“If My Human Dies, I’m Taking PTO.”
Even More Tired Celestials
Arias sat in the familiar circle of celestial exhaustion, sipping from his mug labeled "Divine Babysitter."
Tonight’s meeting had a few new faces.
The usuals were back—Gabriel, Ezekiel, Lucia—but some fresh recruits had arrived, looking even more traumatized.
One had singed feathers and a thousand-yard stare.
Another was holding a clipboard with "Mandatory Celestial HR Debrief" written on it.
Arias grinned. “Alright, everyone, welcome back to ‘Guardian Angels Anonymous.’”
The angels let out weary sighs.
“I see some new faces,” Arias continued. “Go ahead, introduce yourselves. Name, occupation, and the dumbest thing your human has done this week.”
A new angel, Cassiel, rubbed his temples. “I guard a human named Trevor. This week, Trevor decided to—” He exhaled deeply. “Fight a bear.”
Silence.
Lucia tilted her head. “Wait, was it, like… a metaphorical bear? A stuffed bear?”
Cassiel shook his head. “No. A real, living, fully grown bear. Because, and I quote, ‘I looked him in the eyes and I think we had a moment.’”
Ezekiel nearly fell out of his chair. “Did he die?!”
Cassiel sighed. “He would have, but I nudged the bear’s instincts just enough to make it lose interest. It swiped him once and wandered off.”
Gabriel grimaced. “That’s like divine paperwork for months.”
Cassiel nodded slowly.
Arias smirked. “Trevor wins the leaderboard for today.”
The angels muttered agreement.
Then a small, trembling hand went up.
A soft-spoken angel, Raziel, cleared their throat. “…I guard a toddler.”
Arias leaned forward, intrigued. “And?”
Raziel's wings twitched.
“My child ate a rock.”
Silence.
Lucia blinked. “Okay. That’s… that’s pretty normal for a toddler, right?”
Raziel shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. He didn’t just put it in his mouth. He committed.”
Arias’ eyebrows shot up. “He fully ate the rock?”
Raziel’s voice cracked. “I had to miracle it out of his stomach before his mom noticed!”
The angels gasped.
“Oh, that poor baby.”
“Oh, that poor you.”
Raziel nodded slowly. “I live in constant terror.”
Arias clapped his hands. “Alright, looks like we’re off to a great start.”
The angels groaned.
The HR Complaint Box (A.K.A. “Yell into the Void”)
Arias gestured to a large, glowing complaint box in the center of the room.
The label read: "Celestial HR Suggestion Box (That We All Know Heaven Ignores)."
“Alright,” Arias said. “I’m introducing a new exercise. It’s called ‘Scream Your Problems Into The Void.’”
Gabriel perked up. “Wait… we can do that?”
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Arias smirked. “Absolutely. The void doesn’t judge.”
Lucia cracked her knuckles. “Let me go first.”
She marched up, grabbed the glowing box, and took a deep breath.
“MY HUMAN THOUGHT THEY COULD OUTDRINK A DEMON.”
The angels winced.
A muffled voice echoed from inside the box:"…That was dumb."
Arias blinked. “…Did the void just agree with you?”
Lucia shrugged. “I feel validated.”
Gabriel snatched the box next.
“KEVIN JOINED A PYRAMID SCHEME.”
The void answered: "You should’ve let him fail."
Gabriel nodded solemnly. “I really should have.”
Cassiel stepped up. “Trevor and the bear. You already know.”
The void answered: "Trevor is dumb."
Cassiel sighed. “Thank you, void.”
Finally, Raziel took the box.
He held it for a long moment.
Then, with the voice of a soul on the edge, he whispered:
“Why… do they put EVERYTHING… in their MOUTH?”
Silence.
Then the void responded.
“…I don’t know.”
Raziel looked exhausted.
Arias patted his shoulder.
“Let’s move on.”
Angel Dodgeball (A.K.A. “Take Out Your Rage on Something”)
Arias snapped his fingers.
The room shifted into a celestial gym.
Angels stared.
“…Dodgeball?” Ezekiel asked.
Arias grinned. “Listen, if you’ve ever felt like drop-kicking your human, this is the closest thing you’re gonna get.”
Lucia picked up a ball immediately. “Let’s go.”
The angels divided into teams.
And then…
All hell broke loose.
Gabriel threw with divine wrath.
Lucia yeeted Ezekiel across the gym.
Cassiel caught a ball mid-air, mid-flip.
Raziel got hit and just lay on the floor.
Arias, laughing, called out: “Extra points if you yell their name while throwing!”
Gabriel launched a ball. “KEVIN!”
Lucia followed. “JESSICA!”
Cassiel went feral. “TREVOR, YOU ABSOLUTE DISASTER!”
Ezekiel screamed “ALL OF HUMANITY!” and knocked three people out at once.
Arias whistled. “Damn, Ezekiel. You good?”
Ezekiel panted. “No.”
Arias nodded. “Understandable.”
After dodgeball, the angels collapsed back into their seats.
Arias cleared his throat. “Okay. Lightning round. Who’s on fire this week?”
Lucia raised a hand. “My human set their kitchen on fire making toast.”
Gabriel sighed. “Kevin bought fireworks. That’s all I’ll say.”
Raziel whispered. “The toddler tried to eat a candle.”
Silence.
“…Did you stop him?” Arias asked.
Raziel closed his eyes. “I blinked, and it was already in his mouth.”
Ezekiel groaned. “I am so glad I don’t guard children.”
A hush fell over the group.
Then one angel, who hadn’t spoken all night, lifted a hand.
Arias tilted his head. “You good, man?”
The angel whispered, voice hoarse:
“Mine is an influencer.”
Gasps.
Horrified gasps.
Lucia clutched her chest. “You—you poor thing.”
Gabriel made a sign of divine protection.
Arias just whistled. “Alright. You win.”
The influencer’s guardian won the leaderboard.
The angels gathered their strength.
Gabriel exhaled. “Alright. I think I can handle Kevin… for another week.”
Lucia nodded. “Same.”
Cassiel muttered, “I’m gonna need to personally nerf Trevor’s survival instincts.”
Ezekiel sighed. “See you all next week?”
Arias smirked. “Oh, absolutely.”
As they vanished into the heavens, a single white feather drifted down beside Arias.
He picked it up, rolling it between his fingers.
“…I swear, if I do have a guardian angel, I owe them a drink.”
And with that, he walked off, already planning Meeting #3.
