#u.f.d.

[pissylittlebirdboy]

Would you be willing to help me with something?

Ulysses was sat in the middle of his newly upgraded hole-in-the-wall, staring pointedly and almost afraid at an array of very oxidized apple slices that were… sitting on the floor. He didn’t have plates. Dust was collecting around him and the slices. He’d clearly been at it for a while.

There was a decent delay between the hearing of the words, the processing of them, and the breaking of prolonged unblinking eye contact from his greatest enemy: food. He looked at the King, processed her presence with all the energy of a small crusty white dog, and seemingly didn’t freak out.

A few seconds passed.

…

AAGH!

He jumped back, feathers puffed up and tail unfurled. As he did, some part of his gangly silhouette caught on something and he somehow tripped backwards while sitting. Combining that with the head rush and dizziness that comes with malnutrition, it meant he hit his head on an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, let out a strangled squawk, and fell backwards into the wall, where he hit his head again. He put a hand to his head, squinting in pain as he sat in his jumbled, fallen pile.

Ow…

[ask-eric-the-disposable-demon]

if you want an enemy that bad, I pick fights with just about anybody. I guess I’ll be insulting you too.

the name’s Ulysses Finnian Dowell. Don’t forget it, you worthless scrape of rotten tissue.

-🦚

Yo, I have an enemy now! Awesome!

See, Crowley is clearly the coolest demon, and he has an enemy, and I want to be cool like Crowley is, so obviously I need an enemy, and now I have one!

This is awesome, thanks, dude! Um, Ulysses Finnian Dowell is kind of a mouthful though. How about a nickname? I'm thinking...Ufda. Y'know, like your initials: U, F, D, and then an "a" at the end to kinda tie it all together!

[pissylittlebirdboy]

*The fly starts to make a move, but then - ! A great burst of light appears. It glows with warm, golden rays, and emits a calming sort of energy.

And then it began to speak with the King's voice.*

I have already told you once to leave him alone.

*The fly seems...frightened? Scared? Called out? It very quickly gets off of Ulysses' nose.*

Now I don't know why you're acting up, but I do know that if you don't leave right now, I will find a way to make sure you never lay your legs on even a crumb of a doughnut ever again.

And if you even think of dragging your Lord into all this and making it worse, I will come Down There myself and sort you all out on my own. Do I make myself clear?

*The fly nods - somehow - and vanishes with it's own little puff of smoke. The glowing light goes silent for a moment, but does not fade.*

Ulysses didn’t move, didn’t blink. He barely even breathed—just little breaths puffing in and out of him. The startle from the appearance of the light left him pressed further into the corner, staring off into space with wide eyes.

The fly was gone. It was gone. Dismissed by the King herself. He was safe.

He clutched the hilts of his swords till his hands shook.

He slid down the wall, ending up on the floor where he became something of a sphere given his knees fucked go his chest and his general attempts to make himself smaller. To hold himself. Soft calls, quieter versions of his standard variety, emerged from his tangle of limbs as his body shook with tension and tears. Every day was another nightmare. It was unending He couldn’t-

I can’t keep- hic going like this—oh, I can’t… I can’t!

He dropped the hilts to his swords, hearing them clatter to the floor as his cries crescendoed. What a shame this was all his fault.

[pissylittlebirdboy]

spare list

helping me screw with scaled fucker (@landertheliondemon)

fish person thing (they spilled the tea to me) (@fishyfiles)

collector of weird human dolls with children inside and lord of… ribs? hot dogs? I don’t know, I find you interesting. friend..? (@angelo-rib-shack)

liked my posts and has a oddly contradictory name (@savourybiscoff)

they offered to make me a sword. I am honored. (@god-in-the-basement)

not worth killing. puts the I in idiot. (@ilovelovebooks)

[pissylittlebirdboy]

list of ENEMIES (in order of most wanted dead)

set my damn colleague on fire. fucker. (the--real--god)

floating fucking head who capitalizes off of religious trauma and puts glorious lovely angels in bad places because he’s a twat (@the-metatron)

God (@the-almighty-god)

tried to fuck with my kids and broke my knee (@the-real-michael-demiurgos)

Marquis Leraje

the Marquis’ dumb hot assassin

snake fucker with the stupid glasses (@thedemon-crowley)

no no no please lord save me

angel fucker who talked back to me (@janeway-lover)

stupid old car that only plays one artist (@imthebentley)

fucking pauper who keeps stealing my stuff to make me mad (@youroneandonlysnakelady)

ray of sunshine with hair-bunny ears (why is that a trend in hell?) (@ask-eric-the-disposable-demon)

ugly as fuck crusty-white-dog hair so bad that the holy water should’ve defied the laws of physics to obliterate it from existence (@duke-hastur)

broader enemies

flies and anything in the family muscidae

homophobes

donald trump

croc-wearers

pinapple pizza enjoyers

people who cause inflation

child abusers

annoying motherfuckers

demon owl princes who cheat on their lovely wives with ugly fire toads

[pissylittlebirdboy]

they appear. Even if you don't see them at first it's quite obvious, as with them a strong sound of buzzing appears as well. They seem in a good mood, which probably isn't good seeing as they're holding one of Ulysses' feathers, freshly blinded.

Hello there.

he nearly jumps out of his skin his tail shoots open, it’s eyes darting around frantic. his back is turned to the demon. maybe it’s just another figment of his imagination?

he looked through one of the eyes on his tail.

fuck.

he turned around slowly, wincing as he did. his knee was still broken, after all, even though it hid under the baggy clothes he would’ve once scoffed at and allotted to be only for low class peasants. he forced himself to take a deep breath and smooth out his very much ruffled feathers. his main eyes, freshly with bags, assessed the situation. he finally caught sight of the feather.

his head crest flattened against his head as the unmistakable look of both a child who knew they’d done something and must now face consequence and, if one squinted, pure, A-grade terror.

f u c k.

he took another shaky big breath and tried to scrape together some semblance of composure.

…hey.

//kfp2 reference omg!!!!!!

[pissylittlebirdboy]

Hello Ulysseus….

Like I heard you are home again…

my name isn’t Roman. It’s just Ulysses.

yes, Ellie?

[pissylittlebirdboy]

And don't think I forgot. Unluckily for you, I never forget.

believe me, I know. thanks for the fly swarm nightmares for the past few weeks, though. really loving the five hours of sleep a week in addition to the broken knee. thanks to mikey for that one.

I need to go destroy things. fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUC