous tiny cup? On the Enterprise, which is always being dragged into conflict

The DS9 raktajino mugs are hefty, wide-based things that are meant to not tip over. They're called no-spill mugs. They have a foam piece on the bottom so they don't slip. They're incredibly sturdy – meant for ships and traveling! Where do they put them? At the station, which is arguably the most stable place they could be cause DS9 rarely gets knocked about.

Far as I'm concerned, Janeway's the only one doing practical space mugs correctly. Come on, a metal travel mug that's as strong as her coffee is black? Takes a beating through 70,000 light years of bridge shakes fighting off the Borg and the Hirogen and still holds a hot drink? Now that's a space mug

[whumblr]

Home alone

Prev chapter: Taken- pt 1 here

-

“I know you’re awake,” Roman’s voice sounded, too close. “Why don’t you open your eyes.”

Dani shifted under the covers, nestled further in and mumbled: “Because I’d have to see things I don’t like.” It was too early to see Roman’s fucking face first thing in the morning.

Roman hummed in understanding. “Like this knife,” he said after a beat.

She didn’t move yet but her eyes shot open.

A chuckle followed. His hands were empty. Fingers laced, resting on his stomach, legs crossed, sitting in her chair at the end of her bed, crumpling up her jeans. He opened his hands, fingers still laced turning his palms up, showing he wasn’t hiding anything.

Dani groaned and rolled onto her back. Yeah, she sure was awake now.

“I brought you breakfast,” he said, noticing her side-eye towards the plate spying what he’d brought her. “I’m going to leave in a bit. Out for some business. I’ll get some groceries on the way back, anything you want?”

Yeah, a gun, but she didn’t say as much. “Chocolate,” she said instead, voice still hoarse with sleep, just to say anything really though she did crave it. And to her surprise he nodded when he got up from the chair. She’d figured she’d have to earn such things.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said in a playful tone and closed the door behind him. The key rattled against the lock, the doorknob twisted as he tested to make sure she was locked in, and his footsteps retreated down the stairs.

Dani waited under the covers until she heard the front door slam shut in a somewhat more distant part of the house, then she threw the covers aside and sat up.

She shot into her jeans, pulled on a t-shirt over her tank top and put her hair up into a neater, less bed-heady high pony tail.

And as she did, she pulled a bobby pin from her hair.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she repeated sarcastically and sat cross-legged in front of the door.

The bobby pin alone had been useless for lockpicking, she’d already found out. Days of prodding and tickling the lock with nothing to show for it. But with the combined forces of the large paperclip she had stolen from Roman’s desk – she pulled it free from the loop of the bobby pin, both hiding in her thick hair –  now there was a winning combo.

It had surprised her, actually, the first time she tried it and the lock sprang open. She’d done a small victory lap around the house, but hadn’t dared to try his office yet. She needed a plan first.

She had been waiting for Roman to leave her alone for a day and now she finally had her chance.

As she worked she nibbled on the toast he’d brought her. With the literal electric device around her ankle, she didn’t really have any hopes of getting out of the house yet, but still... If there was going to be an opportunity, say, she found the remote for the blasted thing, she’d be out of here in no time. And judging by the view from the library, she would have a long forest trek ahead of her, civilization miles away.

The lock clicked and she almost literally inhaled the last piece of bread dangling between her teeth, sucking it into her mouth, chewing vigorously as she pushed the door open in triumph.

She sprang to her feet, out the door, leaned over the banister to look down into the main hall to make sure Roman wasn’t glaring up at her, silently ordering her to go back into her room. But the house was silent. And she had it all to herself. She dipped back into the room for a minute, munching down the rest of her breakfast, quickly washing it down with the orange juice he brought.

Back on the landing she had a range of options.

Oh, how she wanted to comb through the file cabinet in the library. Or see if his computer was protected as well as this house.

But first things first. An opportunity like this may not come again and getting out had more priority than sketchy information. If Roman kept the stupid remote in his pocket at all times, she was pretty screwed. Maybe she could cut the ankle band with a bolt cutter or look for a saw somewhere if push came to shove, but looking for the remote came with the option of rummaging through his office. Who knew what else she could find. Or maybe call for help. If there was nothing, she could always go for the library again.

The door to Roman’s office clicked open just as easily as her own door.

Everything on his desk was neatly tidied up. No files strewn around for him to get back to later, all papers and notebooks meticulously put away. He’d probably turned it into a habit now that she was often allowed to stroll around in the house, on the off chance the door was open and he wasn’t there. He just kept some books on the one corner, a desk lamp, and some office supplies, with of course a fucking hunting knife as a glorified paper knife. All electronics were turned off, laptop closed, no phone.

Maybe a burner in one of the drawers. And the remote could be hiding in there too. But as she rounded the desk, something moved.

“Well, well, w—”

“Jesus!” Dani all but screamed and literally jumped a few feet back.

The office chair on the other side of the desk slowly spun around. Roman beamed at her, legs crossed, hands in his lap, slowly twirling into view, looking like a fucking B-movie villain.

Dani huffed out an indignant scoff, her heart still in her throat from the unexpected twist.

“Figured you’d come here,” Roman said, pushing his fingertips together, leering at her like she was prey caught in a trap.

She fought the impulse to just bolt. She wouldn’t get far anyway. And the glint of the knife on the desk drew her attention.

“How did you know?” she said after a long exhale to steady her nerves, and she took a step towards the desk.

“Motion sensor camera’s. Your first escapade didn’t go unnoticed. Wanna see?” He opened his laptop, tapped it back to life and turned the monitor towards her, showing a notification of ‘motion detected’ and a still of her sneaking over the landing like a thief in the night. “I knew you’d take the first opportunity to try again. But you couldn’t just leave the house.” He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out the little remote. “You’d need this.”

Her expression soured. Of course he kept it on him. Still, kind of him to show her that. And to her, his words couldn’t sound more like an unsaid ‘you’ll get that remote over my dead body’ and she’d gladly oblige.

“Yes, I do.”

She lunged forward. Her hand closed around the handle of the knife, but the brief sense of victory was squashed when his hand immediately clamped around her wrist and pressed it into the wood. She glared up. He smiled back. She pulled at the grip but he only replied by squeezing her wrist harder. And harder. Until she yelped in pain, but she didn’t let go yet. Only when he pulled her wrist up and slammed her fist into the desk, once, twice, the knife slipped from her hand.

“Thank you.” Roman casually took it from her. Twirled it in his hand into a backhanded grip.

The twirl had effect, it caught her full attention and she was sure he was about to drive the blade into her fist. But instead, a hand slithered to her neck, his grip turned bruising, and all of a sudden forced her forward and he slammed her face-down into the desk.

Her head exploded in pain. Her vision went white. And her body went limp.

Muscles turned to strings of goo and she slowly sank to her knees, sliding from the desk to the floor.

Roman let her. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a coil of thin silver wire.

As she was still trying to expel the tiny flashes in her vision, Roman took the opportunity, ripping her hand away from her brow, pressed her wrists together, and he looped the wire several times around her wrists.

She hissed when the razor sharp wire immediately snagged against her skin and her light struggle only made it dig in deeper. A drop of blood already welled up.

“Don’t fight it now, dear. You’d just cut off your own hands.” He tied the end on the whirl of silver in-between her wrists and lightly tugged at it, making sure it held and pulled at it to get her to get up. “Now come along.”

She had no choice but to let him drag her along to the basement.

He deposited her to the floor, right under a pair of chains dangling from the ceiling.

Her stomach churned when she looked up, a foreboding sensation tingling all over her body, freezing her muscles and she didn’t dare even get up.

Lighter metal jingled and Roman advanced on her, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. He cuffed it to the wire around her wrists, pulled her arms up and attached the other end to the chain dangling above her.

Again she hissed, the wire pulling at her skin, tightening around her wrists. She aimed a glare at Roman but he already walked away from her. He stopped near one of the support beams, slowly unrolled the rope looped around the hook there. Dani followed the rope with her eyes, over the ceiling beams, tied to a metal bolt, linking it with those chains right above her—

“No…”

She scrambled to get her feet under her. Just in time as Roman pulled hard at the rope. It yanked mercilessly against the chains, against the cuffs, against her skin and she couldn’t help a cry of pain as it pulled her faster to her feet.

He stopped when she was on tip-toes, struggling to keep balance. Then he firmly grasped the rope, braced himself, looked her straight in the eyes, and gave a final heave.

Her feet left the ground and she kicked out in panic, only making things worse. The wire dug into her skin and she cried out in surprise. “No. No! Let me down!”

“Very well.”

The tips of her toes brushed over the floor again and she breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, he didn’t lower her any further.

She tapped a few tiny steps back and forth. With her arms in the air, though nowhere as graceful, she almost looked like a ballerina. She nearly twirled on the spot and only managed to prevent doing so by pulling hard against the rope. She grit her teeth, lost and let out a whine as her head fell back. It worked though. It hurt, but it worked. She managed to get back into position, maintaining her balance and lessening the strain against her wrists and she stood stock still on tip-toes.

Roman simply watched her strain, nodded in approval and looped the rope back against the hook. It mercilessly kept her up. He walked back towards her, stopped right in front of her.

Helpless, she had to allow him into her bubble. Couldn’t fight or flinch back, couldn’t buck against him to get him to back the fuck off. The only thing she could do was glare at him, but with her trembling like a leaf – and she was sure he could fucking feel it so close as he was – and her face twisted in a grimace, the glare surely looked more like a plea of mercy.

Without a word he reached up, lightly closed his hands around her forearms and slowly stroked down the length of her arms, tenderly, his eyes not leaving hers. His hands came to a rest on her shoulders, gave a small reassuring squeeze, pressed down for a bit just to see her wince, and then he finally stepped back.

He looked at his fingers, hummed, and wiped the streak of blood off on her shirt. His hand dipped down, stroked her hip, and slipped into her pocket. He fished out the bobby pin and paper clip. “I knew I didn’t lose this,” he murmured and put it in his own pocket, backing away towards the stairs.

“Now, then. This time I am going for some groceries. It might take a while.” He stopped near the stairs, hand on the railing, turned towards her with a smile, and again said in an even more patronizing voice: “Don’t go anywhere.”

-

Tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @whumpy-daydreams

@whumpyourdamnpears @auroragehenna @alsolucakairomi @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumppmuhw

@untethered-symphony @withdrawingramen @theforeverdyingperson @treasureguardingdragon @theorangestofjuices

[whump-in-the-closet]

i love love love when whumpees curse out their whumper. blood trickling out with their words, teeth bared and every sound vicious. and when the whumper replies by leaning in with the smallest of smiles and strokes their face. “careful.”

and whumpee whimpers. shrinking back, the bite in their eyes fading into terror. crying, shaking, pleading.

[kazz-brekker]

i present: my extremely long and highly specific list of book recs for my fellow rings of power fans

[sga-mcshep-4ever]

McShep out of context.

[dailystargatebooty]

[lightthewaybackhome]

The Defiant One (S1:E12)

@colonelshepparrrrd gave me a better chronological order list for SG-1 and SGA. I kinda messed it up because I was determined to watch Home, the Storm, and the Eye all together. After that, I had a big block of SG-1 to watch, but I'm finally back to some SGA. Yay!

Sheppard: Stay behind me. Shoot only when I tell you to shoot.

Rodney: Take this, but don't shoot at anything until I tell you to.

Rodney repeated Sheppard's orders to Gull, but then he had to have Sheppard give him orders to shoot the Wraith and reload. I love it.

The comradery in this episode is so strong. Sheppard goes to fight the Wraith, Rodney wanting in the fight, Rodney coming to save him but not knowing how, Sheppard orchestrating his own rescue, and being smart. Through it all, it's Sheppard and Rodney together.

I love that you can see how their friendship has grown after the Storm and the Eye. They trust each other and are starting to work well as a team.

I also love how Elizabeth anticipated that they would need help and sent them help. Just such a stronly-feminine move.

[jordanstrophe]

Abandoned whumpee: Final 1/2

CW: Betrayal, team whump, whumper turned caretaker, assassination attempt, hurt/comfort, annggsst

[Previous] - [Masterlist] - [Next]

Whumper watched over whumpee all throughout the night. Whumpee would wake up, not remember where they were, then struggle until whumper soothed them back asleep.

Whumper knew the sleepless nights would catch up with them eventually. They downed a tall cup of coffee, hoping to stay awake until morning...

------

Whumpee woke up that morning staring wide-eyed at whumper fast asleep on the bed with them. "Hey." Whumpee spoke, testfully poked whumper's arm. They groaned, but remained out cold.

Whumpee climbed over them and touched their bare foot to the floor, they immediately felt something cold as they flinched. There was spilt coffee at the foot of the bed along with an assortment of papers. They were badly stained, any information whumpee could have gleaned were long gone.

A silver key was dangling from whumper's pocket. If whumpee couldn't find information here, then there would be something elsewhere.

They clutched the key and snuck out of the infirmary. There were guards patrolling the halls as whumpee ducked around the corner. They let the guards pass, before slipping into the hall behind them. Whumpee tried every door they passed, all locked tight and the key fit none of them.

There was one last engraved door at the end of the hall. Whumpee heard the guards coming back around as they trembled and kept missing the keyhole. There was a silent *click* as the door swung open. Whumpee jumped in and shut the door behind them, taking a deep sigh of relief.

They stood in what seemed to be whumper's office; a large wooden desk, walls adorned with weapons, massive bookshelves. Everything whumpee expected whumper's office to look like, really.

They turned on a lamp and rooted through the desk. There were moundfuls of documents detailing whumpee's team. There were things here whumpee didn't even know... Things they weren't classified to know. They were told whumper was a murderer, someone who killed on sight; they took no prisoners and mercy was unheard of.

"Then why did you save me?" Whumpee whispered, looking at a framed picture of whumper proudly standing with their team. "Why capture me for intel if you had it already?"

In the depths of a drawer, whumpee found a roughly bound journal. It was branded with whumpee's team logo. They recognized it; each team carried one to document missions. Even whumpee had their own, though this one looked ancient...

They opened the first page before suddenly, the door opened and the lights flashed on. Whumpee gasped and dropped the book, frozen as they looked up like a deer in headlights. The person staring back had the very same expression. Horror, adrenaline, confusion.

-It was one of whumpee's teammates, dressed darkly and hooded as they took an astonished step towards whumpee.

"Whumpee? You're alive?" They whispered. "How? We thought they killed you." They gasped. Whumpee covered their mouth and clambered back to their feet. They were flooded with relief seeing a friendly face. They tried to figure out how to say a million words in a single breath.

"It's a long story-" Whumpee heaved, "I've been kept here by whumper, I got hurt in the attack and I-I was bleeding out and I was-" Whumpee trailed off with a flicker of doubt. They knew their team would think whumpee betrayed them if they were found alive in whumper's custody. The amount of intel that could be tortured out of them...

"I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't looking right at you." Their teammate filled in the silence, taking a step closer. "To think all this time, you survived..."

They didn't sound happy. Both of their eyes dropped to the journal between their feet, branded with their symbol.

"Ah, I see... So you found it." Their teammate stared.

"Found what? What have you not told me?" Whumpee demanded.

They crouched down to pick up the book, as they heard a *sswick* of a blade being unsheathed. Whumpee stopped in their tracks. They slowly looked up and stared into the tip of a blade and the eyes of someone who was no ally.

"I really am sorry." Their teammate whispered softly. "But you died that day, whumpee. It has to stay that way, for the good of all of us. You understand, don't you?" They took a step closer as whumpee snatched the book in their arms and backed away.

"Oh, come on, don't make this difficult. You've died once for us already. You can do it one more time, can't you?" They tilted their head.

"Can't I know why?" Whumpee's voice broke as their back hit the wall. "I- I didn't give you up, I didn't tell whumper anything. They weren't even what I thought they were... They weren't what you told me!" Whumpee suddenly shouted.

"I'm sure you didn't, you were always loyal. But it was never about that."

The blade came to their throat as whumpee shuttered and closed their eyes. The sound of a blade piercing flesh, a hot splatter of blood hit their chest, yet they felt nothing but cold adrenaline.

There was hollow silence. Whumpee opened their eyes, their teammate's face was blank as they sunk to the floor on their knees. Their silhouette was replaced by whumper, holding a dripping blade with a look of pure hatred.

"They dare set foot in my house!?" Whumper shouted. Their eyes suddenly darted to whumpee, who flinched. Their back was to the corner, face stained with blood, they trembled while hugging the journal to their chest.

"How did you get- ... No, one thing at a time." Whumper stopped themselves, putting the blade out of sight. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" They asked instead, nudging the corpse off their feet.

"I'm- ... I'm not hurt." Whumpee responded rapidly, trying not to show they were gasping for breath. "They were going to k-kill me." Whumpee touched their fingers to their chest where their teammates blood was splattered. "And you just... S-saved my life..."

"As much as I want to gloat and say I told you so- I'm just glad I got here when I did. Come with me, let's get you changed and we'll talk." Whumper held out their hand.

To be continued, 2/2

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[nigesakis]

The Defiant Ones (1958)

[a0random0gal]

I'm thinking of the incredibly vital role Rhaenyra was given after her mother died, becoming the first ever female heir to the iron throne.

How revolutionary this was, and what an opportunity it presented for all women in Westeros (outside of Dorne).

How the sexist society she lived in was less than pleased of this title and how happy it would have been to strip her of it. And how easy Rhaenyra made it for them to do so.

She knew the importance of the title she bore, she knew that every noble man in the continent would look for anything to discredit her because of mysogyny, she knew that how she behaved would determine whether or not women would ever be considered capable of taking the weight of the crown and rule.

And she completely fumbled the bag by:

Being extremely rude and bratty to all of her suitors, refusing her arranged marriage, obviously cheating of her husband and claiming her bastards were true born, murdering said husband so she could marry her uncle (who has a terrible reputation) days after his own wife's death.

What was she thinking?

Didn't she even bother to wonder what the realm would think of her unlawful actions?

She literally proved the sexist society right, by being the most scandalous princess she could be, and that only solidified in the minds of everyone in Westeros that if you put a woman in a position of power she's gonna abuse it to do whatever she wants.

The girlboss black queen is the reason why no other Targaryen woman ever sat the iron throne after her, as her scandals and treachery turned the population against the mere though of a female ruler, in fear of having a new "Maegor with teats".