[fic] crisis delayed
So this is inspired by the book Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. If you haven’t read it, then I am sorry, but you have not lived.
Title: crisis delayed
Rating: G
Media: fic
Pairing/Characters: Zoro, Sanji
Word Count: 300!
Prompt: Pact
They’d known each other for nearly a millennium now. They’d spent the majority of their existence on earth wishing each other dead (or, more accurately, inconveniently discorporated), but sometime around the dawn of the twentieth century and the Great War, they had finally come to a grudging agreement and ceasefire.
Because the petty, albeit explosive, rivalry between a green-haired demon and a chain-smoking angel paled in comparison to the mortal tragedy of crumbling empires and the sickeningly creative cruelty of the human race.
And while they were both technically working towards the same goal, it’s not as if either of them actually wanted to achieve it any time soon. Yes, the End of the World was all fine and dandy on paper, but it was another thing altogether to have it-happen. That’d result in a one-way ticket back home, and this was distressing for a number of reasons, chief among them being that they don’t let you take naps in Hell, and the food in Heaven is horrifyingly bland.
So on the night of 28 June 1914, they had made a pact of sorts, demon and angel in human guise, to help the other be outstandingly mediocre at his job. For every dozen souls that Zoro tempted over to the dark side with promises of power, Sanji would win another dozen back with sinfully successful church bake sales. (Contrary to popular belief, the dark side is not the side with the cookies, although they do have pretty passable lemon squares.)
And so on.
Nearly a century later, Zoro is sipping coffee in Café All Blue while a wicked thunderstorm rages outside.
“Think the world’s going to end today?” Zoro muses.
Sanji throws him a withering glare. “The Apocalypse can wait until after my soufflé is done, fuck you very much.”
Title: crisis delayed
Rating: G
Media: fic
Pairing/Characters: Zoro, Sanji
Word Count: 300!
Prompt: Pact
They’d known each other for nearly a millennium now. They’d spent the majority of their existence on earth wishing each other dead (or, more accurately, inconveniently discorporated), but sometime around the dawn of the twentieth century and the Great War, they had finally come to a grudging agreement and ceasefire.
Because the petty, albeit explosive, rivalry between a green-haired demon and a chain-smoking angel paled in comparison to the mortal tragedy of crumbling empires and the sickeningly creative cruelty of the human race.
And while they were both technically working towards the same goal, it’s not as if either of them actually wanted to achieve it any time soon. Yes, the End of the World was all fine and dandy on paper, but it was another thing altogether to have it-happen. That’d result in a one-way ticket back home, and this was distressing for a number of reasons, chief among them being that they don’t let you take naps in Hell, and the food in Heaven is horrifyingly bland.
So on the night of 28 June 1914, they had made a pact of sorts, demon and angel in human guise, to help the other be outstandingly mediocre at his job. For every dozen souls that Zoro tempted over to the dark side with promises of power, Sanji would win another dozen back with sinfully successful church bake sales. (Contrary to popular belief, the dark side is not the side with the cookies, although they do have pretty passable lemon squares.)
And so on.
Nearly a century later, Zoro is sipping coffee in Café All Blue while a wicked thunderstorm rages outside.
“Think the world’s going to end today?” Zoro muses.
Sanji throws him a withering glare. “The Apocalypse can wait until after my soufflé is done, fuck you very much.”