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carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

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Knot In Love - Alpha!Dean x Omega! Reader

A/N: Part Thirteen is back. Again, where it’s a daily thing? I am not tagging anyone new. 3pm is the magical time, usually. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy one of my favorites <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Series Warnings: Forced mating. Knotting. Alpha/Omega dynamics. Witchcraft (more based on real craft than Hollywood). Angst. Etc. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 3,800

“Y/N?” Castiel asked in confusion. He hadn't had time to learn about Dean's mate during the chaos that was Jack's birth.

“You're going to love her,” Dean enthused, on cloud nine as he drove. He'd said he needed a win. There was no better one than the man sitting in his back seat.

“She's been helping with Jack,” Sam spoke up. Helping out a bit, so it didn't seem as insane as it really was. “Dean kind of-”

“Marked her,” Dean finished for Sam. Almost proudly. Ignoring the fact that he'd been looking for a way to break the bond. Small details and all of that. “Without her permission, but all things considered-”

“You what?” Disbelief wasn't a strong enough word to explain the angel's tone. Yet, that's exactly what it was. “Dean, what were you thinking?”

“Heat of the moment,” The alpha shrugged, earning an eye roll from his brother. It was a piss poor answer and everyone knew it. The truth was, he hadn't had the control to stop it. But, he'd be damned if he admitted it there. “Anyways- you're going to love this. I go into a rut, right? And genius, here, decides to ask Jody for help. Turns out that she's Jody's niece. It's a real small world.”

“I don't see how you thought I'd love any of this.” The angel stated seriously, looking at his friend in worry.

“That's cause you don't have a sense of humor, Cas,” The older brother shot back. Using wit as a crutch to break it down. “Anyways, come to find out, she's a witch.”

“I'm still not laughing, Dean.” Was the very serious reply. “You mated a witch?” With that revelation came the next. “You left a witch with Jack?” The angel went into full father mode at the flip of a dime. “What were you thinking-”

“Dean left out the bit where it's not our traditional witch,” Sam chimed in, shooting his brother a scowl. It did no good. He was still practically dancing in his seat. Too upbeat by far. “More like a psychic than anything like Rowena. Still powerful, though.” The last bit was more of an after thought than anything.

“How do you figure that one? I know I called her a witch, but it isn't anything deep. Just wishful thinking on her part.” Dean didn't like the tone his brother had used. Almost as if in awe of what you could do. In his mind, he'd written you off as a herb loving hippie who claimed to be a witch. It was the easiest way to cope.

“She did a reading for me-”

“She what?” That time, it was the older Winchester who broke out that line. Looking almost betrayed. The angel in the back was busy looking at the ceiling. Asking his, yet again, missing father what he'd been left to deal with, mentally.

“I asked her to, Dean.” Sam answered easily. As if it was nothing to be ashamed of. And it wasn't. Yet, he wouldn't reveal the specifics. That had been meant for him, and him only. He wouldn't soil the gift you'd given.“She's the real deal. There's things she couldn't have known, but those cards-”

“A trick of the hands.” Dean grumbled, his mood turning sour. He didn't want to think about your power. That stuck a little too close to him given Billie's inclusion of your name. “A hell of a fast one, I'm sure.”

“Dean...All she did was pull the cards from the top of the deck. She talked to me while I shuffled, but...I...I watched. There was nothing.” That was somehow worse than the thought of you tricking Sam. It made you a threat. “There wasn't a trick. Then, there's the wind-”

“What wind?” Suddenly, the surly Dean was back in full force. Eyes blazing.

“She taught Jack how to whistle up a wind,” Sam didn't want to admit it by that point. However, he knew enough to know that it would fester to the breaking point if he didn't. You'd be on the receiving end. “She's not like Rowena...not even close, but Y/N...She's a witch.” It was a simple statement. “You mated a witch, Dean. And right now? That witch is teaching the son of Lucifer how to control himself.” Dean swallowed hard. “That's just... fact. You can't run away from it.”

“Watch me,” With that, his hand jerked over to the radio. Hitting the button so that the music ended the conversation without a hitch.

–

“I did it,” Jack laughed, staring at the pencil that he'd let fall on the ground. Cheeks no doubt aching from the sizable grin. “I really did it.”

“You did good,” Your answer was drawn out. The exhaustion never seemed to leave. “Why don't we take a break?”

Just like that, all cheer drained from the room, “Maybe you need to go to a doctor,” His worry was evident as he stared you down. Taking in just how weak you really were.

“I don't need a doctor, Jack.” You needed your mate. The one that you couldn't get a hold of due to your destroyed phone. “I'll just close my eyes a bit, okay?”

Your arms cushioned your head as they drifted shut. There was no theatrical wait. You were out in seconds.

Instead of it just being a bit, you slept against the table in the library for hours. Jack entertained himself with the laptop. He didn't even blink when he felt Dean approach. Simply stared at the screen, typing away.

“How'd it go?” He asked readily. Quiet enough that it wouldn't wake you.

“Well,” Dean spoke up, leading the way. Sam on his heels. Everything he'd been about to say faded as he caught side of you in the distance. You were too deep into the exhaustion to be awoken by the gaze. Your breathing was soft as you snuggled into your own arm.

“Jack, um...” Sam wasn't much better. But, it got Jack to look upwards.

“What's wrong?” He'd been around long enough to identify that tone. Something wasn't being said. Both men simply turned to the opening.

There, the man in the trench coat walked forward, “Hello, Jack.” His deep, rumbling voice sounded too familiar to ignore.

“Castiel?” His shoulders straightened out as he sat more upright. Processing the newest twist.

“Yeah, it's me.” The angel sighed out. Looking more than a little nervous at the reunion. Lip twitching as he took in the child he'd been so eager to meet.

“No.” Jack got to his feet. The slant to his body more than protective as he blocked the angel's view of you. “We burned your body...and what's burned stays dead.” It was a rule that had been drilled into his head repeatedly. “How...”

“Well, that's the question we've been asking,” Dean spoke up, loudly enough that you jarred upwards. Awake, though groggy. “Heya, sweetheart. Nice of you to join the party.” The rough hand caressed your cheek as you blinked into focus. He frowned a bit when he found the covering over your neck, but he didn't get a chance to ask.

“Jack...” Sam stepped forward, swallowing tightly. Instantly, you became more alert before locking eyes on the man with the blue eyes. He assessed you in the same manner, before turning to more important things. You didn't move your gaze. “Did you, uh...Did you bring Cas back?”

Your head whipped around to the boy. Understanding exactly what was happening, then. Jack had done the impossible.

“I don't know.” Came the weak answer. He looked almost pained as he revealed the truth that you'd already known. “I wanted him back.. I...begged for him to come back, but...”

“Well, here he is.” Dean stated as if it truly needed done.

“Because of me?” He sounded as if he didn't believe it. Bound to the floor in shock.

“We don't know...” Sam's voice was almost breathy as he spoke up. “We don't know, Jack.” He was still amazed beyond belief. “But, we...” He took a steadying inhale, hands pressed deep into the pockets of the tan hunter's coat, “we...we think. Maybe.”

“Intention is everything.” You felt the angel's eyes jump to you when the boy's did the same. Looking for the approval he craved. “I think you did it.” You were every bit the proud, glowing mother figure, then. Even with the shadowed eyes and torn up throat.

“Thank you, Jack.” All attention was turned back to where it belonged. Cas.

A tiny, twitch of the lip followed before Jack started moving forward, “I missed you so much.” He wrapped the angel in a hug that was returned as easily. Cas closed his eyes to savor the moment before the embrace ended. Their hands didn't quite pull away immediately, though. Too long and not long enough all at once. It was Jack who released the hold in the end. Uncertainty making itself known.

“Sam and Dean tell me you're doing well.” Castiel left his hand in place on Jack's shoulder.

“I am.” He nodded easily, eyes more than a little watery as he choked the words out past the emotions that were running rampant inside of him. “I...” A pleased little smile lined his lips as he pulled back, “Watch this.” He stepped away, then. Drawing all eyes back to the desk. Once there, his hand rested over the pencil. It levitated with ease, drawing different reactions from each man. You, however, were simply proud.

“Wow,” Sam muttered under his breath.

“I can move the pencil.” Jack beamed brightly. “And,” He sat down in his chair. “I found a case.” Everyone moved in closer, then. “Hunters case.”

“What kind of a-”

“Zombies!” Dean was cut off by the excited answer. Jack had fallen in love with the undead, so you weren't shocked by the interest this time around. Everyone stepped forward, looking to get in on what he was talking about. A whisper towards Cas and Sam followed, “I know what zombies are now.” Sam's eyes met yours and you gave a sheepish shrug. Someone had to teach the kid about the horror life, after all. It only seemed fitting that it be a witch. “You see?”

“Wait.” Dean spoke up again, leaving your body tense as a simple click pulled up the page he was looking for, “Where'd you learn to do that?”

“By watching you,” Jack answered easily, not bothering to look up. “And Sam...and Y/N.” Dean's hand squeezed your shoulder a bit, earning a warning glare from you. Telling him plainly that mate or not, he'd be beaten if he dared to cause Jack to question his newfound strengths. “Three days ago, a vintage pocket watch with a personal inscription was sold at a pawn shop. But, when they went to authenticate it, they found out that it had been buried with its owner.” He looked up to Sam. Hoping to see the glint of approval in the hazel eyes. “Twenty years ago.” Moving back to the screen, he continued. “And when they checked out the grave, it was empty.” That time Dean got the smile. “Which means,” A key was tapped. “The dead are rising in Dodge City, Kansas.” Goosebumps lifted on your skin.

When you looked up at your mate, however, all trepidation was gone. He fought back his grin for a minute. He really did. However, he failed.

“Right,” Sam began. “Or maybe it's a- a grave robbery.” The more logical answer was thrown out there. “But...”

“Oh,” Jack seemed almost disappointed at that. His mind had ignored that possibility.

“Yeah,” Dean's voice came out strong. “But, we should probably check it out.” You were gaining whiplash from jerking your head back and forth

“Wait...really?” It was the angel who spoke up that time. Jack didn't even look confused. Simply stunned that Dean had agreed with him. Your face wasn't much better.

“Yeah, we've done more on less.” Sam looked as if he'd fall over. “Besides, Dodge City's kind of, uh...kind of awesome.” It was your turn to make use of the Winchester bitch face. Castiel turned to Sam as if hoping he'd get an explanation there. He got nothing. “Alright, well...” You could feel Dean's excitement. So different from everything you'd felt from him before. He was on the move, then. “Two salty hunters, one half angel kid, a witch that isn't a witch,” Your eyes narrowed at that one. “And, a dude that just came back from the dead. Again.” Jack glee was brimming over. A nod of pleasure left Dean as he made it to the head of the group. Taking in his soldiers. His tongue came out to wet his lips as it was decided. “Team Free Will 2.0.” He grinned with a smile that near bowed you over. So carefree. Happy. “Here we go.” Your stomach knotted. Even with the good, something bad was coming.

“Dean!” You clambered to your feet. It was too late. He was gone. Whistling on his way to his room. You didn't have the energy to keep up with him. “Damn it.”

“You okay?” Sam turned to you. Motioning towards your neck. Asking what his brother had missed. Or perhaps even ignored.

“I was hoping that you could answer that,” With a small grunt, you exposed the oozing, raw meat that was hanging on top of the remains of the mark. Just enough still there to hold the connection in place. “What happened while you were gone?”

Your body was screaming at you to follow Dean. To reaffirm the bond. But, you couldn't bring yourself to sour his mood. Not just yet. That damned empathy holding you back.

“You're not going to like it,” The hunter sighed out. Pain etching his features. From both the memory and the wound.

“I can...heal that. If you'd like.” Your head jerked towards the angel. He was assessing you. Attempting to determine how much of a threat that you were. Or could grow to be.

“I...I don't think-”

“That'd be great!” Jack spoke up. Looking to the father figure he'd wanted back so very badly. Eyes gleaming in anticipation. “He can show me, Y/N.”

“How am I supposed to argue against that?” You sighed out. Hating the old student-teacher ploy. You'd rather stew in your own misery than have the guarded being touch you. But, it meant too much to Jack. “Thank you.” You sent an appreciative smile towards the angel. He simply stared at you as if you were something to be dissected. It was then you realized you couldn't get a read on him in the slightest. You didn't like it. Not one bit. You liked what Sam had to say even less.

“You're going to do something you shouldn't,” Jack stated as your body hit the doorway.

You weren't the only one who had a sense of what could happen in the world. The nephilim was quickly picking up and honing in on the skill. He'd known the second he'd watched your shadowy figure make its escape.

“I don't have a choice, Jack.” You didn't turn around, your basket dangling off of your arms. Afraid that your resolve would wither if you did. Something that you couldn't afford. Sam's story had tore you apart. Nearly as bad as the wound itself. Dean was off on his own, glowing in the turn around his life had become. Unaware of the damage outside of the bubble he'd created. “He didn't leave me with one, this entire time.”

“Because it's how it's supposed to be,” You clenched your eyes at that. Your body agreed. Even your mind understood it to an extent. Though, you certainly didn't want to believe it. “You two are-”

“Something bad is coming, Jack.” He didn't like that answer. Wasn't used to you cutting him down so easily. His ever present rippling emotions swarmed you. Worry. Guilt. “It's coming, and...and it's going to hit me like a train. I can feel it.”

Your mind wandered back to the scrying you'd done once everything had settled back down. You'd darkened the room you had taken up as your own. The crystal ball had rested against black cloth, on the simple stand you'd brought with you. Two candles illuminated the room. You gazed into the orb, waiting for the signs to appear. For your future to be told.

The crystal didn't give full visions. Not like people tended to expect. Instead, it gave its message in a colored cloud that nestled and writhed in the center. A mix of black, red, and grey had appeared. Bad items coming, danger, and ill fortune. You didn't get much darker than that.

You didn't know the specifics; didn't need to. The warning had been clear. You'd already almost died twice because of the mating. A third time was too much to risk.

“You're sure?” Concern coated his voice, tangled with uncertainty. He trusted your instincts. But his own were telling him that if you walked out that door, a mistake would be made.

“I've never been more sure of anything in my life,” You turned to Jack so that he could see your face. To try and encourage him to understand. The desperation in your eyes seared through him. He'd let you go. He didn't have a choice. “I've got to do this.”

“He's not going to be happy.” You knew that. For all his talk, Dean hadn't been prepared to act. Not even when your nails had ripped chunks of flesh from your body at his hands. You were certain there was no way he hadn't guessed. He'd chosen to ignore it. He was still too reckless. Too filled with that dangerous energy to protect himself. To protect you. No, as long as you were mated, you weren't safe. “Just...stay safe.”

“I'm trying,” You reached up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Every worry the boy possessed seemed to be radiating from his tense body. “I won't leave you. I promise.” Your thumb brushed against his shoulder in comfort.

“It's like you can read my mind, sometimes.” Jack gave you a soft little smile. Out of everyone, you seemed to understand him the most. He didn't know what he'd do if you ever left his side. “I don't know how I feel about that, honestly.”

“No one ever does,” With your own wicked little grin, you pointed out the obvious. “Joys of being a witch.” It faded away as the wind whipped the surface of the bunker. “Go relax, Jack. It's been a wild day...We're leaving early in the morning.” The order was filled with stress. The weather had your body practically vibrating. His concern only amplified it.

“I will when you're back,” His eyes told you that he'd be waiting. That he'd cover for you if you needed. With that, you yanked up the hood of your jacket and walked out, into the storm.

The energy was overwhelming. Exactly the thing you needed to harness. The bunker held too many wards for you to remain inside. Your mission was too important to risk it blocking your magic.

The familiar path was harsher in the wicked night. Each flash of a leaf drew your attention. As if it were trying to chase you back. You found your space a ways from the bunker, resting under a nest of trees to give you some relief from the rain. You'd built a small shelter over time. Branches weaved together out of love. Your own little private space.

There was no need for an alter. Intention was everything. And there was more than enough of that stewing inside of you.

You could have waited for the right moon phase. Could have followed through on a specific day. However, the unknown threat that rested over you commanded that you acted immediately. Simply trust in yourself. In your own abilities being enough. The hood left your head, and you set out to get to work.

The black candles were pulled out first. You had personally melted the wax down to create them for the very purpose you'd use them. A process that made it more personal. Cayenne aided in your venture. Separation was a specialty it carried. A pinch rested inside the wax. Waiting to break apart the binds holding you down.

Then, came the sharp piece of black obsidian. Smoothly shaped into an arrowhead. Perfect for amping up the power you carried within you. It was almost too strong. You didn't handle it often, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

On the first, your name was carved into the soft wax. As clear as you could get it on the dark night. On the second, Dean's name was etched. The black ribbon wrapped around both wide, but short candles. Just large enough to fit your names. Small enough to speed up the burning process. Ensuring it would be over with quickly. The ribbon rested across the belly of both; ensuring that it wouldn't be burned by the wick. A small space separated the two. Close, but with just enough room between them to work.

The match had no trouble catching on the small strands of string. “These two flames burn brightly together,” Your voice was strong as you called out into the storm. Despite the shake of your hand. “But, one consumes the other with this link between them.” You would be consumed. There were no doubts left. Even before you'd looked into the crystal ball, you'd known. “No more shall I suffer from the sadness brought by Dean.” Your eyes focused on the flames that burned was strong and billowed straight into the air. A sign it was working. “No more shall I be hurt by Dean.” Your hand rubbed against the mark at those words. The wounds may have been healed, but the emotional damage was still present. Snaking over the spell. “I sever my ties from thee.” The obsidian was lifted. Slicing through the ribbon with ease. Destroying the bond symbolically. For a moment, the flame seemed to lift higher.

Your body felt drained as you stared at the ongoing spell. The water in your eyes couldn't be denied. The soul was mourning the loss of what could have been.

Ordinarily, you'd have hated the idea of crying. Instead, you simply let them fall. Telling yourself that the salt water would aid in your protection...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath @neii3n @surmya1907

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666 @coldmuffinbanditshoe

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dangan-matchmaker · 6 years

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How bout the V3 boys with a fem!s/o who's obsessed with bands?? (For example: Gorillaz, Coldplay, Guns and Roses, etc.) Thanks!

Ok first let me say I’m actually gonna bitchslap Murdoc he scared me so much that smelly man can eat a pickle

Shuichi

He first learned of your love for bands when you started screeching about… Gorillas?? Who’s Murdoc?

Oh it’s that band Gorillaz

Why are you so upset?

WAIT SOmEONE DIED

Oh no he isn’t real

He still consoles you about his death

Then days later

He hears you RAGE

“MURDOC YOU ASSHOLE gOD DAMMIT”

Oh no

Wha happened this time

HE ISnT DEAD??

Poor shuichi has no idea what’s going on

He once again comforts you, despite being clueless

Rantaro

He asked you what was wrong when you kept giving the salsa a weird look

Eventually you told him you couldn’t eat salsa anymore after listening to a song by your favorite band, Hollywood Undead (💞💞)

What

Why

you show him the song

(El Urgencia, its kinda nsfw)

“oh”

He starts looking at the salsa weird

“why would he do that”

“I don’t know”

Charlie Scene is a wonderful man haha

You and Rantaro listen to more song, causing Rantaro to love this band as well!

Kokichi Ouma

He walked in on you blasting Around the world (Daft Punk)

What’s the appeal? It only says around the world over and over

SMACK HIM

You force him to listen to daft punk with you for an hour

He starts to love it

He regrets judging it

You start rambling on how much you love their songs to death

And how much you love the two members, Guy-Man and Thomas

You both agree to one day cosplay them

Korekiyo Shinguji (this one isn’t a band but hey)

Korekiyo heard strange music coming from your room, and some soft singing

You had told him you went to your room to draw

“Hands up, feel okay, which heart can I break today?”

He was amazed by your singing, how focused you look while drawing, as if nothing else was there or had ever existed. You were so entranced with your drawing, and the music playing

God, Humanity is beautiful

He quietly knocked, and said softly

“s/o?”

You quickly turned, your face bright red

“K-Korekiyo? How long have you been there?”

He comes over and kisses your forehead, looking at your sketchbook

The two pages were filled to the brim with drawings of this.. man?

“These drawings are lovely, darling? But who is this man?”

You look at I’m happily

“This is Jack Stauber! He makes a lot of odd music, it’s all kinda short but really good!”

He nods intently, listening carefully as you talk about this odd man for a solid three hours

Kiibo

Kiibo heard you listening to Without Me by Eminem

He was quite surprised

All he heard was “FUCK YOU, DEBBIE”

“o-Ohmy goodness!”

You turn to see a confused Kiibo

“Oh, it’s just Eminem! He’s my favorite!”

Kiibo is still confused

You play a few more of his songs, and Kiibo seems to really like it!

You two spend the day listening to his music

Ryoma

Ryoma heard you listening to Japanese songs

He asked you what it was, and you replied simply “Vocaloid!”

He had heard of vocaloid, but never heard any songs

They seem alright!

You smile, asking if he’d like to hear more

He says sure, why not!

Gonta

He heard weird noises coming from your room

He goes to investigate

Oh?

What’s Skrillex??

He sounds nice!

Well, his music does!

He smiled, wanting You to tell him more

And you did!

Sorry some of these are short, I’m typing on a weird keyboard ALSO ace is my home screen and lock screen

-Mod Komaeda

#shuichi saihara #rantaro amami #kaito momota #ryoma hoshi #gonta gokuhara #kokichi ouma #Kiibo #korekiyo shinguji

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krissy148 · 5 years

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@marvelous-maddi tagged me! So i decided to post it!

I got Red Dead 2 as my lock screen and Danny from Hollywood Undead as my home screen 💖

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anaridgrassland · 6 years

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I was tagged by @wilwarindi Rules: post your lock screen and background, most recent song listened to, and a selfie Lockscreen is my old dog Bear (rip baby boy), background is shirtless Mads Mikkelsen shaving and smoking. Don't judge me. And song is Nobody's Watching by Hollywood Undead. I tag @veritasrose and anyone else that would like to do this

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hollywoodundead-4life · 7 years

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Some shitty Hollywood Undead (plus Deuce and Jimmy Yuma) summer themed lock screens. Feel free to use

#Hollywood Undead #Jdog #Johnny 3 Tears #Charlie Scene #Da Kurlzz #Funnyman #Danny #Deuce

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gloriousgwendolinechristie · 7 years

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Press: What's Next for Westeros, Gwendoline Christie and Her Empowering Brienne of Tarth

NEWSWEEK – “I’m Gwen,” she says, as if she could be anyone else. Gwendoline Christie is tall. This won’t come as a surprise to fans of Game of Thrones, the show that features the 38-year-old actor as the dutiful and fearless warrior Brienne of Tarth. And yet, when meeting Christie on a Friday morning in the rooftop bar of a London music venue, the full 6 foot 3 inches of her can still take you aback, even without her character’s coat of armor.

For the uninitiated, Game of Thrones is based on George R.R. Martin’s wildly popular fantasy series A Song of Ice and Fire, of which there are five novels, with two more planned. The books are set in a vaguely medieval world on fictional continents where the leaders of seven kingdoms battle the undead, dragons and one another for the exceedingly uncomfortable-looking Iron Throne. Since the show’s premiere in 2011, it has won more Emmy Awards than any other scripted series in history (38 to date), kept Reddit and social media ticking with memes and theories, and inspired all manner of online debate—over excessive violence (heads chopped off, girls burned alive, men castrated) and gratuitous sex (the rape of one character in particular).

But the 23 million viewers (on average) who watch each episode come for the unusually large number of indelible characters—like Lena Headey’s power-mad Queen Cersei; the brooding, putative hero, Jon Snow (Kit Harington); and Brienne.

Christie’s physical stature made her a quick sell for GoT producers. Fans of the books had suggested the relatively unknown actress for the part before she auditioned. At that point, her screen credits were minimal, her work mostly onstage. (There was some notoriety beyond acting, thanks to photographer Polly Borland’s “Bunny” series; shot between 2002 and 2008, it features a nude Christie spoofing the Playboy Bunny in odd, funny and seductive ways.) But from the moment Brienne appeared in Episode 3 of Season 2, beating a seasoned male warrior in a tournament and becoming the sworn sword of Renly Baratheon, Christie and her character shot to the top of the GoT popularity index.

Brienne was an easy sell for Christie as well; the actor was immediately attracted to her character’s power and androgyny. “Even when I was very young, I didn’t understand why the women had to have the boring parts,” says Christie, who grew up in a small coastal village near Hampshire, in England. “I didn’t understand why the women had to be submissive. They predominantly seemed to be of one type—they were often beautiful, but I didn’t understand the relationship between virgin or whore, mother or sex object.”

In Martin’s books, Brienne is described as being “ugly” and unfeminine: “[Her] features were broad and coarse, her teeth prominent and crooked, her mouth too wide, her lips so plump they seemed swollen…. Her nose had been broken more than once,” Martin writes in A Clash of Kings . The character is bullied mercilessly, and playing her brought back unpleasant memories for Christie—of being ostracized for her own appearance.

“I remember when I had my hair cut off, the armor, the mud…I completely changed the way that I looked,” says Christie, who added 28 pounds of muscle to play Brienne, in addition to learning to fight with swords and ride horses. “I knew I had to overcome the things that I was uncomfortable with, like my androgyny, my height, my physical strength, feeling like an outsider, being told I was an outsider. It’s definitely given me more confidence.”

As often happens in Hollywood, Christie has been typecast. She isn’t complaining; playing the fearsome warrior has its perks: In 2015, she landed the role of Commander Lyme in The Hunger Games: Mockingjay—Part 2 and the villain Captain Phasma in Star Wars: The Force Awakens (she’ll reprise that role in The Last Jedi, out December 15). But it was a bit of real-life intrepidness that got her a role closer to earth on the second season of director Jane Campion’s acclaimed series Top of the Lake, starring The Handmaid’s Tale’s Elisabeth Moss.

Campion’s films, like 1993’s The Piano, heavily influenced Christie, and after seeing the first season in 2013, she wrote to Campion. “I didn’t have the nerve to send the letter for 18 months,” she says. Eventually, she gave it to a mutual friend. “I got a lovely note back,” Christie says. Four months after that, Campion wrote her again: “‘I’ve been dreaming about you. I’ve written you a part.’”

Christie plays the vulnerable and embattled Miranda, who partners with Moss’s police detective. “I’m going to admit that it’s hard to play a character who’s failing all the time, who isn’t good at anything and who can’t seem to overcome that,” Christie says. “It doesn’t give you the same wonderful rush of supporting the hero, but it was a very interesting investigation for me, and a more realistic one, of how many of us feel.”

The notoriously secretive Star Wars and Game of Thrones productions prevent Christie from saying much of anything about those projects. The final 13 episodes of GoT will be divided into two mini-seasons, the first seven beginning July 16, the final six in 2018. “I have to speak generally,” she says, and we both glance around, as if HBO spies might be lurking in the shadows. “ Game of Thrones is famous for different characters coming together with unlikely consequences. And what’s recurrent in Brienne’s life is forming relationships with people that start with an opposing force, then a begrudging mutual respect and, out of that, a deep respect and pure love. That happens again this season. Brienne will realize a deep alliance.”

The heated online speculation is that the alliance will be with the mighty red-headed Wildling Tormund Giantsbane (Kristofer Hivju). When I mention that, Christie releases a loud cackle. Viewers will remember an appreciative glance from Tormund toward Brienne last season. It was a throwaway moment in the script (“I think it read, ‘Tormund hasn’t seen a woman like her before,’” Christie says), but Hivju made the most of it. “I don’t often laugh during filming,” she says of the dinner table scene, in which Tormund sensuously attacks a chicken leg, his eyes locked on Brienne across the table. “That was really difficult. Because he is so intensely hilarious.”

But she answers my question of their future with a question of her own. “Do you think she actually likes him?” she asks. “No,” I say. “Well, there you go!”

The more sensitive GoT fan might be holding out for a reunion between one of the show’s odder duos, the entertainingly humorless Brienne and her erstwhile traveling companion, the jocular, one-armed Kingslayer Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau). She, of course, is unfailingly honorable, while he—among other things—is the father of three children with his sister, Cersei. (It’s complicated.) The closest Jaime has come to pure heroism was provoked by Brienne, in the seventh episode of Season 3, when he jumped into a bear pit to save her from certain death—one of the most rousing moments in a series filled with aggressively rousing scenes. Their resulting fealty—even tenderness—was undeniable, and so is the on-screen chemistry between Coster-Waldau and Christie.

Any hope for them? Christie can’t say, but she also doesn’t laugh it off. “There’s a whole world there,” she says. “But I don’t think either of them has any idea of what’s going on or how to deal with it.”

Christie has her own hopes for Brienne. If she had her way, the battle-weary white knight would ride alone into the Westeros sunset, squire Podrick following closely behind. Any particular destination or future? I ask. She ponders. Perhaps her ancestral home, Christie says finally, and “a Brienne of Tarth’s Finishing School for Unconventional Young Ladies.”

Games of Thrones airs Sundays at 9 p.m. on HBO, beginning July 16. Top of the Lake: China Girl premieres on the SundanceTV network in September.

Press: What’s Next for Westeros, Gwendoline Christie and Her Empowering Brienne of Tarth was originally published on Glorious Gwendoline

#gwendoline christie #game of thrones #got cast #Brienne of Tarth #star wars #Captain Phasma #The Force Awakens #Mockingjay 2 #Commander Lyme #THG #The Hunger Game

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lyrc-type · 7 years

Note

Could you please make some Hollywood Undead lock screens

I managed to make one. Hope you like it!

#anon #anonymous #request #answered

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trendingnewsb · 7 years

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The 6 Most WTF Hollywood Depictions Of Donald Trump

Before he became the inciting incident in the post-apocalyptic thriller that is our age, Donald Trump spent most of his life cultivating the image of a disgustingly wealthy businessman and cameo-worthy celebrity. He was the rich bully of his time, inspiring many movies and TV shows to feature barely fictionalized versions of him as villainous characters meant to symbolize the greed and cynicism of 1980s capitalism. Interestingly, none of the following examples ever went so far as to imagine a future in which this character would become president.

A Trumpian New York City Developer Starts A Hate Campaign Against The Ninja Turtles

It was only a matter of time before the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles squared off against the most quintessential of all New York City foes: rising property values.

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In the fourth season of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles show, the Turtles are beleaguered by real estate magnate and rotund blowhard Fenton Q. Hackenbrush, who runs the not so subtly named Donald J. Lofty Enterprises. Hackenbrush wants to demolish the sewers completely and turn them into Donald J. Lofty luxury condos. For that, he needs the Turtles to disappear. (If Hackenbrush is anything like the real Trump, he probably thinks the Turtles are the wrong color to live in one of his buildings.)

In an interview with April O’Neil, Hackenbrush sells his greedy plans to the public on the basis that his sewer reconstruction will “flush out the worst menace in the city: the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.” Of course, the people of New York don’t have any problems with the Turtles, so Hackenbrush forces a group of employees to dress up in those bad Turtle Halloween costumes we all used to wear and go commit crimes.

Then an evil turtle named Slash arrives in the city, and Hackenbrush immediately mocks him as “some kind of foreigner,” but then bribes him into sowing mayhem, fanning the flames of turtle racism.

Hackenbrush is eventually exposed by some ace reporting by O’Neil (New York Times, pay attention). As punishment, he is loudly fired by the actual owner of the company, Mr. Lofty — who looks surprisingly a lot like Fred Trump, Donald’s father. We’re not saying TMNT intentionally created a world in which Fred Trump would repeatedly yell “You’re fired” at his heir, but that’s immediately the best Trump origin story we’ve ever heard.

The Devil’s Advocate Features A Rich Murderer Who Owns Trump Tower

In The Devil’s Advocate, Al Pacino is the titular Devil (not a spoiler; you don’t cast Pacino in a movie about Satan and make him the lovable dad), who has set up a law firm in New York in order to subvert justice and release evil into society. And who is Satan’s favorite client? The guy who lives atop Trump Tower.

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Though it is slightly inaccurate, since he never claims to have the best murders ever, just fantastic.

Alexander Cullen, played by a suitably balding Craig T. Nelson, is a Trump-esque real estate mogul accused of murdering his wife, stepson, and maid — dire straits for a guy based on someone who once bragged he could shoot a person in the middle of the street and get away with it. His arrest immediately prompts Pacino’s law firm of Fire, Brimstone & Ham to send their new ace attorney, Kevin Lomax (Keanu Reeves wearing his dad’s suit), to defend Cullen. Why? Because, oddly, he’s Lucifer’s best client, having racked up “16,242” billable hours in one year. That’s a lot of shady business.

Warner Bros. Pictures 1.85 years of shady business, to be exact.

But being a hated New York business tycoon and employing a massive team of evil lawyers doesn’t necessarily mean Cullen is a Trump clone, right? Luckily, for the sake of subtlety, when we finally arrive at Cullen’s home, we see that it’s literally Trump’s apartment in Trump Tower. The filmmakers managed to rent it out, preserving its natural appearance as Liberace’s mind palace.

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Warner Bros. Pictures “Try not to touch anything — you’ll get metal poisoning.”

In the end, Cullen is found not guilty, despite Lomax knowing that he murdered those people, thereby finally giving in to his true nature as the son of Satan. That’s right, the Devil’s son loses his innocence by defending Trump. Burn.

A Sci-Fi TV Show Villain Morphs Into Donald Trump … Played By Donald Trump

Night Man was a late ’90s low-budget TV show based on the Malibu Comics series about a San Franciscan saxophone player who can sense evil and wears a laser eye. Despite that, it somehow managed to run for two seasons, possibly because of its reliance on magnificently bizarre cameos — none of which were more utterly mystifying than Donald J. Trump in technically the only real acting credit to his name.

In this episode, Night Man is chasing a face-changing villain called Face to Face, who decides to engage in some quick identity theft to make a large withdrawal from the bank. Who better to transform into than the self-proclaimed richest man in the universe, Donald Trump? (No really, please suggest someone better.) In one of the most perfect sequences in the history of the medium, Face to Face slowly morphs into The Donald, dazzling audiences with peak mid ’90s CGI while simultaneously reinforcing the idea that Trumps looks like a melting Claire Danes.

Donald Trump — remember, this is the real Donald Trump playing a man who has shapeshifted into Donald Trump — walks into a delightfully green-screened bank, and then sits down with the bank manager to illegally withdraw $10,000. Sadly, the nuanced layers of a real man pretending to be a fake man pretending to be him do not translate to Trump’s performance:

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Could they not find a real bank that would allow Trump to walk in?

Weirdly, in his utter boredom and bad acting, something spectacular happens: Trump seems … nice. He’s subdued, polite, even charming. It seems that all you need to do to make Trump likable is carefully control what he says and make sure he’s not physically in the same room with any human beings.

A Disney Show Paired Donald Trump With A Dead Pirate

Before Disney found a way to become rich off Johnny Depp wearing a lot of eyeliner, it first got its pirate feet wet with The 100 Lives Of Black Jack Savage, a lighthearted romp wherein the undead spirit of a mass murderer teams up with a fictional Donald Trump analogue to save both of their souls from burning forever in hell.

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Luckily, Disney would never reuse “Jack Savage,” or his ship the Black Bird, or anything like it ever again.

When Daniel Tarberry, a rich real estate mogul from New York, has to flee the country because of legal troubles, he buys a luxurious Caribbean mansion to lie low in, but doing so summons the ghost of Black Jack Savage, who was hanged on the island for his crimes. The two are now forced to save the lives of 100 people in order to save themselves from eternal damnation.

Tarberry is a greedy shark who insists on hanging a portrait of himself in every hotel room he owns and constantly tries to weasel out of paying his contractors a dime. He’s not very respectful to women, referring to every lady who talks back to him as “the poster girl for PMS.” He’s also a straight up racist, first assuming Black Jack is his cabin boy, then loudly exclaiming that he wants to change all the locks because he “found a black man in my kitchen.”

The writers had intended to start Tarberry off as a real piece of Trump, only to eventually learn from his mistakes and become a better man. He even occasionally refrains from treating Black Jack like some weird Jim Crow genie.

But the show never got to the redemption part, as the network pulled it after only seven poorly rated episodes. Believing that people are interested in seeing a Trump redemption story might have been the most misjudged part of The 100 Lives Of Black Jack Savage — a Disney show that opens with a black man being lynched.

Gremlins 2 Had Trump Fight Gremlins

Nobody really expected Gremlins to get a sequel, especially not its creators. And when it did, no one could have predicted that the real villain wouldn’t be gremlins, but the world’s most notorious New York City mogul.

Director Joe Dante wanted to have the Gremlins run amok in a fancy New York skyscraper. But the movie still needed a villain, a rich guy so obnoxious that audiences wouldn’t feel bad about watching midnight demons tear him several new assholes. And then it hit Dante: “At that time in New York City, there was one major character who was Mr. Billion.”

At the time, Trump was known for being “overbearing and obviously kind of goofy,” said the film’s writer, Charles S. Haas. “He was an emblem of what was going on in the ’80s and ’90s with greed and money and crassness, and [the idea of] the whole world being for sale.” And so they created powerful millionaire Daniel Clamp, a Trumpian mogul (with a dash of Ted Turner) who also happens to be running violent animal experiments in his tower Clamp Center.

Actor John Glover modeled his performance of Clamp on the director, whom he saw as “incredibly gentle, supporting and encouraging,” rather than on Trump, which is why Clamp can say weirdly racist nonsense like “Let’s lose the elm trees. People see elm, they think Dutch. [pause] Disease” and still sound like a swell boss. It’s also why we unreservedly root for Clamp when he shoves a Gremlin into a paper shredder.

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And also because he seems to be the only one who realizes gremlins aren’t that difficult to kill.

Consequently, Gremlins 2: The New Batch offers a peek at an alternate universe in which Nice Trump helps us fight small-minded rage goblins, as opposed to the universe we live in, where those goblins got him elected president.

Sesame Street Thinks Donald Trump Is Garbage

Over its nearly 50-year history, Sesame Street has striven to be not just entertainment, but also a tool to teach children. And many times over, it has tried to teach them that Donald Trump is the king of the trash people.

The first time we encounter Sesame‘s Trump is in ’88, as a grouch named Ronald Grump. Grump is trying to con fellow grouch Oscar into letting him build a three-trash-can-high Grump Tower on his spot in return for a “duplex can-dominium.” Oscar simply adores Grump at first, because he exemplifies grouch values, as “his name is on every piece of trash in town.” Grump is also grouch-famous for building “a swamp in a day,” a line so apt that the Sesame Street writers should get a retroactive Emmy for it.

“What about dumpsters?”

However, Grump immediately tries to evict Oscar for keeping pets in his fantastic, just the best tower. This forces all the Sesame Street residents to band together to buy Grump off with their garbage, making the first lesson most American kids learned about Donald Trump was that they need to pay him to go away before he ruins everything.

Donald Grump returns during the show’s 2005 parody of The Apprentice, in which lesser grouches are fighting for the privilege to assist Grump in peddling his trash all across town. After a series of pointless tasks, Elmo, whose hard work and positive attitude wins the day, immediately gets fired by Grump, who exclaims, “I can’t have a good helper! I got my reputation to think of.”

However, the Trump animosity really boiled over during the Street‘s 25th anniversary show in 1993. The entire special episode revolves around the residents of Sesame Street fighting Grump (this time expertly portrayed by human forehead vein Joe Pesci), who’s trying to convert the entire block into a garish Grump Tower. At first he sweetly attempts to convince them that having their street become an overpriced boutique is a good thing. But when the residents don’t agree, Grump starts threatening Muppets like they’re in Goodfellas.

Fortunately, Grump’s plans fall apart because Oscar and his trash heap (which are on city property) keep Grump from selling a single condo. Furious, he rips up his plans and screams that Sesame Street didn’t deserve a Grump Tower anyway. So that’s charm, bully, and now abandonment. If the show had ended with Grump taking Oscar to court for loss of potential revenue, Sesame Street would have achieved the quadfecta of the Trump negotiation style long before Nancy Pelosi coined it.

Since he became president, Trump has not been shy about his desire to gut PBS, the public station that was home to Sesame Street until 2016. We can’t help but think that Ronald Grump has something to do with that.

Cedric will never stop politicizing Muppets. The best way to boycott his leftist agenda is by following him on Twitter but then never interacting with him in any shape or form. That’ll show him.

Why should you have to deal with the Trump presidency alone? Make your cats miserable too with this Donald Trump cat costume.

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