A demon writes messages on your mirror in blood, but they're useful messages, things like "Don't forget you have yoga at 2" or "You're out of milk".
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a shit ton of — there was only one bed — prompts
some of these are slight nsfw
facing your lover in bed, sharing a moment of vulnerability in which your eyes meet, and your gaze drops to each other's lips. you then turn away, but your lover can't quite look away from you
intertwining your fingers, and pulling away when you realize what's happening
you don't have anything to sleep in, so your lover lends you their shirt. a couple weeks later, you find the same shirt in your room. you never gave it back, and you're reminded of what it was like to sleep in the same bed as them
you share an accidental kiss and agree never to speak about it again, but you can't stop thinking about what happened that night
your enemy has been crying, it's a moment of vulnerability. they've only got one bed in their house, but they're in need of comfort, your comfort. you're a bit hesitant at first, but you're being asked to hold them tonight, so you let yourself into their bed
sleeping in the same bed, playing with each other's fingers. you think nothing of it, it's just platonic, but there's a huge sense of something else in your gazes
you assure your lover that you're good with taking the couch. a couple hours later, your lover goes to grab a glass of water, and sees you asleep on the couch. they carry you into their bed, feeling bad about you sleeping on the couch, and you subconsciously start snuggling them
''i mean... no big deal, right? we used to do this all the time as kids.''
joking about sleeping with each other as your lover straddles your hips, but then your lover get a little too close to your face, and things grow quiet, the previous playful atmosphere turning into something neither of you can explain. your lover removes themselves from your body, and neither of you say a word
you and your lover haven't talked in a while, you've had a bad argument. sleeping in the same bed however, you decide to talk things out
face-to-face with your lover, you say ''i've always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.'' your lover raises an eyebrow, considers for a moment. then, they pull you on top of them, and you pin their arms to the side. you lower your lips to meet theirs
you grab your lover by the face, caressing their check, assuring them that ''there's no one i'd rather share a bed with.'' you're both still in denial about your feelings
arguing over who should take the bed, realizing that you're not going to come to an agreement. you both decided to sleep on the floor
your enemy insist on sleeping in the same room as you, and knowing there's only one bed, you think this is their way of trying to kill you. but instead, they admit that the pent out sexual tension is getting too much, and suggest you sleep with each other to get it out of your system
there's two beds, but neither of you are sleeping. instead, you're looking at each other. longing for contact. eventually, you get out of the bed, and climb into your lover's
you refuse to take the bed, but your friend is stronger than you and throws you over their shoulder and onto the bed, determined to take the couch instead
you ask your lover if you can cuddle, seeing as you're already in bed together
you're friends, but there's only one bed, and there's unresolved feelings, and it's late, and suddenly your friend is on top of you, and you end up sleeping with each other
your enemy is reluctant to get into bed with you, but when you wake up the next day, you can feel their heartbeat, and their arms tightly wrapped around you
you're enemies, but there's tension, and you can feel your enemy's fingers trace down your body... you allow them to explore, and when your enemy pulls away, worried they've gone to far, you place their hand back on your body
you and your lover has slept with each other before, but you broke things off with each other. now, having to share a bed, you're both in agreement that nothing is going to happen between you. your relationship is over and done with. expect for the fact that you can't keep your hands off of each other
you're forced to sleep in your enemy's bed, and as you get in, you find a bunch of weapons hidden in the mattress
there's only one bed and you ask your lover if they have feelings for you, knowing that they can't escape the conversation. they're quiet at first, but then admit to being in love with you. not much else happens after that. hearing this confession, you don't know how to act
your enemy rolls on top of you, and with their body pressing into yours, eyes gazing deep into your eyes and slipping to your lips, you arch your body closer to them
there's only a small couch so you have no choice but to lay body to body, breathing each other in
the blanket isn't big enough for you to stay on either side of the bed so you're forced to scoot closer to each other (or there's only one pillow)
you and your lover has to undress in the same room. you turn your back against each other, but can't help taking a peek, and then your eyes meet, both of you caught in the act. you don't mention it to each other, but as you get into bed, you lay in silence, tortured by tension of not being able to touch each other
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Writing pro tip: If you can't figure out how a section of your story is supposed to go, just include a frame narrative about how you're actually translating a Medieval manuscript and write a translator's note explaining that that section of the manuscript was damaged
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the sexual tension between me and the blank word doc i've been staring at for two hours
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[Be] willing to write really badly.
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The Prophecy says you'll end the evil king's rule. So, instead of following your Master's training, you just went and tried to the kill the king cold turkey. It worked. You've pissed your Master and a dozen Gods but you don't care, since your reign will be long and prosperous, by the Prophecy.
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Categories of Plot Twists
Anagnorisis: a character learns a new piece of information about themselves or another character. “Anagnorisis, or discovery, is the protagonist's sudden recognition of their own or another character's true identity or nature. Through this technique, previously unforeseen character information is revealed.”
Flashback: “Flashback, or analepsis, a sudden, vivid reversion to a past event, surprises the reader with previously unknown information that solves a mystery, places a character in a different light, or reveals the reason for a previously inexplicable action.”
Cliffhanger: “A cliffhanger or cliffhanger ending, is a plot device in fiction which features a main character in a precarious or difficult dilemma or confronted with a shocking revelation at the end of an episode of serialized fiction.”
Unreliable Narrator: “An unreliable narrator twists the ending by revealing, almost always at the end of the narrative, that the narrator has manipulated or fabricated the preceding story, thus forcing the reader to question their prior assumptions about the text.”
Peripeteia: Peripeteia is a sudden reversal of the protagonist's fortune, whether for good or ill, that emerges naturally from the character's circumstances. Unlike the deus ex machina device, peripeteia must be logical within the frame of the story.
Deus Ex Machina: Deus ex machina is a Latin term meaning "god from the machine." It refers to an unexpected, artificial or improbable character, device or event introduced suddenly in a work of fiction to resolve a situation or untangle a plot.
Red Herring: A red herring is a false clue intended to lead investigators toward an incorrect solution. This device usually appears in detective novels and mystery fiction. The red herring is a type of misdirection, a device intended to distract the protagonist, and by extension the reader, away from the correct answer or from the site of pertinent clues or action.
False Protagonist: A false protagonist is a character presented at the start of the story as the main character, but then disposed of, usually killed.
Non-linear Narrative: A non-linear narrative works by revealing plot and character in non-chronological order. This technique requires the reader to attempt to piece together the timeline in order to fully understand the story. A twist ending can occur as the result of information that is held until the climax and which places characters or events in a different perspective.
Reverse Chronology: Reverse chronology works by revealing the plot in reverse order, i.e., from final event to initial event. Unlike chronological storylines, which progress through causes before reaching a final effect, reverse chronological storylines reveal the final effect before tracing the causes leading up to it; therefore, the initial cause represents a "twist ending".
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Describe your OC’s perfect day
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“I can practically hear you thinking from over here,” Villain muttered.
“So?” Hero asked.
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When is a monster not a monster?
When you give it a name in the shape of love; when you say it's name over and over and it comes back to you. When you say here is my hand that will not harm you — with your loving palm out, cupped and unlatched, let it eat — a waning beast on his knees lost and forlorn, but sloughing off layers of dark matter ready for gold. His pupils, two full moons, plead languidly with yours, to wipe the blood from his chin; to give him a second heart. If he takes the new heart the wolf shrinks back into the naked human. He is a broken light bulb inside a hallway of closed coffins; his skin grapples to keep the monster inside. I gingerly step into the trees; the forest is wet as a bloodied knife and my fingers welcome the hilt; and I take the knife out of the beast's back, and my voice says, I forgive you, I forgive you, listen to me, I won't leave you.
The two silhouettes are light-years away. Two candle wick shadows weaving together: midnight bleeding ink between our shoulder blades. Just two shadows thrown together on mottled bark, sashaying into a performed dance. It begins, the entanglement of human from beast, a tongue curling around each syllable and a mouthful of names. Hook your thumbs under the jawbone; you are not dancing with the devil, you are forgiving yourself. You are whispering, forgive me, forgive me.
I run through a downpour, I want to be clean — I am a sinner looking to be found, take your own hands and you will learn to love a monster.
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A human just barely chained together 2000 demonic contracts in an infinite feedback loop, exploiting loopholes in each in order to fuel the next. All of hell's lawyers are furious.
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Could you write some dialogue prompts for when one character is recovering from an injury(ies) and the other takes care of them/keeps them company? Thanks in advance!
“ you've done more than enough. “ “ don't be silly. i like spending time with you. “
“ you're not a burden. “
“ i'll get you some bandages. “
“ whatever would you do if i wasn't here to take care of you?
“ hey, thank you. i really appreciate you being here. “
“ if you need anything, just shout. “
“ you really don't think i want to be here? “ “ i just don't want you to spend the entire night taking care of me. “
“ you should head home. get some sleep. “ “ you can barely make it to the bathroom on your own. “ “ i can crawl...? “
“ does it hurt? “ “ just a little. it's getting better, though. “
“ you're bleeding again. “
“ so... this is nice, right? “
“ i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried about you. “
“ make yourself at home. “
“ i couldn't ask for better company. “
“ how long will you be staying? “ “ for as long as you need me. “
“ don't move. stay still. “
“ at least you're home, right? “
“ hey, if you don't want me taking care of you, you'll end up back in the hospital faster than... “
“ you know, this is nice -- “ “ i've literally got three broken bones. “ “ i didn't mean -- not like that -- “
“ go get some rest. i'll be fine. “
“do you need anything? “ “ maybe a glass of water. and some ice-cream. “
“ hey, let me see... “
“ did you change your bandage? “
“ you just focus on getting better, and i'll handle the rest. “
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This might be a weird question, but I realized in my mind spitfire was completely original, but also that you posted it on ao3. So does that mean one can post original work on ao3? Also, without pairing tags, how do people find your work?
spitfire is completely original work and while AO3 was created for fan fiction i’ve never seen anyone have an issue with posting original work there.
as for how people find my work… i’ve been doing things in the internet for the past 10 years and some people enjoy what i do! art, comics, music, etc… i’ve done a lot of things! this is my first foray into prose tho haha.
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“You are destined to save the world.”
“This is not a world worth saving.”
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First & Lasts ~ Hero x Villain
I was struggling with writer’s block, so I attempted my first ever Hero x Villain oneshot, so here you go. Thank you @writing-on-the-wahl for the beta read!!
Warnings: blood and death
Villain had always been extraordinarily proud.
Even when he’d been caught by Hero and placed in a cell that canceled out his superstrength, he’d made sure everyone in the whole prison knew who he was.
He could tear down buildings, hold up bridges, break tree trunks like toothpicks. He was ruthless, refusing to let up until he’d gotten what he wanted.
Everything was possible, nothing was impossible, and he could bring the whole world to his feet if he so desired.
Only one person had ever been able to stop him.
And now he was holding pressure on the knife wound to her abdomen.
“Stay with me,” he ordered. When Hero didn’t answer, he looked up to see, through the holes of her mask, her eyes falling shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she grumbled. Nevertheless, she obeyed, her eyes fluttering open to reveal the glassiness of her gaze.
She was getting worse.
Villain gnashed his teeth together. Never before had he wished he was born with healing powers instead of superstrengh, but today was a day of firsts.
The first time he’d ever staged a breakout, the first time he’d freed dozens of villains, and the first time he’d ever felt so helpless.
Never in a million years had he considered that Hero would try and stop them all by herself. Running as fast as he could, he’d still been too far away to intervene when one of the escapees had stabbed Hero with her own knife.
He swore under his breath, vowing to track down the criminal and make him pay.
“Why couldn’t you just let them all go?” His frustration turned his voice into a growl.
“And ruin my reputation?” Even as she lay in a rapidly growing pool of her own blood, her smirk was still the same. “The government would have my head.”
“So, as usual, you just made everything worse,” he snapped.
He didn’t mean it, of course he didn’t mean it.
But Hero laughed bitterly, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. When she pulled her hand away from her mouth, Villain spotted the trickle of blood making its way down her chin.
Quickly averting his eyes, he looked back down at his hands pressing down on the wound. She was bleeding so fast, and he hadn’t slightest idea on what to do besides what he was already doing.
“You’re going to be fine, Hero,” he said, more to himself than to her. “You’ve faced worse than this.” Regrettably, at his hands. “A knife wound is nothing.”
Hero grinned, showing off her teeth stained with red. “I never took you...for such...blatant optimist.” She was clearly struggling to catch her breath.
He ignored her quip, looking back at the prison building, which was still smoking. “The authorities are probably already on their way, and they’ll be able to save you.”
“You don’t know much...about human anatomy...do you?”
Focused on the rapid rising and falling of her chest, Villain didn’t answer.
“I’m beyond saving.”
“Shut up,” Villain said fiercely. “You’ll make it.”
She shook her head. “Penetrating trauma...to the abdomen. Likely severed my...abdominal aorta. There’s nothing...you can do.”
She was being so brave. The only sign that she was in any pain was the single tear going down her cheek. Villain would never admit it, but it was becoming hard to see due to the moisture growing in his own eyes.
“Defeated by my own knife.” Hero chuckled, her stomach moving up and down underneath his hands. “It’d be...funny if it weren’t so...tragic.”
Villain shook his head angrily. “You didn’t have to die like this, you could’ve just walked away.”
“What kind of...hero would I be...if I walked away?”
“Maybe you wouldn’t be a hero, but-” His voice broke, and he wished his super strength wasn’t just physical. “But you’d be alive.”
Hero reached up and pulled the mask off of her face.
“What are you doing?” Villain hissed, restraining the urge to cover his eyes like a child watching a scary movie. He’d never seen Hero’s face, had never even tried to picture it. Her identity rested as much in the mask as it did underneath it.
“There’s no point...not anymore,” she mumbled.
Conflicted, Villain kept his eyes down, as if looking at her face was admitting that she’d never again need to protect her identity. But his curiosity got the better of him.
Taking a deep breath, he looked.
Somehow, she looked exactly as he thought she would, down to the singular freckle beside her right eye. His heart skipped a beat as she calmly met his eyes.
But it was short lived. As if she couldn’t hold it up anymore, her hand fell back to her side, and her mask tumbled from her fingers to rest against the grass.
Villain shook his head. “There has to be something more we can do, we can’t just give up!” Hero let out a whimper, and he realized he’d been pushing against her wound hard enough to break her ribs. “Sorry,” he muttered, quickly lightening his pressure. “Do you have your phone? We could call 911.”
Hero weakly shook her head. “Nobody can know.”
“What do you mean no one can know?” he demanded.
“Between you ending up in court or a morgue, I say we choose court.”
“Villain...they wouldn’t get here...in time.”
He knew she was right, but he felt so helpless. There had to be more he could do than just kneeling here, holding pressure until she...
“Do you…” He paused, trying to push down the lump in his throat. “Do you have anyone you should call?”
She blinked, her eyes welling with tears. “I...I wouldn’t be able...to say I’m…” she trailed off, clearly not wanting to say it. “Non-disclosure.”
“Hero,” Villain said gently. “Call them. Even if you don’t tell them the truth.” He swallowed hard. “I know I’d want to hear your voice one last time.”
“Okay.” Slowly, she unzipped a pocket he hadn’t noticed before. When she struggled to pull the phone out, without thinking, Villain reached over a hand and pulled it out for her.
“Who am I calling?” he asked. Her ragged and shallow breathing made Villain acutely aware of his own.
“My boyfriend.” Villain’s whole body went cold. “His name...is Civilian.”
It wasn’t like they sat down and had coffee to catch up every week, he knew barely anything about Hero.
But for some reason, he felt like he would’ve known if she had a boyfriend.
He could linger on it some other time. For now he just nodded, numbly pressing the contact before setting the phone on speaker and leaving it in the grass so he could go back to holding pressure with both hands.
Every ring was torture.
Villain couldn’t tell if he did or didn’t want Civilian to answer the phone. From the look on Hero’s face, she didn’t know either.
The ringing stopped. “Hello?”
The twisting in Villain’s gut suddenly got so much worse.
The tears in Hero’s eyes finally started to fall. “Civilian?” Her voice was so strangled, Villain was willing to wager that this phone call hurt more than the knife wound.
Villain’s lip curled at the cheesy nickname, but Hero laughed freely. “I told you...to stop calling me that.”
Damn, she was a good actress. Nothing in her voice alluded to anything being amiss. Villain almost would’ve fallen for it himself...if he couldn’t see her chin trembling.
A wam chuckle came from the phone. “Only when I forget you singing that song.”
“It was the only song...I knew all the words to.”
“It’s karaoke,” said Civilian with a laugh. “They always have the lyrics up on the screen!”
Villain had to look away from the look of complete and utter anguish on Hero’s face.
“I miss you,” Civilian grumbled. “You’ve been away for ages.”
“I’ll be home before you know it.” Villain’s head whipped back to Hero’s face, but she was staring at the phone.
The soft cheer from the speaker made her smile. “My sunshine’s coming home,” Civilian’s voice crooned. Villain felt the shudder run through Hero’s body. “Hey, babe, I gotta run, my shift is starting soon. See you when you get home?”
Villain shut his eyes, unable to stomach the words. But he couldn’t plug his ears.
“Goodbye,” Hero said faintly.
Civilian hung up, and Hero turned her face away from Villain, her shoulders rising once as she let out a choked sob.
“It’ll be alright,” Villain found himself saying. “Everything will be okay.”
“The next time he sees me,” Hero choked out, “I’ll be in a casket.”
Villain helplessly tried to think of something to say, something that would comfort her, but he came up short.
“You should go…if you’re still here…when the authorities arrive…they’ll lock you up again.”
Villain fixed her with a cold, unyielding stare. “I’m not leaving you. Nobody deserves to die alone.”
He prayed Hero could believe that was the reason he’d stayed.
But Hero didn’t give him any indication that she’d heard him. Was she giving up?
Somehow, that seemed worse than anything else that had happened so far. False hope would be better than nothing, if only so she’d smile at him one last time.
“Help is–help is coming, and they’ll help you, and you’ll be completely fine.”
Villain suddenly realized her chest wasn’t moving up and down anymore.
“Hero?” He shook her gently. “No, pl-please wake up.” He shook her again, harder, but her head lulled to the side at an unnatural angle, her eyes fixed and unseeing.
Villain lifted his bloody hands, stumbling away from Hero’s body.
He was a villain, for heaven's sake. Not only had he seen dead bodies before, but he’d been the reason they were dead.
And yet, the nausea rose up, and he twisted before throwing up on the grass.
When the nausea ceased, he wished it would come back, because now, he was empty. Numb. Lifeless. As if half of him had gone with Hero.
He did the only thing he could think of.
With one last look at her, he ran.
Reinforcements showed up far too late.
“Such a shame.” One of the agents tucked Hero’s arm into the body bag before zipping it up. “If only she’d hidden when all the prisoners escaped instead of trying to stop them.”
The female agent shook her head. “She was the only one able to arrest Villain. Who will stop him now?”
“Such a shame,” the male agent repeated. “Policy says she won’t even get a funeral.”
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Welcome new friends, old friends, and sewer friends, to the third annual Writeblr Summerfest! We’re about to partake in a month long exploration of our wips, our characters, and our writing habits – paired with frequent fun games, chances to give gifts to others, and even a writing contest that will be launched mid-month.
That’s not all, though.
This year, we’re amping up the fun and taking the Summerfest in a whole new, hyper interactive direction – with all new bonus features, as picked out by you at last year’s polls!
This year’s theme?
That’s right! We’re going to take a roadtrip through the chapters of your WIP, getting to know each other’s characters on the long, winding car ride, stopping at fascinating tourist traps, and moving towards making memories that will never be forgotten.
Each week, there will be a special Pit Stop Post to help progress your roadtrip!
But wait! There’s more!
Mid-way through the month, we’re going to host two writing contests. One will be free to enter, and one will have a $2 entrance fee; each with a prize! While more information on this will be released on the 7th, the 10th, and then (when it starts) on the 15th, here are the basic facts. The free to enter contest will have a piece of art drawn for the prize by @abalonetea (that’s me!) and the the pay-to-enter will have a physical prize that will be mailed out to the winner! (entrance fee helps cover the cost of the three prizes, as well as the shipping fees!)
We’re going to have writing prompts, and moodboard prompts, and places to talk about the things that make your WIP tick. We’re going to share playlists, and summer writing snack recipes, and help boost each other’s stories, confidence, and love for the different pieces that make our writing special, unique, and whole.
This event is no commitment – respond to and share the prompts and posts that catch your interest and skip the rest! That being said, it’s strongly encouraged for you to send in an ask to whoever you reblog the Summerfest Prompt Lists from, and to reblog and comment on the entries submitted by other writeblrs!
I hope that we can make this roadtrip one that we’ll always remember!
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It's the not-so-far future, the US finally adopts the Metric system. As it's signed into law, a booming voice echos across for all to hear: "Humanity, we've waited eons for you to agree on one thing. Now you may finally join us."
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missing their family
“ i haven't seen my family in a really long time. it's hard. “
“ i don't get to visit as often as i would like to. “
“ my siblings and i used to talk everyday but, we're all so busy with our own life now.
“ my family is everything to me. “
“ i miss my family. a lot. “
“ sometimes i wish i could just, drive home, you know? “
“ it's hard being so far away from the people you love. “
“ i miss my mom. sometimes i wish i could just hug her. “
“ my dad is everything to me. he's the only one who can make me smile when i'm hurting. “
“ they're only a phone call away but, it's not the same thing. “
“ my family, yeah. they're out of town. or, well, i guess technically i am. “
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Meet the Characters of Wings of Faith!
Wings of Faith is the YA Fantasy novel I’ve been working on for the past eight years about an angel and his ragtag group of demon pals trying to break out of Hell! (Essentially Six of Crows x Dante’s Inferno)
Although the narrative itself has undergone countless edits and revisions, the characters are the ones that have evolved in the most interesting ways, and I think out of everything Wings of Faith has to offer, the characters are what really shine through!
I’ve posted a lot about them before, but I wanted to make one big post where you can meet them all one-by-one!
AKA the one-winged angel with daddy issues, an attitude problem, and more baggage than you can legally bring on an airplane.
I’m not sure what happened between the first draft of Wings of Faith and now, but for some reason this “smol bean cinnamon roll too good for this world” stereotype has somehow evolved into the angelic embodiment of that one-eyed stray cat in your neighborhood that’s been hit by a car twice but refuses to die.
Perhaps the least holy angel you will ever have the displeasure of meeting, Andrew is the primary protagonist and narrator of Wings of Faith, telling the story from his first-person point of view (although this unreliable little shit’s not very good at it, and you might be able to pick up on things that he doesn’t!)
As one of the countless angels captured and forced into slavery in the universe’s hottest basement, he’s put his halos and harps on the backburner to survive. But when he’s rescued by a so-called “terrorist cult” bent on bringing down Hell’s regime from the inside, he must be willing to sacrifice everything to break out of Hell, and maybe even........[shiver] allow himself to rely on other people.
Fun facts about Andrew:
Andrew has many aliases, including “The Wings of Faith,” “Bluebird,” and his serial number, IA-006.
Because God is Andrew’s dad, Andrew usually uses phrases like “For Father’s sake” rather than saying God.
Angels have incredible hearing, and as a result Andrew can detect if someone is lying by their heartbeat.
Andrew’s favorite food is pancakes and his favorite color is yellow.
AKA the Mom Friend/ Knife Wife who enjoys the company of her pet shapeshifting shadow demon, Rimfaxe.
A character who used to be a carbon-copy of the main character from my very first novel from fifth grade (which was essentially a glorified PJO fanfiction), Emmie has (thankfully) evolved into someone much more than that.
Not only is she compassionate, mischievous, and an avid animal lover, but she also happens to be a member of the Order of the Seraphim, Hell’s top domestic terrorist organization! Who doesn’t love a cutesy war criminal?
She’s the matriarch of a family of three, which includes herself, her himbo husband Seth, and her shapeshifting shadow demon Rimfaxe, whom she stole from the government. Unfortunately for her, not only does she have to inject common sense into her dumbass husband, but also into our equally dumbass lead protagonist, Andrew.
Emmie’s the shoulder to cry on, the voice of guidance, and one of the top choices of women whom I want to step on me. God, I’d take a bullet for her.
Fun facts about Emmie:
Emmie is named after Esmeralda from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, because they both are compassionate badasses with cool pets.
Emmie’s codename in the Order of the Seraphim is “Beatrice-12,” which pays homage to Dante Alighieri’s love interest in Dante’s Inferno
Although Emmie is a demon, her demonic mark is hidden beneath her clothing, making her the most approachable and least threatening member of the Order.
Emmie considers Rimfaxe her kid.
AKA The dog-loving stoner who faked his own death to join a terrorist cult. The brawn but certainly not the brains.
The aforementioned himbo malewife of Emmie, Seth is the supportive pothead that you didn’t know you needed in your life.
But just because he lacks common sense doesn’t mean he’s stupid; in fact, he’s one of the top warriors for the Order of the Seraphim, and his strength, skills, and experience are unparalleled to any other member.
He’s got a past he doesn’t talk about, vibes that Andrew absolutely hates, and a fierce devotion to anyone and everyone around him, though he won’t hesitate to call people out on their bullshit when he needs to.
But even when he’s mad, everyone knows that hard exterior will eventually melt away into a big softie who just wants to escape Hell with his wife...though perhaps the two of them have some ulterior motives, unbeknownst to Andrew.
Fun facts about Seth:
Seth’s demonic mark is his pupils, which are slit like a snake’s.
Seth is demon-born, which means he was never a human damned to Hell; he has two demon parents and is the youngest of thirteen.
His weapons of choice are his pearl-handled butterfly knives, and he wears a dog whistle made of bone around his neck; these items are the only things he has of the family he left behind.
Seth is severely allergic to cats.
AKA the mad scientist and demonic embodiment of Monster Energy.
Jude is the only character out of this whole lineup who didn’t exist in my first draft. She is a blend of several different characters whom I combined, both in appearance and in personality, and I couldn’t be happier that she’s grown into such an integral character (who also happens to be one of the most fun to write!)
Ever wanted to meet someone who toes the line between “unparalleled genius” and “actual maniac”? Then Jude’s the demon for you! She’s the one in charge of forging all of the weapons for the Order of the Seraphim, and has a wide array of inventions and experiments under her belt that’ll make you wonder if she was too busy wondering if she COULD rather than if she SHOULD.
It’s almost impossible to understand a single word that comes out of her mouth, and yet she, Emmie, and Seth have forged a wonderful friendship as three of the most important people that the Order of the Seraphim has among their ranks. Without Jude to keep the world turning, there’d be no chance in Hell for them against Lucifer’s regime.
Fun facts about Jude:
Jude’s demonic mark is her ram’s horns, one of which was broken off at the end in an inventing accident. This uneven distribution of weight causes her head to tilt like she’s perpetually confused.
Jude makes toys and models out of her leftover energy drink cans.
Unlike everyone else, Jude comes from a loving family who thinks she’s doing top secret government work rather than helping out the Order of the Seraphim.
Jude collects oddities like doll arms, empty tequila bottles, and cutlery and hangs them from the ceiling of her forge.
AKA The no-nonsense leader of the Order of the Seraphim who probably didn’t think Thanos’ idea was all that bad when he first watched.
Geneva Convention? More like Geneva suggestion; this sexy cult leader doesn’t seem to understand that the war crimes listed here are NOT a To-Do list. He’s been working tirelessly since the Second War in Heaven to bring down Hell’s government from the inside, even if it means turning his innocent God-worshipping Order of the Seraphim into a legit terrorist organization!
Dante is a master strategist whose wits are outmatched only by Jude’s, but what gives him a cutting edge is his ability to channel his intelligence through his charisma, fostering a ride-or-die devotion from all of his subordinates. His stoicism and ability to perform under pressure have made him the envy of all, though with the amount of work he gets done there’s a big question of whether or not he sleeps.
He really is the only one with any brain cells around here, and really the kind of guy you definitely don’t want to disappoint...because I’ve got a feeling that his “Oh, it’s fine; you tried your best” could just as easily morph into “Your free trial to life has expired.”
Fun facts about Dante:
People are unsure if Dante is his real name, or if it’s an alias to conceal his identity.
His demonic mark is a ridge of spines that runs down his back.
No one knows what he did to get sent to Hell, but he’s been down there long enough to have witnessed the Second War in Heaven.
Dante’s workaholic nature has left him with a short temper and no mercy for those who get in his way.
AKA The Antichrist, Hell's Grandmaster Warlock, and professional asshole.
He’s the snarky love interest that everyone’s been waiting for, and unfortunately he’s got a whole lot of self-help ahead of him if he wants to ever truly earn the affections of the one he’s got eyes for.
For one thing, he’s gotta get over his crippling addiction to cocaine and his unparalleled narcissism.
As a powerful magician the Order of the Seraphim kidnapped as part of their plan to break out of Hell, he’s been downgraded from an A-list celebrity to a pawn forced to hang out with the rest of these losers. He’s the kind of guy who says he “tells it like it is” but actually is just using that as an excuse to be a horrible person, and he knows how to get you where it hurts!
The only problem is that his aloof demeanor and bad attitude may just earn himself a knife in the back before this whole ordeal is over.
Fun facts about Ashton:
Ashton has won and maintained the title of “Hell’s Sexiest Servant of Lucifer” for seventy years.
Ashton widely indulges in life’s temptations, and is a big fan of coke, sex, and general merrymaking.
Ashton’s demonic mark is his square-pupiled goat eyes. He also has heterochromia, making one eye blue and the other gold.
As the Antichrist, Ashton has the limited power of controlling people by commanding them with his voice. He can only use this a few times within a short period before he is exhausted.
Wings of Faith Masterpost
If you have any questions about Wings of Faith or any of its characters, don’t hesitate to send me an ask! I’d love to talk about them!
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