a series of sbi oneshots

not even 300

tommy is a godling and he has to watch graves one day wilbur shows up and it all goes down hill from there

or

Tommy's a godling and sbi felt the need to protect him

Look, Tommy knows that watching over the graveyards is kind of chump work.  Its only given to the lowest of Prime’s angels and its kind of the shittiest job in the whole of the Domain. 

But its his job and fuck it, someone’s gotta keep watch over the bodies of Prime’s faithful. It wouldn’t do for them to rise as undead and start wandering around willy nilly. That’s not the deal.

Humans get to rest after their lives are done, their bodies feed the earth and the cycle begins anew. They aren’t supposed to go for walks. 

So Tommy stands watch over a tiny graveyard in the middle of nowhere, his sword is kept sharp, his armor polished, his wings preened. He watches over a few human mourners who come to visit their dead, he spooks off a few zombies with his mere presence, and the dead rest undisturbed. 

Its boring. But its his job. Its his Duty and he’s going to kick ass at it. 

Endless days slip by. Years, decades, half a century, a full century, and Tommy keeps watch over his graveyard. He’s still terribly young for an angel. He probably won’t be moved off this duty for millenia. 

Its...really boring. 

Really boring. 

And kind of lonely. 

Hardly anyone visits the graves here now. Nobody new is buried here. Tommy isn’t really supposed to, but he tends to the graves. Keeps lichen and weeds from growing over them, keeps the rain from wearing away the names written on the stones. 

These are his charges, and he’ll keep watch over them. 

Tommy keeps watch, and the sun rises and sets, and the moon follows after it and nothing happens. 

And then Tommy blinks and there’s a demon in front of him. 

He blinks again. 

The demon is still there. 

He blinks one more time just to be sure. 

The demon is watching him back, his head tilted, his brown hair flopping into his eyes. 

He looks like a prick. 

Tommy figueres that demons should look like pricks, so that fits. 

He stands up straighter and puts his hand on his sword. He hasn’t drawn it in weeks, hasn’t used it since he was being trained up in Heaven. That doesn’t matter. 

“Back off,” he orders the demon. 

The demon tilts his head the other way, “I’m just standing here.” 

“You--” Tommy shuts his mouth. 

Technically the demon isn’t doing anything but--

“Well you can’t stand here. Go away.” 

“Its public property,” the demon says. 

“Is not,” Tommy argues. 

“Is too,” the demon replies, a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t see any signs.” 

“Well--that’s for humans,” Tommy says, “you’re a demon! You can’t come here.” 

“Is that so?” the demon asks.