#the author really put a lot of thought into it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

weirdly-specific-but-ok · 1 year ago

Text

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

#good omens #neil gaiman #sir terry pratchett #good omens show #good omens fandom #good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi

15K notes · View notes

darabeatha · 1 year ago

Text

#;ooc #ooc #so i finished hearing this summary of paradise lost and #im im??? im????#my brain rn: umm ok anyways-#THAT WAS A L O T- like legit a lot; in all senses possible #listen i dont know the context nor the story of the author himself or a bunch of religious beliefs but i can say that was a creative poem #allow me to be silly but as i was listening the story i was like; wow this would a banger anime OIUTORHGROHG #IM SORRY IM #i was already thinking; wow the angels could make a banger concept for a storyline in fate #i dont think i would read it raw tho- bc old english is so difficult to read #BUT GODDDD IT WAS SO TRAGICAL- TRAGEDY-#im still speechless about it but if i could put a word to summarize my experience with it; it would be tragedy #its like hope but tragedy but its so sad but there is a lil light but also OUGH #the angel gabriel was funny; when he lit showed l.ucifer just how minuscule his power was against him; like lit on a scale (literally)#im seeing it in the lenses of an epic so apologies if i came up crude with my wording i have no intentions to offend anyone okok #also i've heard of d.emonology but??? yesterday was the first time ever that i heard angelology exists and its so interesting??#like; this is coming from the perspective of someone who's only here for the stories; its quite fascinating #like we all know the meme of 'oh biblically accurate angel that is all eyes and wings yeah!'BUT LIKE THERE'S S O MUCH MORE #i dunno i never really gave it much thought about it before so to me its a lot!

0 notes

erinwantstowrite · 7 months ago

Text

Halloween AU!!!

hey so. i put SOOOOO much effort into this au and for what? at least it ended up looking cool? anyways Halloween is my favorite holiday and i just HAD to make something for them!

i had a LOT of ideas for what everyone would be, but i really wanted to stick to a certain theme cause it's based around Halloween. i knew i had to have a vampire, werewolf, and a witch. cause like... obviously. iconic Halloween stuff!! but i took some liberties with everyone else and i think they turned out pretty cool!!

Jason was originally a fox shifter (which i still love and might draw art for some day) but i went with a bear in the end. is that because i thought about tiny bear cub Jaybin and wanted to cry? yeah. yeah it is. i KNEW Steph was going to be my werewolf though i started doubting myself when i went to draw her. turned out to be my favorite drawing on here which makes sense cause she is my light my love my daughter my will to live and all that jazz

Tim was actually gonna be a harpy but thank god i didn't go for that in the end. Duke was the one that was a bitch and a half trying to figure out BUT!! comments on the post asking what y'all thought led me towards Psychic so THANK YOUUUU everybody that commented!! (specifically those who thought of ghost!! Duke and Tim ended up being a perfect duo in this au)

Babs was pretty easy to figure out what I wanted for her. I read somewhere that they are seen as protectors of forests/ are considered spiritual authority figures and also.... she looks cool as fuck. Did not expect how easy it was to find a ref for a deer in a wheelchair though? I can never find the right hand or face angle reference but that was super easy???

For Bruce there was literally no question he HAD to be human. it's literally so funny that everyone who knows Batman thinks he's a spooky vampire but he's human. his first son, however?????? THAT'S the vampire. I knew Dick had to be a vampire too. A little nod towards that one comic run but in my au nothing bad happens ever 🥰 Damian also being a bat shifter is very on purpose because how funny is it that he's a bat man. Literally not a single person in the League thinks that Bruce is telling the truth about being human. Bruce you are NOT beating the secretly a vampire allegations.

adding in Jay's hilarious joke it's so fucking funny:

Alfred is actually a demon. I CAN NOT remember who made this post so if someone can help me find it, it would be appreciated!! because this was inspired by them!!! but somewhere i saw someone talk about Alfred being a demon that Thomas and Martha made a deal with (i think it was for an au idea?) and I just HAD to put it here. Alfred looks so human and everyone expects it, but he's definitely not. I put the ??? because it's so fucking funny. see if you can spot the 1 hint i put on his drawing that something is amiss!!

Peter is from an alternate dimension still, but it is not a world of creatures like him, it's just the same as LoF canon except Peter grew some extra limbs and eyes. He finds that it's actually pretty easy to fit in with the Waynes. Hard to feel like a freak when a guy can turn into a fucking bear, or your dad is a vampire, and the teenagers in the family are trying to summon ghosts or make potions.

additional doodles for this au:

i am still debating whether i am going to draw something for this au or write a oneshot, but i DO want to do something with these for Halloween

4K notes · View notes

corameiwrites · 2 months ago

Text

𖦹 i want somebody to want 𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: When you turn 21, the name of your soulmate appears on your forearm. Not everyone is born with a soulmate, and Jason Todd never thought he would have one.

wc: 2k

authors note: I remember reading in a fic somewhere about the Wayne Scholarship, and I forgot who/where I read it exactly, so credit to them whoever they are. Also, some characters may seem a little ooc and tbh I don't really care. I had fun writing this which is all that matters, and I hope you have fun reading it!

pt. 2

The place Dick had dragged Jason to wasn’t all that bad, considering it was located in Blüdhaven. Unless it was near the University area, there was always something sinister and more corrupt happening under the alcohol, vomit, and blood-stained floors of Gotham bars. Normally no amount of bribery or guilting could make him voluntarily dress up and go out drinking with his older brother, but today was not normal.

It was his twenty-first birthday.

Meaning that by 11:59 tonight, if a name didn’t appear somewhere on one of his arms, he was destined to be alone. Not everyone is born with a soulmate, and realistically, after all the shit he’s been through, Jason Todd never thought he would have one. Despite that, there was some sort of dread slowly filling his body the more he thought about it. Maybe it was that small flame of the little boy he used to be—before Robin and the Bat and the Joker—igniting at the chance of finally having one. It was the same boy who would trace his parents’ names on their wrist, asking them to tell him once more how they met, what they felt seeing the names appear on their skin. Unfortunately, that little boy would be let down yet again by the end of the night.

His plans had originally been to stay in his main apartment (the one where he stored all his books and indulged in a comfy couch), buy a 6-pack of the cheapest beer and get drunk alone. That was ruined, however, when he received multiple annoying texts from Dick, begging to go out for drinks tonight, specifying multiple times that it would be on him. Jason told himself the only reason he agreed was for the free drinks and to keep himself from checking his forearm every five goddamn seconds (a night out with Richard Grayson was known to be entertaining and unpredictable).

If it was Dicks plan to get Jason blackout drunk, he was doing a pretty good job of it. After agreeing he would be the designated driver, Dick had laid back on the drinks and only taken 3 of the five rounds of shots they had already ordered. Jason was opening up bit by bit, reminiscing on their childhood together. By his fifth shot, smiling seemed to come easier to Jason.

Currently, they were both watching the flatscreen hung behind the bar showing a news channel covering Batman and Robin putting an end to another bank robbery.

Dick pointed at the screen. “Damian learned that move from me.”

“No, I taught him that.”

“I’m the one who taught you that move when you were younger, big dummy,” Dick teased.

“Oh, I forgot.” Jason's tone lost its joking edge, and Dick looked over at him. “You know,” he continued almost somberly. “Ever since coming back, I seem to forget a lot of things.”

His eyes were glued to the screen, watching as Batman jumped out a window in pursuit of the bad guy. Robin shouted after him.

“You’ve been through hell and back, Todd. Normal people wouldn’t have been able to handle it the way you did.”

“No, you see, that's the thing.” Jason's voice was frustrated, his previous smiles gone. His brows furrowed the longer he ranted. “I’m not normal. I cycle through apartments and bunkers like crazy to help me lay low. I sleep in until 3 pm and I put a helmet on to chase down crazy guys with guns for hours at night. The public knows me as some traumatized kid who somehow survived a terrorist attack.” He pauses to take a gulp of beer, slamming the glass onto the bar, lifting his arm to wipe his mouth. Dick watched his jacket slip down his arm.

“Jason–”

“I don’t have a home, I don’t have a stable routine, I don’t even have life insurance!” Dick had somehow managed to get the former deceased and outlaw brother of his drunk and ranting about life. And the worst part? Nobody was ever going to believe him.

“Jason,” Dick puts a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, gripping him like a vice. His eyes never left his arm. “Your soulmate.”

Both of them are silent for a moment. Jason sighs, shaking his head.

“Damn, you're good at this.Yeah, it's about the soulmate thing.”

“You fucking idiot,” Dick slaps him on the back of his head. “Look at your arm!”

Dick watched as Jason stared him in the eyes, his brain clearly trying to catch up with what his brother was insinuating. When he finally looked down, it was comedic the way his eyes bulged at the fresh ink on his left arm. Dick tried his best to keep his excitement at bay, biting back his proud smile. His grumpy, tough, and borderline psychotic little brother had a soulmate. After a couple more seconds of silence, Jason cursed under his breath.

“I’m too sober for this,” Jason mumbled, chugging down the rest of his beer.

Dick laughs, waving the bartender over and handing him a card to close their tab. Jason slams the empty cup down, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. “I have a soulmate.”

“Yeah man, congratulations!” Dick pats his brother on the back, but recoils at Jason turning abruptly and staring him dead in the eye.

“I have a soulmate.”

“I…yeah, you do bud.”

“...I have a soulmate.” He repeats, annunciating each word, as if he can’t believe it. “I need to find them,” Jason says, standing and walking towards the exit of the bar.

“Woah, Jason–” Dick hurriedly stands, apologetically yelling for the bartender and grabbing his card. Rushing outside, he sees Jason recklessly crossing the street to the parking lot. “Slow down!”

Jason stands awkwardly next to Richard Grayson's blue convertible, clambering over the door and into the passenger seat. Dick watches from across the street, shaking his head with a smile, making his way to the car. He couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed with Jasons drunken behavior.

Hopping in the driver's seat, Dick puts the keys into the ignition. “Alright loverboy, where are we going?”

“The mansion,” Jason struggles to get his seatbelt on (Dick intervenes). “The Batcave’s computer can find anyone.”

“Huh. That’s actually really smart considering you're drunk.”

“I’m not. Just shut up and drive.”

Dick laughs, hitting the gas pedal and doing as he was told.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ♡ ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Bruce was home early, having quickly left the bank robbers tied up as Gordons responsibility. Currently, he was sitting in the library going over a case file. Damian had already gone to bed when he had gotten an alert of a vehicle coming up the manor's driveway. He checked the security cameras in the garage and was shocked to see his eldest rushing to the passenger side of the car to stop his sluggish brother from falling out. At first, Bruce had thought that he was poisoned or impaired in some way. He called for Alfred, asking him to prepare the medical rooms to tend to Jason. A few short minutes later, he heard faint voices approaching.

“I used to live here before I died, I know where I’m going.”

“Clearly not, we passed the entrance already.”

“The old man has a sensor on that door. We need to take the entrance in one of the bookshelves, they don’t notify him when someone enters.” No one but Alfred was supposed to know that.

“I doubt it’ll matter, he’s out fighting crime with—oh shit!” Bruce watched through his freakish peripheral vision as two figures hurriedly backed away from the doorway of the library. “Code Bat! Code Bat!” Dicks voice had dropped to a whisper, though not so quiet that Bruce couldn’t hear.

“B’s here?” A head with a white streak of hair popped through the doorway before quickly vanishing. “Oh no.”

“It’s only 11:45, what is he doing lounging around?”

Bruce chuckled quietly, now coming to the realization that they weren’t drugged or in danger; they were just drunk. Jason especially, which made sense. Quietly, he sent Alfred a message telling him to disregard the request. He feigned ignorance to their presence, going as far as flipping pages of the case file in his lap while they bickered, attempting to formulate a plan. Listening in to their not very secretive conversation, Bruce deduced that they had come to find Jason's soulmate on the Bat computer. It was his 21st afterall, and why else would he come drunkenly to the home he tried so hard to stay away from? Bruce found himself smiling for the boy. He had been through so much, and he deserved to have some good in his life. He only hoped that whoever they were, they took care of him in places where Bruce failed.

Sighing exaggeratedly, he stood, stretched and slowly made his way to the doorway, listening as the two brothers hushed. He allowed himself one last second of respite before wiping the smile off his face and walking out into the dark hallway. Dick stood alone, leaning against the wall and whistling. He turned his head, seeing Bruce standing, observing him.

“Oh, hey Bruce! I’ve been looking for you.” Dick pushed off the wall, going to stand next to his Father. “I thought I’d visit, wait for you to get home, but you’re here!”

“What do you need?”

“Oh nothing much,” taking Bruce's arm, he began to drag him in the opposite direction, past the library. “I just got nostalgic, and wanted to take a trip down memory lane with my Pops.”

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Like I said, I was feeling nostalgic!”

Dick rattled on, leading him down the dark halls, and Bruce noticed Jason slipping into the library. He smiled, turning his attention back to his eldest. He couldn’t find himself to be angry about his sons keeping secrets from him. If he felt anything about tonight's endeavor, it was disappointment. Bruce Wayne had taught his sons to be sneakier than they had been tonight.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ♡ ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Jason, in his drunken haste, had almost tripped down the short flight of steps leading to the massive computer. He couldn't really blame the alcohol though—it was his fault for looking down at his arm every couple seconds, as though the black ink would fade away before he ever found out who you were. Even if it did, he had already committed the name to memory.

He knew how many letters were in your name, the number of syllables in the different parts of it. Despite this, he hadn’t yet spoken it out loud. For the last 30 minutes of his life, every breath he took held a certain weight to it, and the beating of his heart had persisted to be about 120 beats per minute.

He blamed it on the alcohol, but logically he knew the reason.

That little boy—the one he thought was dead and buried—was coming back to life, crawling his way out of the depths of Jason and settling into his gut.

His hand shook as he typed the name, every click of the keyboard ringing dully in his skull. Inhaling deeply, Jason hesitated for only a moment before clicking enter. Your name popped up surprisingly quickly, specifically registered under the “Wayne Scholarship” file.

His hand moved by its own volition and the link was clicked, a government ID popping up on the display.

Staring up at the photo of you in awe, his eyes flickered to the name and back to the photo, unbelieving that this was you. Your simple beauty was evident even through the low quality government ID.

He stared for a while, just taking in you. It was a little odd looking at the huge screen, knowing that you two were made for each other. The thought only made his heart speed up even more.

Digging into your file, he finds that you’re 20 and won’t be turning 21 for another seven months. The knowledge that he knows and you don’t makes him nauseous.

Clenching the edge of the table, he remembers that the reason he found you so quick was due to the Wayne Scholarship. You moved to Gotham for your third year of college to attend Gotham University, with most of the tuition paid for as long as you agree to stay away from any and all crime. Suddenly, he had found another reason to be thankful that Bruce was filthy rich. Your current residence was an old apartment complex in the University area, which was for the most part, free of crime. The more information he got from Bruce Wayne's files, the more his stomach fluttered.

That little boy was practically jumping up and down inside of him, chanting over and over again, “I knew it! I knew we would have a soulmate!”. As the information sunk in, he began to shake more violently, and he felt like his legs were barely holding his weight. In fear of throwing up or collapsing on the floor (or both), he fell backwards into Bruce's chair. A tear slid down Jason’s cheek, and then another, and another.

For the first time in a long time, Jason Todd sobbed.

2K notes · View notes