#mr president I think there's a traitor in your midst

[absolutepokemontrash]

All Demons are Entitled to Vacation Time (Because The Devildom Isn’t a Dystopia)

Part One (you are here!) Part Two Masterlist

Genuine friends in the Devildom were hard to come by, and the human exchange student had noticed that the brothers had been working her new friend to death, so she decided that the poor bastard needed some time off. The brothers agreed, but come to notice that they may have become a tad dependent on their makeshift assistant’s help.

(Just a heads up, this fic features an OC and my personal MC, so the MC will be using she/her pronouns, if you’re uncomfortable with that, no harm no foul, see you next fic. Anyway, enjoy Paimon’s mental breakdown and the boys being jerks!)

“Do you need anything else, Lord Lucifer?”

“Yes Paimon, get me a coffee.”

“The usual?”

“Yes, and do hurry up, I have work to do.”

Paimon quickly nodded and scampered out of Lucifer’s office at RAD. Sure it was after school, and sure Paimon had other things to do, and sure, he needed to sleep, but when the seven rulers of hell declare you their assistant, you be their fucking assistant.

“Oi!” Paimon felt the back of his uniform get balled up and he braced himself to be thrown into the nearest locker. “Pipsqueak, I need help with my homework.”

“H-hi Lord Mammon, s-sure, when do you want-”

“Nah nah nah,” Mammon spun Paimon around to face him. “I need, ‘help’ with my homework.”

The purple haired demon winced as he rummaged around his backpack and pulled out the assignment that Mammon had neglected to do. “R-remember to change up some words so-”

“I know how to copy homework! I’m not some dunce!” Mammon not so nicely set Paimon free from his 80s movie bully shirt grab and walked off. He whistled some made up tune and sporadically grumbled about finding his missing human.

Cheating on assignments was punishable by hanging from one’s thumbs in the glorified torture chamber known as the detention hall. Paimon had never been down there due to the fact that the place was reserved for the worst troublemakers, but he was pretty sure Mammon was familiar with it. Why didn’t he learn..?

While entranced with his thoughts of torture and mayhem, (see, Paimon could be a demon sometimes) Paimon didn’t notice the Avatar of Envy peeking around the nearest corner and nearly ran right into him.

“S-sorry Lord Leviathan!” Paimon sputtered. Levi’s head swivelled to Paimon as he began to stutter out a reply.

“G-good! You’re here! Get rid of them!”

“Get rid of who..?” Paimon looked around the corner and noticed a group of students just milling about and chatting. “Oh, right away sir.”

This wasn’t the first time Paimon had to do traffic control for Leviathan, and it wouldn’t be his last. He made up some bullshit lie about the hall needing to be cleaned and the students grumbled and slowly filed out. Once the hall was clear, Levi brushed past Paimon without even so much as a thank-you. He mumbled something about sending normies to deal with normies and disappeared down the hall.

Next up on his trip to get Lucifer a coffee, he ran into Satan, thankfully, he didn’t literally run into him.

“Ah, Paimon, give these to Barbatos, last time I saw him he was in the colosseum with Lord Diavolo.” Satan, barely even looking at the poor demon, slapped a huge stack of papers into his arms and strode down the hallway like he didn’t have a care in the world. Shit, and Paimon still had to get Lucifer coffee…

“Ah, there you are Paimon dear,” Paimon needed to muster up all his willpower to not openly roll his eyes as he met the gaze of the cheery Avatar of Lust.

“Lord Asmodeus,” Paimon said blankly. “How may I help you?”

“Take these to Majolish after you’re done… whatever you’re doing. On the double, sil vou plait!” Asmo shoved a massive stack of fabric on top of the paperwork Paimon was holding, causing him to stumble back a bit. “And if any of those touch this disgusting floor, I will personally claw each of your little freckles off your face.”

“Yes sir…” Paimon barely suppressed a growl as Asmo sashayed away from what one could barely call a conversation. As much as Paimon wanted to throw both the fabric and the paperwork into the nearest trash can, Paimon knew that both things could be recycled, and he also valued his life and his freckles.

Maybe he could run to the colosseum on the way to getting Lucifer’s coffee, torture two traitors with one tool, or however the saying goes! Paimon picked up his pace, his vision almost completely obscured by the massive pile of fabric. Despite nearly tripping twice, he made it to the kitchen, started up the coffee maker, then ran to the colosseum to drop off the paperwork.

“Mr. Barbatos?” Paimon’s call for the butler’s attention was cut off by a growl that sent shivers down his spine. Right in the centre of the colosseum the Fangol team was getting into “oh fuck” formation. That could only mean one thing and one thing only… oh no… Lord Beelzebub was hungry… really hungry… who didn’t order snacks?!

“Dammit dammit dammit…” Paimon squeaked as he shifted the paperwork and fabric and rummaged through his bag for his lunch. If Beel didn’t get some sustenance quickly he’d wreck the entire school! “L-Lord Beelzebub?! D-D-Do you want my luh-lunch? Sir?”

Beel’s head swung around to the sound of Paimon’s voice and before he could blink, the Avatar of Gluttony was towering over him. Paimon gulped and held out his lunch bag, and Beel snatched it up and ate the entire thing whole. Well… Paimon needed to replace the lunch bag anyway… and he could always eat later. His stomach growled pitifully. He had made the mistake of skipping lunch…

“Mmm… more.” Beel said, Paimon was still shaking in his designer knockoff school shoes.

“S-sorry, I don’t have anything e-else but the cafeteria has leftovers I think…” Paimon squeaked, Beel nodded and lumbered off towards the cafeteria, his hunger tantrum momentarily halted. Paimon breathed a quick sigh of relief before he heard the sound of someone stirring from a nap next to him.

“Mmph…” Belphegor shot Paimon a glare that only those who just woke up from an hour long nap could. “What took you so long?”

“M-my apologies, Lord Belphegor.” Paimon adjusted his glasses and frowned. “Pardon, but do you know where Mr. Barbatos is?”

“The kitchen, he was making something for Beel.”

Paimon had… he just left the kitchen… damn it. Paimon nodded in thanks and rushed towards the kitchen. The coffee was done, the paperwork was delivered, the fabric hadn’t touched the ground, and Paimon was on his way to give Lucifer his stupid- I mean needed beverage.

He limply pushed open the door to Lucifer’s office with his shoulder and placed the coffee on his desk. Lucifer didn’t look up from his paperwork and raised an eyebrow. “I did say quickly, didn’t I?”

Paimon bit down on his lip, a tic developed under his left eye and he clenched his fists until he felt blood trickle from his palms. “S-sorry, Lord Lucifer. I’ll do better next time, sir.”

“You’re dismissed, Paimon.”

The moment those words left Lucifer’s lips, Paimon turned on his heel and walked right out of the office. He was done, so tired and… and so angry! He just wanted to relax, he just wanted to relax. Paimon’s feet led him to the concert hall. Ah, he was supposed to be the president of the school’s band, not the student council’s resident doormat. He could just call on his undead parade and play some music… that always kept him calm.

His thoughts of relaxation were brought to an abrupt halt the moment Paimon felt the sting of recent magic in the air around the hallway that led to the concert hall. Oh no, please tell him there wasn’t a fight near the concert hall, please tell him-

Two of his band members were in their true forms and hurling insults at each other. Phenex and Eurynome were standing in the midst of a completely destroyed concert hall, the instruments were scattered around the room, dented and completely broken… the two brawling demons paused when they noticed Paimon at the door.

“Prez! You won’t believe this shit! Someone vandalized our stuff, and Phenex’s accusing me!”

“Paimon! You hafta believe me! I walked in and Eury was-”

Their voices had become unintelligible background noise, Paimon’s eyes were glued to the destroyed instruments, his instruments… he felt his shoulders shake and his chest begin to tighten. Why… why!? Why him?! Why today?! Paimon dropped the fabric and his backpack onto the ground and slowly dug his partially bloodied palms into his hair. To his absolute horror, he felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Don’t cry- Don’t cry! He can’t cry!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHGHGGHHHHH!” Paimon let out a screech like a wounded animal, he felt his true form beg to be released so he could wreak absolute havoc on everyone and everything in a mile radius, but he yanked down on his hair and brought himself back to reality.

“Paimon?” The demon in question slowly turned, the human exchange student herself awkwardly stood a few feet behind him, seeming to not be sure exactly what to do. “Are… are you okay..?”

“Y-yes…” Paimon mumbled, his fists began to shake. “Th-thank you Ms. Himiko but I’m fi-”

Paimon’s voice broke and Himiko fixed the other two demons behind him with a glare that could probably kill a man. “YOU TWO. Clean this up right now!”

Before he could react, Himiko pulled Paimon into an empty classroom and slammed the door behind her. “Pai, what happened? Do you need to sit down?”

“Nuh-ne-no! I-I-if i suh-sit down I’ll fu-fall aslee-eep…” Paimon awkwardly hiccuped. Trying to talk through the lump in his throat was proving to be very difficult.

“Paimon… do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Himiko’s voice was oddly gentle, almost sisterly in a way as she sat Paimon down in one of the desks in the room. “I’m here to listen.”

“Thanks Ms. Himiko… sorry…” and with that, Paimon began to explain.

———————

“BOYS!”

The scream of rage was punctuated by the slamming of the front door of the House of Lamentation and the angry clicking of heels going towards the living room. Six of the seven rulers of hell sat dead straight in their chairs, geez this little human had really whipped them good.

“Stupid human! Let go of my ear-yeeeeeeOW! Sorry! Sorry! Have mercy, tiny overlord-” Mammon was dragged into the living room by the ear and shoved onto one of the couches. She let her glare rest on each and every one of the demons before she spoke again.

“So, Asmo,” Himiko turned to Asmo with a calm smile, but the Avatar of Lust was anything but calm. “You think you’re too good to deliver your own fabric to the place where you work?”

“Uh… what are you talking about Himi?”

“Paimon! You told him to deliver your fabric to Majolish!” Himiko then turned to Mammon, who was already looking for an opportune time to bolt to the exit. “Mammon! You took his homework to copy, didn’t you!?”

“I-uh-”

“Satan!” Himiko stamped her foot and swivelled to glare at the relatively calm Avatar of Wrath. “You can’t just dump your paperwork on him like that!”

“Himiko-”

“CRAM IT!” Satan’s mouth clamped shut and he levelled an absolutely murderous glare at the human, but remained seated. “Levi! What the hell’s the matter with you!? Did anyone ever teach you that it’s polite to say THANK YOU?!”

Levi awkwardly shifted in his seat and sputtered out a barely intelligible reply, but Himiko was already turning to Beel and Belphie.

“Belphie! Beel! What the fuck were you two on during Fangol practice?!” Belphie grumpily lifted his head from his pillow and Beel mumbled out an apology. “Beel! You cannot just throw your hunger tantrums whenever you don’t have food handy, I thought you had enough common sense to realize that the kitchen wasn’t that far from the colosseum! And Belphie! Why didn’t you pack snacks for Beel like you were supposed to!?”

“Himiko why the fuck are you so upset about-”

“Shut UP.” Belphie was in the same boat as Satan in a matter of nanoseconds, the Avatar of Sloth rolled his eyes and went back to resting his head on his pillow.

“And you, Lucifer, the eldest and best of the bunch.” Himiko’s words were laced with enough poison to take down a fully grown grizzly bear as she stared down Lucifer with a glare cold enough to snuff out a fire. “I have one question: would it kill you to show some appreciation to the people who help you? A thank you? An appreciative nod? Or is your head rammed so far up your own ass you’ve forgotten basic courtesy?”

In a blink of an eye Lucifer was standing in front of Himiko. He was a good foot taller than her even in his human form, but she looked right back up at him with zero fear.

“Care to repeat that, Himiko?” Lucifer’s words were as sharp as a razor, he narrowed his eyes when Himiko didn’t even flinch. “If I were you, I’d choose your next words very carefully.”

“Or what?” Himiko asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’re going to try and kill me again?”

The room went completely still. It was so silent that they could hear Cerberus rustling around in the Underground Tomb. No one said a word as Himiko casually smoothed down her skirt. “You know what they say, third times the charm. Are you going to listen to me or are you going to explain to Diavolo why I’m a bloody smear on the wall?”

Lucifer held her gaze for a few more seconds, until he sighed and sat back down, still not breaking eye contact with the human. “What do you want, Himiko?”

“I want you all to give Paimon a week off, or, you pay him to be your actual assistant. Putting up with you boys’ crap should be a full paying job.” Himiko raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Give him a week off, live without him for a bit, and treat him nicer when he comes back. Unless of course, the seven rulers of hell can’t survive without their assistant?”

Lucifer bristled and crossed his arms. “…fine.”

———————

Sleep went by too quickly… way too quickly. Paimon rubbed his eyes and trudged through the hallway. Stupid mondays… stupid school… stupid Mammon… wait did Paimon say that out loud, because the Avatar of Greed and Lucifer himself were standing right in front of him.

“Sup pipsqueak.”

“Hello Paimon.”

Oh, Paimon must have fucked up bad somehow for the Avatar of Pride and the Avatar of Greed to have stopped him in the hallway. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. The sweet release of death was coming. But what exactly had Paimon done? Was talking to the human exchange student a punishable offence?!

“Lord Lucifer! Lord Mammon! Uh… how can I help you?” Paimon smiled nervously, at this point, nervous was his default state, so this was his normal smile.

“Ya can help us by handin’ over your lunch mon-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Mammon,” the signature clicking of Himiko’s heels on the stone floor alerted the three demons to her arrival before her voice did. “Stop being a douche.”

“We’re here to offer you a week off.” Lucifer ignored both Himiko and Mammon and kept his eyes fixed on Paimon. “Himiko noticed you were five seconds away from a stress induced heart attack so she campaigned for you to get some time off.”

“I-I-I’m fine, that’s very nice of you to offer but I’m coping well with my extra duties.”

Extra duties, also known as ‘nice things Paimon was doing for a group of demons he respected, which those demons then began to expect him to do all the damn time.’

“Paimon,” Himiko raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re left arm is shaking.”

Paimon silently cursed his stupid arm. “Those are normal shakes!”

“Fuck dude… I don’t even like ya and I want you to take a vacation.”

“Consider it less of an offer and more of an order.” Lucifer said sternly. “Take the week off and come back refreshed. Your school responsibilities will be waived during your time off, now shoo.”

Lucifer waved his hand and strode past him down the hallway. Geez, what a charmer.

“Have fun, Paimon!” Himiko gave him a wave before gesturing Mammon to follow her, class was starting soon after all.

“Th-thank you Ms. Himiko.” Paimon mumbled and began to turn to leave, but Mammon caught the back of his school coat. Huh, a goodbye locker shove perhaps?

“Before ya leave,” Mammon cooed. “What’re ya doin’ with my human?”

“I’m not doing… anything?” Paimon said truthfully.

“Plannin’ on doing anything?”

“N-no?”

“Are ya sure?” Mammon tilted his head, his eyes began to glow dangerously. “Not planning on trying anything?”

“No sir!” Paimon began to wave his hands in an attempt to communicate some extra ‘NO’. “N-not at all! Ms. Himiko’s just a friend!”

Mammon raised an eyebrow and Paimon felt his stomach drop right to the floor. Apparently talking to the human exchange student was a death sentence. Wasn’t the point of this exchange program for demons and humans to get to know each other???

“Really now? How’d you two get to talkin’?”

“I-I uh, she um…” Paimon stuttered. “She swore me to secrecy…”

After blinking a few times in surprise, Mammon dropped Paimon right to the floor. “Alrighty then, I’ll just ask ‘er myself.”

Mammon then sauntered away like nothing happened. Geez… Paimon silently made a wish that Himiko could swallow her pride and actually admit the reason the two became friends so Paimon wouldn’t end up getting his ass handed to him by the Avatar of Greed himself. What a shit way to go…

————

Himiko gave Mammon a glare that could wither roses the moment he began to pepper her with questions about her friendship with Paimon. Geez, couldn’t a lady have some friends who didn’t want to date her? Was that too much to ask?

She let out a sigh and looked around to make sure that she and Mammon were alone in her room and that there was no one walking around in the hallway outside. Good, nobody. “Mammon, Paimon and I exchange gardening tips.”

Mammon blinked a few times and debated pinching himself to see if he was dreaming. His mean little human liked something like gardening..? That was… that was… so fuckin’ adorable! “You… you like gardening..? Really Himi?”

Himiko’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment, which really hindered the effect of her scowl. “Yes. In case you didn’t know, the plants here are very different from the plants in the human world, and I miss having a garden, so,” she gestured to the window out into the HOL’s garden where Mammon noticed quite a few new flower bushes. He had to admit, they were really pretty.

“Oh, so you two aren’t smoochin’ or anything?”

“Mammon,” Himiko smirked and fluttered her eyelashes. “Just because you’re hopelessly in love with me doesn’t mean everyone else is~.”

————

The moment Paimon stepped foot into his apartment he collapsed onto the couch like a… like a… tired person. The man hadn’t had a proper staycation in almost a thousand years, give him a break.

When he was done being a lump on the couch, he looked up at his plants. He hadn’t properly been able to look at them for a while- shit almost all of them were dead. Perhaps Paimon should have invested in a nice garden of cacti instead of fussy water-needing plants. Oh well, he had things to worry about other than his failing garden. His apartment was also a complete mess. After defeating his chronic anxiety by going on a massive cleaning spree, Paimon decided that he had a hankering for some sweets. He ordered in from Madame Scream’s and collapsed back onto the couch.

His pastries arrived and he was fully prepared to dig in until- A knock on the door startled Paimon from his stress free thoughts and the demon rushed to answer the door. The familiar faces of Mephistopheles and Satan awaited him.

“Hey buddy!” Mephisto gave Paimon a friendly (and a little too hard) thwack on the shoulder and walked into the apartment. “I smell foooooooood!”

“Paimon,” Satan flashed a grin and a friendly nod.

“L-lord Satan,” Paimon nodded dumbly, after registering what he was seeing, he stepped aside and let Satan into the apartment, thank fuck he had cleaned it. “What are… what are you doing here? Do you need me to do anything?”

“No, no,” Satan waved Paimon off. “I heard you and Mephisto were trying to solve a mystery and I thought I’d offer my help.”

“Oh! Thank you!” Paimon sputtered, he then turned to his pie, that Mephisto was busily shovelling into his mouth. Mephistopheles gave Paimon and Satan a thumbs up.

“S’great Pai!” Mephisto laughed at his own pun.

The mystery Satan was referring to was the mystery of the vandalized instruments. Paimon had asked Mephisto to help look into it, he was the former president of the newspaper club and had a penchant for getting into trouble and finding people responsible for trouble. It was a last resort kind of thing, really, Mephisto and Paimon never really spoke outside of their few shared classes.

“O-okay, did you guys find anything out..? Do you need me to answer any questions?” Paimon asked, sitting down at his tiny dining table across from Mephisto and Satan.

“We didn’t find much out today, suspect, but we do have some things we’d like to know.” Mephisto pointed a pie-filling covered finger at Paimon. “How do we know it wasn’t you who vandalized the instruments?! I can see the headline now! ‘Band president vandalizes instruments, Mephistopheles hailed as hero and reinstated as newspaper club president!’ I love it!”

“E-eh?!” Paimon jumped backwards in his seat, nearly knocking himself right onto the floor. “Wh-what?! Why would I do that?”

“That’s what I wanna know!” Mephisto slammed his sticky hands down on the table and leaned across to look Paimon right in the face. “Why’d you do it?!”

Satan grabbed the back of Mephisto’s shirt and yanked him back into his seat and gave Paimon an apologetic look. Ah, good cop bad cop, that was the game they were playing.

“Paimon, do you have an alibi?” Satan asked, his tone measured. Paimon meekly nodded.

“Y-yes, technically my alibi is you and your brothers, sir… I was busy all day, and that morning was the last time I saw the instruments before they were wrecked.”

“Mmm, just as I thought,” Satan nodded. “Paimon, does the band have any enemies you know of?”

“N-no,” Paimon said on reflex. “Wait! Yeah… um… a few demons… I have a list…”

He quickly began to write out a list of names. For someone who seemed so meek and pathetic, he had made a lot of enemies… well, less a list of enemies and more of a list of people who found it fun to bother him.

Satan raised an eyebrow as he looked over the list. “Paimon, how?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“How does a high ranking demon like yourself have this many petty enemies that you haven’t dealt with yet?”

A shrug was all Paimon could give. He preferred not to hurt people due to petty grudges, which was not a very good trait for a demon to have. No wonder no one respected him…

Satan huffed and nodded to Mephisto. “Well, we’ll look into these leads. Try and have a nice week off, Paimon.”

—————

Day One:

Lucifer needed his coffee, he sat up in his chair and leaned over to look at the clock, 3:30 pm. Paimon should be- ah, right, Lucifer gave him the week off. No matter, he rose from his seat and prepared to get his own coffee. He was a strong independent demon who didn’t need an assistant thank you very much.

When he walked into the kitchen, he nearly choked on air when he saw the technological monstrosity that was the new coffee machine. It had to be new, he had gone into the kitchen all the time to make his own coffee, hadn’t he? No, Paimon had taken care of that for the past how many years..? Geez, when was the last time Lucifer actually had to walk into RAD’s kitchen?

It’s just a coffee machine, Lucifer reasoned, he’d be able to figure it out in no time.

Riddle him this, why did this infernal thing have so many buttons?! The machine let out an unhappy groan and Lucifer was tempted to repeat the sound himself. Stupid coffee machine… back in his day coffee was made with magic, sure it exhausted the person more but… that’s what the coffee’s for!

After about twenty minutes of nearly fruitless labour, Lucifer finally figured out how to get the machine to make coffee to his tastes. He’d throw the machine at the wall if it made him decaf…

Lucifer (eventually) returned to his office and his massive stack of paperwork with his hot mug of caffeinated salvation and sat back down at his desk. His mind began to wander back to the conversation he had with Himiko the day prior.

Had he forgotten basic courtesy? He had known Paimon longer than Himiko could probably comprehend, was Paimon always this willing to get walked over? Lucifer wracked his brain trying to find the answer. He grimaced when he thought back to his time as an angel, but even then, Paimon was the same. A constantly frazzled Dominion who fell from heaven only to end up a frazzled and even more anxious demon.

It was so odd, when they all first became demons, Paimon was one of the large amount who decided that the best way to figure out their new demonic identities was to cause complete and utter chaos. It was an embarrassment, really, but Diavolo knew that no one could get that number of newly turned demons under control without ripping apart the Devildom, so he sent them up to the human world. It was devastating for the humans, but Diavolo knew it was necessary to save his kingdom. While up in the human world, everyone’s powers were tested and the pecking order if you will, was established. Paimon was right near the top.

One of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, one that watched kingdoms burn for his amusement just mere days after falling from grace, had become nothing more than an assistant. When and why? That was what Lucifer was wondering.

Tsk, he didn’t have time to wonder about the motivations of his little fake assistant, he had way too much work to do. He downed his coffee and stared down his paperwork. He was going to do this himself, or collapse from exhaustion trying.

——————

Day 2:

Mammon mindlessly gnawed on his pencil as he stared down at his homework. He was stuck in the library at RAD and couldn’t go home until his stupid work was done. His human had gone off with Asmo to go shopping… dummy… not that he cared or anything…

He needed help, but the great Mammon didn’t grovel! Wait, yes he did. But he usually didn’t have to when it came to his homework. That little nerd Paimon was always down to let Mammon copy his homework. Sure, if Lucifer even dared to ask if Paimon had let Mammon copy his homework, the purple haired demon would sing like a canary. Stupid little snitch….

…Mammon could have really used that little snitch right then…

He searched his mind for anything to daydream about to distract himself from the lame homework. Ah! His human! He liked to think about his human. Her cute little smile… her deep dark eyes… her soft hair that tumbled over her shoulders… her dumb but still somehow cute little headband…

Not that he liked her or anything! Uggggghhhh… this was going to be a long ass study session…

——————

How did things get this way..?

Paimon was once again lying face down on his couch, apparently cleaning only temporarily staved off his mental illness. At least he was spiralling in a clean house…

His concert hall got completely wrecked and his status wasn’t a deterrent to the stupid vandals… Paimon could and had crushed kingdoms beneath his heel! He’d sown discord across entire countries! Humans and demons alike begged to have the privilege of his favour, and now, nothing. Paimon hugged his knees to his chest and tried to ignore the feeling of his glasses digging into the side of his face. The tightness in his chest and gut was indicative of one thing:

Guilt.

Paimon was guilty. After being called back to the Devildom and seeing what he had done to the human world, he felt the worst most roiling and disgusting sense of guilt. He was completely alone, if any other demon that went up there and did the things he did felt guilty about any of it, they were amazing at hiding it. He had been an angel just a few days before he went completely ballistic…

Was his behaviour for the past thousand years some sort of bullshit atonement for him? Tsk, he didn’t have time to give himself a therapy session. He needed to go to sleep. He earned it, after all.

——————

Day 3:

Levi absentmindedly tapped his phone screen, the colourful gacha game was completely failing to fully entrap his attention. Ugh… just get the daily rewards and log out…

A crowd of chattering students walked into the formerly empty classroom to sit and eat lunch. Stupid normies… whenever he had to show up to school he at least had the ability to eat lunch by himself.

It was Paimon’s doing, obviously. After hearing that Levi was having a tough time being at RAD, the demon took it upon himself to make Levi more comfortable. After the first few times, Levi enlisted him as his personal crowd disperser.

He often wandered the halls during lunch making sure everything was alright like the world’s most anxious hall monitor. Whenever Levi happened to notice the sound of Paimon’s feet pattering against the stone floor, it was usually followed by Paimon’s meek little voice telling some wandering students that the classroom was occupied.

Tsk, dumb normie on his dumb vacation. Levi huffed and slid his headphones on to drown out the sound of the other students talking.

Paimon needed to hurry up and get baaaaaaaaaaack…

—————

Day Four:

“Alright, the scene of the crime…” Satan placed his hands on his hips and looked around the concert hall. The Avatar of Wrath had let Mephisto loose on Phenex and Eurynome for questioning. Satan now had the crime scene all to himself for investigating.

Most of the instruments were dented and ruined, hm… maybe he should have viewed the crime scene earlier when it was fresher. Man… all the fictional detectives Satan knew of would be so disappointed in him. Not perturbed, Satan began to peruse the room and take it all in. Well, until Asmo broke down the door shouting his name.

“Saaaaaaaataaaaaaaan!”

“I’m right here, Asmo, you don’t need to yell.” Satan turned and gave him an annoyed look. Asmo only beamed and clapped his hands together.

“No need to be so snide, Satan dear, I’m gracing you with my presence!” Asmo cartoonishly pouted as he almost skipped towards Satan. He looped his arm around Satan’s and began to try and pull him out of the room. “Come on! We’re going to have a self care day!”

“No, no we’re not.” Satan gently removed Asmo’s arm from his and shook his head. “I’m trying to solve a mystery, here.”

“Really?” Asmo raised an eyebrow and absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair with his finger. “Why? Isn’t this Paimon’s business?”

“Yeah, but Paimon asked Mephisto for help and Mephisto asked me, so here I am.” Seeing that Asmo wasn’t convinced, Satan dragged a hand down his face and prayed to the Demon King that his gossip of a brother could keep a secret. “There are no exams to study for, my favourite detective book series just ended, and Lucifer just rehomed a cat I took in. I have nothing else to do and I’m bored as hell.”

Asmo wrinkled his nose, then shrugged and nodded. “Eh, legit enough for me. I’ll help too!”

The two somewhat carefully rummaged around the room, searching for literally any kind of evidence that wasn’t destroyed in the fight between Phenex and Eury.

“Tada~ evidence!” So quickly? Satan had to stop himself from sighing as he turned to face his brother. Asmo proudly presented what looked like a neon orange fake nail, Satan crossed his arms and gave his brother a deadpan stare.

“Groundbreaking.”

“Satan, for a detective you can be really dense sometimes, I swear.” Asmo huffed and fixed his hair. “People who play musical instruments keep their nails short. Fake nails like these are expensive and are stuck onto the actual nail and sealed with magic. This obviously came off by accident, and it doesn’t belong to some band kid.”

“It belongs to the culprit then…” Satan murmured, digging through his pockets for his list of suspects. “Asmo, tell me, does anyone on this list have these kinds of nails?”

Asmo scanned the list of suspects and hummed to himself before snapping his fingers and grinning. “Only Amii would wear something as garish as that.”

Ah, one of RAD’s resident assholes. Amii and their partner in crime, Murmur, were frequent visitors to the detention hall due to their rampant idiocy. Their combined ability to learn absolutely nothing from their past punishments rivalled Mammon’s, and that was saying something because Mammon had gotten strung up at least once a month for the past two thousand years.

So, the little bastards had taken to bothering Paimon recently… perfect! Mystery solved!

Satan scratched his chin, then grinned. “I think we’ve found our culprits. Thanks Asmo, you were a real help.”

“It’s no problem Satan, really, you can repay me by keeping me company while we both have a nice spa day.”

————

Spending time rethinking one’s entire life and trying to cultivate a garden really sapped up Paimon’s energy. He wasn’t lying down on the couch this time though, his new breakdown spot was his kitchen table.

As he expressed to himself multiple times, he was sick and tired of being walked over, he may have hated being a demon, but he still was one. A damn high ranking one at that! He wasn’t some midranking Dominion anymore! He should be treated with basic respect!

The sudden ringing of his phone jolted him from his mini identity/respect crisis and he fumbled to pick it up.

“H-hello?”

“Paimon, you’ll be pleased to know that I have found the culprits.” Satan’s voice rang out from the phone and Paimon let out a sigh of relief. “Though, Amii and Murmur aren’t on school property at the moment.”

“Y-yeah…” Paimon was too emotionally drained to act surprised. “I think they’re on an overnight trip or something… they’ll be back on Monday.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I uh… I checked the budget documents you sent out at the start of the year to make sure no one was skimming funds again…” Paimon pursed his lips and sighed. “Remember what happened last year? I wanted to make sure Mammon didn’t cause you any extra trouble.”

“Ah, right.” Satan said. “Thanks for that.”

A genuine thank you! Paimon’s eyes practically sparkled as he nodded enthusiastically before realizing Satan couldn’t technically see him. “Y-you’re welcome!”

“So, I know it’s your club but this is also RAD property and I assume you know how much musical instruments are to replace…”

“Yeah… rest assured, I’ll deal with those two.” Paimon mumbled.

“Hm, I’d like to be there, if you don’t mind.”

You see, that was code for ‘I’m going to watch you to make sure you’re not just going to give them a lecture on not hurting other people’s feelings.’

“It’s no problem, Lord Satan.” Paimon said. “Come by if you have the time after school. I’ll put on a show.”

——————

Day Five:

Asmo was practically skipping through RAD’s hallways like he was following the yellow brick road or something. What had him so chipper? Some of his friends in the sewing club had agreed to help him sew some of his clothing designs and make them legitimately wearable! EEEEEEEE! He was so excited! He threw open the doors to the club and everyone… did not shower him with affection and praise. Pardon but what was this bullshit?

“Sorry Lord Asmodeus… but we’re in a bit of a crisis. Some of the sewing machines broke and we don’t have any way to replace them right now.” One of the club members said.

“How’d this even happen?!” Asmo huffed. “The sewing club never shuts down! There was a miniature hurricane going through RAD about a century ago and literally none of you skipped your club meeting!”

“W-well, normally we’d call Paimon to order some new machines or call a repairman because the student council usually gets really busy around this time of day…”

“UGH.” Asmo threw his head back and dramatically groaned. “Are there any machines in here that actually work?”

“Y-yes, about three of them…”

The demon pointed to three in the back and Asmo stomped over to begin sewing the one outfit he could do. He had bought nice fabrics and everything…

Asmo pulled out his sketch of the design, he smiled and set it down next to the sewing machine. He remembered how to use these… right?

‘Paimon usually fixes this’ ‘Paimon deserves a break’ ‘Paimon Paimon Paimon’ Asmo had to stop himself from openly rolling his eyes whenever that little pipsqueak’s name was mentioned. The Avatar of Lust had the stinking suspicion that the bespectacled demon wasn’t particularly fond of him. Everyone loved Asmo, that was a known fact, but Paimon had a funny way of showing it.

He never went exactly out of his way to help Asmo with anything. If Asmo requested help, it was always met with a cold ‘yes lord Asmodeus’. Hmph, Asmo had to hold back a bit of a smirk as a thought crept into his mind.

Paimon’s behaviour was truly a testament to how hard the Avatar of Lust is to get over~.

—————

Ready? Okay! The first step to becoming a respected demon was fixing the way he was perceived by others, and people mainly made their judgements on outward appearances.

Paimon was going to fix his self image! No more dorky glasses! Wait… he couldn’t see… damn. Okay, get contact lenses instead! Aaaaaaand he was out of those. New plan, the dorky glasses were staying on for the time being!

Hmmm… maybe he should flatten down his weird little crescent moon shaped Ahoge… Yeah, not going to happen. His hair kept flying right back up no matter how much hairspray he used.

Looking into his bathroom mirror, Paimon wondered how long it had been since he actually fussed over his appearance. 400… 500 years? Geez, that lined up awfully well with the last time he had been on a date… and that ‘relationship’ did not end well.

Oh well, he looked… well he looked like himself. That was fine. He just needed to fix his posture really quick-

The audible crack of Paimon’s spine may have scared his neighbour’s cat and caused the neighbour on his other side to wonder why their hellhound started barking, but at least he was standing up straight again. It was nice not to be slouched forward like the world’s most nervous Igor. Paimon stretched and shook out his shoulders. Huh, he forgot he was supposed to be 5’7 and not 5’5. He should have done this a while ago.

——————

The Weekend:

School was out for the next two days but the student council was still in the stupid building. Lord Diavolo had decided that the school year needed yet another festival week and it was up to the student council to budget, manage, and plan this entire thing, and to top off the sundae of stress, two of their members were missing.

Beel and Belphie were on the complete opposite side of the school, and their dear little human was having a hell of a time dragging them to the meeting. This was Himiko’s reward for not being an asshole.

“Beel, for the love of all things good in the world, I’m sure there will be snacks provided at the meeting, now get your face out of the fridge.” The long suffering Himiko practically begged. The attic nap club were stuck in the cafeteria despite the borderline desperate efforts of the human.

“You can’t know that for sure…” Beel sighed mournfully before he took another bite of whatever eldritch horror those demons called food. “Paimon or Barbatos would usually bring the snacks and neither of them are here…”

Foolishly hoping that the younger of the two twins would be able to do something, Himiko turned to Belphie, who was passed out with his head down on a cafeteria table.

“Belphie, wake up and help me get Beel out of the cafeteria.”

“No. I am asleep.”

“Belphie I swear-”

“Sh. Sleep.”

Beel usually carried Belphie’s unconscious ass to those stupid meetings because Beel knew for a fact there’d be snacks there, and now neither twin would move from the cafeteria. Great. Time to use the pacts Himiko worked so hard to obtain.

This. This was what it was like to be the one master to rule them all. It was glorified babysitting.

“BOTH OF YOU HAUL ASS TO THE ASSEMBLY HALL RIGHT NOW. BRING THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE WITH YOU.”

Monday couldn’t come soon enough…

——————

To be concluded!

Author’s Note: Not too satisfied with this one, but honestly when am I ever satisfied with my own writing? Pai will go politely apeshit next part I promise

TFW you’re royalty and the local brown-noser goes on vacation and you now have no one to boss around :/ totally relatable right guys?

[freddyfreeman]

I asked an AI to write a Marvel Family TV script again. Only this time, they’re evil…

INT. A DARK CAVE - DAY

The Marvel Family is gathered around a large table, plotting their next evil scheme.

CAPTAIN MARVEL: So, what's the plan for today, family?

MARY: I was thinking we could kidnap the President.

CAPTAIN MARVEL JR: Or we could steal all the money from the bank!

CAPTAIN MARVEL: I like the way you think, Junior. Let's do both!

MARY: But what about Mr. Tawky Tawny?

CAPTAIN MARVEL: We don't need him. He's just a nuisance.

MR. TAWKY TAWNY: Hey! I'm right here!

CAPTAIN MARVEL: Silence, Tawny! You're not part of the family anymore.

MR. TAWKY TAWNY: But I thought we were friends!

CAPTAIN MARVEL: We were never friends. You were always just a tool to be used.

MR. TAWKY TAWNY: I can't believe you! I thought you were different!

CAPTAIN MARVEL: You were always a fools, Tawny. Now get out of my sight before I kill you.

MR. TAWKY TAWNY: This isn't over, Marvel! I'll stop you!

CAPTAIN MARVEL: We'll see about that.

INT. A BANK - DAY

The Marvel Family is in the midst of robbing the bank.

CAPTAIN MARVEL: This is too easy!

MARY: I know! We're in and out before they even know what hit them!

Suddenly, the doors burst open and Mr. Tawky Tawny walks in, followed by the police.

MR. TAWKY TAWNY: Stop right there, criminals!

CAPTAIN MARVEL: Tawny, you traitor!

MR. TAWKY TAWNY: You're going to jail, Marvel. You're all going to jail!

CAPTAIN MARVEL JR: No! We were so close!

MARY: Junior, it's over. There's no escape this time.

CAPTAIN MARVEL: Tawny, you'll pay for this!

MR. TAWKY TAWNY: I don't think so, Marvel. You're the one who's going to pay. For the rest of your life.

The family is led away in handcuffs as Mr. Tawky Tawny watches, victorious.

[ratanslily]

Mom's Approval

pairing: ayna x f!mc

a/n: i was supposed to be writing something else -_- and i rewrote the scene of mc telling their mom about ayna. *sigh* guess that fic is going to take some time.

✿•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✿

heart thumping loud in her chest and her hand in Ayna's, Kennedy faced her mother, looking directly in the eye.

"Mom, Ayna and I.. we're dating. And i cant wait to tell the world about us."

The president looked at the two of them, carefully, and then their hands interwoven, as if bound by fate itself. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"A traitor.. really?"

Kennedy's blood boiled at the mention of the word. Her mom didn't know what she did, she could never understand what Ayna had gone through. She opened her mouth to retort when Ayna stopped her, using her other hand to calm her down. A simple gesture by her could calm Kennedy down in ways unknown to both of them. She took a deep breath and said,

"Mom, I know you dont.. trust my decisions, not after what I've done to your reputation, but hear me out.. I.. really like Ayna, and i loathe the idea of someone even calling her a traitor. She is not, she is just being the best daughter in the world."

"Kennie, you don't need to, its okay.."

"..but i need to, Ayna. a spot on your reputation gives me pain, and its unfair no one knows your side of the story."

"For the past year, Ayna has been working hard to get her dad, who's suffering from colon cancer, into a government program, but since they modelled it after rutherland, which may i add.."

She narrowed her eyes at her mom.

"... was never changed to suit the common folks by you. Caught up in a series of loopholes, she got fed up, and that's when she got the offer to keep a watch on me for money."

The president kept mum, just holding her gaze. Kennedy looked at Ayna, who nodded at her, giving her strength to go on.

"at that time, she was desperate to save her father, who's the only one she's got. Tell me, mom, if i were in the same situation, won't I choose you, the only family I've got, over others? if i were a person, with just a TA's wage, won't i give anything and everything, just to save you?"

That's when Mrs. Monroe broke down, unable to hold it back any longer. Kennedy stepped forward and embraced Mellissa Monroe, not President Monroe and not Candidate Monroe.. just her mom.

in midst of tears, she continued,

"Mom, for 22 years, I've been under a grip, under the guidelines telling me who should i like, what should i say and how should i behave. Ever since I arrived here, I realised, I don't.. I dont want to be the perfect First Daughter anymore.. I want to be.. me. I want to be a simple person, I want to be.. just Kennedy Monroe, free from expectations, free from what media thinks of her and free from every restrictions. I want to date who i like and speak what's on my mind. I just hope.. I just hope you're willing to let me try."

The air grew dense as Kennedy waited, patiently in her mom's embrace, for answer, or rather a permission for hee to live life her own way. She felt warm hands rubbing her back soothingly, which made her nostalgic of the days her mom used to comfort her when she used to cry, as a kid. She never knew how much she missed the feeling until now.

as they broke the hug to look at each other, Mellisa beckoned Ayna to come forward, putting her hand in Kennedy's.

"I'm proud of you, my daughter for realising what you want. I know that things haven't been the best between us lately, and it would take a lifetime to make it upto you but, im willing to try, if you give me a chance.i want to be there for you. and for you both. It was difficult for me to consider this, but seeing the determination in her eyes, how could i say no?"

She smiled, gently kissing the top of Kennedy's forehead.

"Go forth, my daughter, live your life with no regrets. I'll be here, rooting for you and having your back."

Kennedy wiped her tears, and with Ayna by her side, stepped towards the paparazzi area, with nothing to hide.

"ready for this?"

"as i will ever be."

the lights flashed in their faces, with a dozen curious eyes watching them, inquisitively, but Kennedy had eyes only for Ayna. Seizing the moment, she met Ayna's lips, losing in the feel of being truthful to each other, the world be forgotten.

[wackygoofball]

Gifset: Jaime x Brienne - War Correspondent AU

Jaime Lannister, former commander of the so-called Kingsguard, a military special forces team assigned to the protection of the President of Westeros, would like to throw his TV out, if only to escape the news stories and second-hand reports covering his case on national television.

Little do they know…

He continues to be in the news for one reason: Jaime’s killing of former President Aerys Targaryen. And they do get that one part about the story right: Yes, he killed him, and no, Jaime doesn’t regret the execution. However, what they don’t know is, which is driving Jaime mad as he sits at home, seeing his case being distorted over and over depending on which news outlet is currently on, that he had good reason, that lives depended on it that he killed the president.

But all of that is in a confidential folder, hidden deep in the Red Keep’s archives for no one to ever find…

“Kingslayer” is the catchy nickname they framed for him, since President Aerys was part of the exclusive Kings’ and Queens’ Club, containing the most influential people of military, public relations, media, and arms trade, to name but few of the crowns handed out to the Kings and Queens of both Essos and Westeros.

However, suddenly, Jaime stops being in the news, which has the former soldier excited for only just a second as he has to learn that Aerys’s successor, Robert Baratheon, died in a “hunting accident.”

It’s the President’s death that sets forth a chain of events that has the Kings and Queens fight for dominance in a country that has been weakened by both Aerys’s mad politics and Robert’s wasteful policy, which throws the whole country into a turmoil.

It isn’t long until turmoil turns into battles, which ebb into rebellions within the states of Westeros, and far sooner than later, the War of the Five Kings is sweeping across the country.

Jaime grows increasingly irritated by news coverage on the War of the Five Kings, which is much more concerned with who will turn out victor in this folly than it is with pointing to the human rights violations happening thanks to the Kings and Queens fighting for dominance – by having others fight those battles for them, of course.

What has Jaime jump into action is when he hears about wildfire bombs being used time and time again, because that is the one thing he sacrificed his honor as a soldier and reputation for when he executed Aerys.

Having studied journalism as a slight against his father during his younger, rebellious years, Jaime decides to use that slight for good and become a war correspondent, to get the information out there that he finds lacking in the current media battle over who is going to be the next King or Queen.

Against the odds of his hurt reputation, Jaime manages to become somewhat well-received by the public in a short amount of time, because his willingness to take the risk to head right into the war zones seems to earn him at least a begrudging respect for what he does.

However, beside wanting to get the truth out there to the people, Jaime wants to do more than just report about what is wrong in the country at war. He wants to take action: Jaime hopes that by heading right into the war zones, talking to the people who directly have to do with the wildfire bombs that are sporadically used – for now anyway – he can get information on the officials who pull the threads.

The former soldier managed to prevent a city from going up in green flames once, and Jaime is determined to repeat that finest act of his, even it may cost him his life, a sacrifice he is ready to make if need be.

However, while Jaime is fairly popular with the public, he is not favored by the people of his profession, not just by other reporters and correspondents, but rather the people he is meant to work with. His risk-taking is not well-received particularly by his cameramen, who, naturally, don’t always want to lose their lives for that reckless fellow of a war correspondent wanting to push the boundaries. Thus, Jaime finds himself unable to find himself cameramen to come with him to the most dangerous spots in the country to do his reports with.

While at a press conference in the Riverlands, Jaime tries to recruit a cameraman, but without much luck. Yet, after he is already on the verge of giving up on the endeavor, he is approached by tall-standing camerawoman Brienne of Tarth. While Jaime jokes at first that he is not looking for “a lady’s honor to defend in the midst of a war zone,” he is surprised to learn that Ms. Tarth is specifically interested in working with him.

“You go to where I need my camera to be – but where most war correspondents are too afraid to go,” she tells him. “And you can trust me on that one thing, Mr. Lannister: I need no protection, even less so from the likes of you. I have knocked men into the dust long before the war began. If at all, I am pretty sure I am going to keep your ass safe when we are out there, filming.”

“When we are out there?” Jaime laughs, amused. “You make it sound like this is set into stone already, Ms. Tarth.”

“Well, Mr. Lannister, look at it like this: Who else is going to hold the camera for you? Last time I checked, you failed miserably at recruiting a cameraman for your cause. Your choice.”

“I suppose we don’t get to choose who we work with at times, right?” he chuckles, holding out his hand to her. Brienne takes it. “Apparently not.”

And so, Jaime and Brienne have to start to form a news team, against the odds of their constant fighting, which is not really helpful while being in the midst of a war zone.

Brienne herself is less than pleased when stuck in the investigative work Jaime lets her know he is doing in search for the wildfire bombs, a she is confronted with having to play games with possible informants. Brienne doesn’t like the thought to have those traitors profit, but Jaime keeps telling her that this is the only way to obtain the information they need to get to the core of the story.

“You may have your goodwill and morals, wench, but those people? They don’t. If you want them to do something for you, you have to pay them. They are the dung flies sitting on top of the pile of shit we have to see removed. So, if that means I have to lure the flies away, I will do that so long it gets me to the shit that needs to be taken care of.”

However, Brienne is not the only one struggling to come to grips with the partner’s habits. Jaime, being a former soldier, wants to know the people on his team protected, but the woman almost gets herself killed time and time again as she heads right into the most dangerous situations, if only to get that one second of footage out there that she thinks is vital for the people to see. Furthermore, Brienne goes as far as to protect him even when Jaime really doesn’t want her to, which gets the wench into just those dangers he would like to see her keep away from.

After all, Jaime starts to care about his camerawoman deeply, a realization he rather keeps to himself for the time being, since their mission has precedence, of course.

The two continue their quest of both getting the truth of the War of the Five Kings out to the public, and finding the people responsible for the wildfire plot, as they gain more and more knowledge about the bombs Jaime thought had been dispatched after he killed Aerys were actually moved to different locations in King’s Landing, and are even used in the Battle of the Blackwater, with horrid consequences.

As the two grow closer against the odds of their reluctance, Jaime opens up to Brienne about the truth behind the wildfire plot, which he though he had stopped by killing Aerys, only now to come to realize that the people who kept all the information confidential played him. Brienne, too, finds someone to trust in in her team partner, so that she reveals her own motivations as well:

“I am after Stannis Baratheon. I want to get the truth out there about him.”

“What truth is that?” he asks.

“That he had his hands in his brother’s murder. That he and his red-haired political advisor burned people alive to take out those who opposed him in his claim to presidency. That he should be in jail instead of rallying troops to fight in a war that makes no sense.”

“Renly wanted that presidency, too.”

“And he was a fool for it. As I was a fool for it to having backed up his claim,” she sighs. “But that doesn’t justify what Stannis did. It’s one thing to fight dirty against a political enemy, another to murder your own brother.”

“They held you responsible for Renly’s murder for a time. I remember that from the news.”

Something that apparently connects them.

“Yes, because I couldn’t bring proof that he was assassinated by someone else. I didn’t see the person. I just saw the man’s shadow. I had no proof,” Brienne agrees.

“And so you decided to become a camerawoman to get the proof yourself.”

She nods her head. “The problem was that there was no one able to witness it other than me. And you can't get the truth out to people unless you make them witness it. With a camera, I can show them what I see, I can show them the truth that they cannot take part in because it doesn't take place in their homes, their cities. I can now make them bear witness to the truth. That's what I do, and that's what I will continue to do until this conspiracy is brought to light."

Following a clue they get from an informant concerning a planned coup d’état in Dorne, Jaime and Brienne travel to the Southern region at war, hidden away on a trade ship, since Dorne closed all borders following Oberyn Martell’s death, thanks to guide and smuggler Bronn, which puts them far too close at a time when they know they should keep their professional distance.

Jaime receives a harsh emotional blow as the coup d’état led by Ellaria Sand and the militant Sandsnakes Syndicate unfolds, and his niece Myrcella is murdered to cause further disarray between the Dornish and the provisional government, which is, behind closed doors, organized by the president’s widow and Jaime’s beyond-ambitious twin sister Cersei Lannister. He has to do his toughest job ever since becoming a war correspondent, forced to report on his niece’s murder, live, being one of the first to unveil the coup d’état and its victims.

In the aftermath of that news story, Jaime finds stability and support only in Brienne’s strong arms, as she reminds him that while he may feel like giving up, the work they do is worth it, and is perhaps their one way to honor those who fell victim to the political turmoil haunting the country and its people.

“Have you checked your mails lately? Thanks to you covering the news on those areas no one even goes to, people got helped, got away rom there. So yes, your work didn’t protect Myrcella, didn’t help you, but there are hundreds of people out there who are alive thanks to you, thanks to the truth you get out there. By not letting them be forgotten thanks to politics overshadowing all the rest.”

With their determination resolved to uncover the wildfire plot, so to prevent what would likely grow to be the most devastating bombing the country has ever seen, the two head back into investigative work, and along the way, find evidence of what Brienne wanted to prove for so very long: Namely Stannis’ involvement in his brother’s murder and the execution of those who opposed him.

Naturally, Brienne wants to go public with the information, but Jaime holds her back, reminding her that there is a bigger fish to catch than Stannis Baratheon now.

Brienne is mortified when Jaime tells her that they should not run the news story until they have all information, but the war correspondent tells her that if they get the people behind the wildfire plot, there might be a chance to save hundreds and thousands of lives – and get the people truly responsible for this horrible war over territories and power.

"If we get them, we might have a chance of putting out the fire."

"Wildfire, you mean," she scoffs.

“Yes,” he agrees sadly. “So? What do you say?”

“I say: Let’s get those bastards responsible to bring truth to light at last.”

“No less did I expect from you, Brienne.”

And so, the two embark on their most dangerous mission, heading right into the lion’s den, fully aware that this may be both their biggest and potentially last news story ever to broadcast on television, since it may well cost their lives…

[swordarkeereon]

Guest Post: A Kingdom's Fall #horror #newreleases #newfiction

Author Interview

What genre(s) do you write and why?

My work resides in the horror realm and all its subgenres. A gross-out gag, splatterpunk shock, or spine-tingling chill makes us remember we’re alive. And knowing my work makes some people’s genitalia retract into their innards gives me wood.

What was the most difficult part of writing your most recent book?

Finding time to write the third book in The Human-Undead War trilogy proved a chore. I had to decline offers for short story contributions, deny requests to beta read and edit fellow writers’ work, ignore submission calls, and limit my social media presence for about 8 months. With my wife back in school full-time and unpredictable daily work hours at my day job, I was lucky to scrape by with 30 minutes a day for writing. It drove me to the brink of madness!

What do you feel your books offer readers?

An intriguing escape from reality, and a fresh take on vampires. Anyone tired of pussy-ass, sparkly vamps ought to see merit in The Human-Undead War series. I’d love to think I’m revitalizing the genre like Brian Lumley did with his Necroscope series, but sales and exposure beg to differ. Some day, perhaps…

What was the first book you ever had published? How much time did it take from writing your first book to having it published?

The first book was Dark Intentions, Book 1 in The Human-Undead War Trilogy. From concept to publication, it took approximately 8 years. That included some snags in the publishing process (infamous “kerfuffles”) which set me back almost 2 years.

What other careers have you had?

I’ve been a paper boy, grocery bagger, a fast food cook/cashier, pot dealer, phone operator for a taxi company and multiple telemarketing gigs, gas station attendant, obsessive plasma donor, pizza delivery driver, warehouse laborer, and I’ve held management positions at multiple businesses, including my current employer.

Many won’t admit this, but pizza delivery can be quite lucrative. I miss that cash-in-hand every night, and the crazy fucks you meet along the way are great story fodder.

How would you describe yourself if you were “speed dating” your readers?

A chubby bald guy who’s rough around the edges, likes to tease and titillate, and has a dark sense of humor.

Where are you from?

♪In northeastern Iowa, born and raised,

On the farmland is where I spent most of my days…♪

Okay, I’ll stop now. The tune’s stuck in your noggin now, though, isn’t it?

What do you do for fun?

Fun? Sorry, I don’t understand this foreign word. Please translate.

Has your life changed significantly since becoming a published writer?

I think I’m poorer now than I was before I started writing for publication! However, my soul has been enriched. I’ve made tons of awesome, supportive writing-minded friends, a few fans, and a few bucks. It makes up for the constant business expenses (books on hand, business cards, advertisements, bookmarks, contests).

Otherwise, no, not much has changed. I’m still just an introvert peon working for The Man.

Do you work on one project at a time? Or do you multi-task?

I must stay focused on one thing at a time. Multi-tasking often results in more white hairs cropping up on my chin and me needing several Snickers bars to calm the fuck down.

What kind of kid were you? Which social path did you take?

In grade school, I was the fat kid who compensated with comedy, but I was a loner outside of school. I lived on a farm, and even with siblings, I could often be found roaming our land alone, talking to myself and acting out scenes in my head. I usually had my nose crammed into a book’s delicious-smelling spine as well. Once I hit middle school, my introvert side kicked into high gear. Since then, I’ve maintained a small group of core friends and tend to avoid large (or popular) groups of people.

Do you have any pets?

Two cats, Tubba and Target, and a wiener, Spot.

If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you travel?

I took a few years of Spanish in high school, and I loved everything about it. Spain seems like a gorgeous, culturally rich place to visit.

Please tell us 5 miscellaneous facts about yourself.

-I’m a huge advocate for literacy and will drop spare change every time I go to The Dollar General.

-I once popped what I thought was an Ecstasy pill only to discover it was a horse tranquilizer. Good times.

-Nothing turns me on more than a clean, spotless home.

-When I awoke in my cell after being arrested for drunk driving a decade ago, every county inmate hassled me for my extreme overnight snoring.

-I once masturbated 13 times in one day.

Please share with us your future projects and upcoming releases.

A Kingdom’s Fall, the conclusion to The Human-Undead War Trilogy, will be out later this year. I’ll also have a story in VS: Extreme, a charity anthology pitting US against UK horror writers. I was in the inaugural VS last year and took home some accolades, so I hope to defend my title in style this year. David Owain Hughes and I are also co-editing an anthology titled Fuck the Rules, and that should be out late this year or early 2018. It’s our way of throwing up the middle finger to rules while still exposing raw talent and crisp, finely tuned stories.

After that, I don’t know. Time to pursue my writing endeavors has been limited and will continue to be for several more years. I may disappear for a bit. But I’ll be back.

Please share any links you would like listed in the Interview. Website, blog, Facebook, Twitter, Patreon, Instagram etc.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/JondrashekAuthor

Twitter: @jondrashek

Website/Blog: www.jondrashek.com

Instagram: @jondrashek

BRIEF AUTHOR BIO:

Jonathan Edward Ondrashek loves to spew word vomit onto the masses. He’s had an array of poetry, reviews, articles, and interviews published in the past decade. His short stories have appeared in the anthologies Fifty Shades of Slay, Rejected for Content 4: Highway to Hell, Crossroads in the Dark II: Urban Legends, and the highly acclaimed VS: US vs UK Horror. The first two books in The Human-Undead War Trilogy, Dark Intentions and Patriarch, debuted in 2016, along with two co-edited horror anthologies: What Goes Around and Man Behind the Mask. If he isn’t working at his day job, reading, or writing, he’s probably drinking beer and making his wife regret marrying a lunatic. Feel free to stalk him on social media. He loves that shit.

A Kingdom’s Fall (The Human-Undead War Trilogy, Volume 3)

After staking his claim as the rightful Undead patriarch and returning to the United States, Barnaby has sent his followers on missions to eradicate humankind once and for all. He still plots to cast the world into darkness and reign supreme. But to ensure the Undead’s ascent to godhood, he will need to destroy the Human Army and confront his nemesis, Brian Koltz.

However, President Strajowskie understands the stakes involved, and he’s heading to the front line to go all out against Barnaby and his hordes.

Meanwhile, an insurgent army led by the former Undead general, Scott Hammers, approaches Haven. Brian and his people are prepared, but he discovers a traitor in their midst and dark deeds being done against his knowledge. Can he and Haven survive the ensuing battle without being torn apart from within?

As all sides vie for victory, a confrontation between Brian and Barnaby appears inevitable. And both now understand one kingdom must fall if the other is to survive.

BOOK EXCERPT:

“You’re a pilot?” the woman asked.

Lester blushed and ran a hand through his red curls. “Yeah.”

She stared at the center of her shoddy table. Candlelight flickered. Dark bags beneath her eyes devoured her high, protruding cheekbones. “Scar told us wasn’t none of them left,” she said with a slow honey-dipped drawl. “Said no one took to the skies anymore. That’s why he was sailing ‘cross water, before his ship wrecked.”

Lester almost snorted but held his derision in check. Barnaby sure did choose a lame nickname while he was here. He found it unnerving how the Vampirons revered such a devil. Then again, they didn’t know what he was.

Hell, even God doesn’t know what he is.

“Very few still exist,” Roterie said. He meandered away from the humble open-spaced kitchen and plopped onto the chair opposite Mrs. Deekins. He rested his hands behind his head and kicked his feet up. Dirt and sand sprinkled down from the soles of his shoes and cascaded across the table. “That’s why your husband was wise to follow Scar and find us.”

“Well, I can’t thank you enough for coming here and telling me how Zeke’s doing. Me and the kids’ve been worried sick.”

It shows, Lester thought. Mrs. Deekins was bone-thin, though canned goods and somewhat-fresh fruits lined the makeshift countertops inside the kitchen. Grime caked her skin in an oily sheen. Bloodshot, yellowed eyes protruded from their sockets, and her fake fangs jutted out below her upper lip. With thin, frayed hair sticking out at every angle atop her scalp, she looked like a buck-toothed, emaciated vampire hippie.

And the stench was horrendous. The quaint mud hut reeked of rotten eggs, spoiled milk, and decaying meat. Worse still was Mrs. Deekins herself. Even from the front doorway, he could smell the layers of sweat, shit, and piss emanating from her body in sickening droves.

That reminds me. It’s been a week or two since I took a bath, Lester thought, avoiding the urge to sniff his armpits and test his own scent.