#. traveled... met a pirate captain and fell in love w/ her and became a pirate as well...

[artist-rat]

my old and new tes character Saima <3 she’s a combination of a couple of my prev. ocs!

[bitchimasnake-sss]

anon asked angst w/ zoro // where zoro time-travels to the future and finds out his s/o is dead X(

✿a swordsman at his worst ft. roronoa zoro!

roronoa zoro, aged seventeen, was a godless man.

he had no home, he had no comfort, he had no safe-space. just hunger and a wicked dream.

roronoa zoro, aged nineteen had one god.

because through some fate or other, he met the crew and his life started... shifting. no longer lonely, or homeless, or uncared for, now, roronoa zoro had one god — his captain.

whatever the strawhat said, the swordsman followed. if the strawhat fell to certain death, the swordsman would follow. if the strawhat rose to godhood, the swordsman would follow through at his eternal devotee. the strawhat led, the swordman followed.

that was it. it was sorted. the man had one god. singular.

and then, roronoa zoro, aged twenty-one had two gods.

through another fucked-up game of fate or something, he met you... and his world started shifting again.

somehow his mornings revolved around how soon he could see you, his trainings became more about flexing at the right time as you passed him, his rivalry with the cook became a tad bit more serious cause goddamn, he won't let that shit-cook take you!

and then somehow, you became more than a crew-member. you became his girlfriend, you became his home, his best-friend, his god.

roronoa zoro, aged twenty-three had zero gods because what-the-fuck, he just got transported into the future somehow?!

"this is insane."

nami clicked her tongue, "you tell me."

"listen," the swordsman hissed, drawing his hulking figure forward on the very wooden table nami had caged him in, "i am roronoa zoro."

"we can tell," the blonde love-cook took a slow drag of his cig, taking his time blowing out the smoke, "nobody else can be this annoying."

"time hasn't changed you at all, has it?" zoro grit his teeth, almost drawing out his swords at the mere hint of a challenge.

the older sanji leaned forward, amused, "i know you think you're all that but you're a kid."

"oi," nami grumbled, flicking sanji on the forehead with one practiced, manicured flick of her finger, "settle it, you're a forty year old man."

"fine." the cook hummed, backing off solely because the older navigator had asked him too.

after what felt like hours upon hours of gruesome interrogation, the younger swordsman was finally allowed to let out of that wooden office where nami kept her charts and maps.

the ship outside was huge, and with each step that the younger man took forward, he grew more and more confused.

elbowing sanji in the ribs, the man hissed, "this is our ship, right?"

"yeah," the cook dusted himself where the swordsman had touched him, "obviously."

"so... are we like—y'know, the best pirates or something?"

"you talk like a kid—"

"—fuck you."

and no sooner was roronoa zoro presented to the rest of the crew as if he were an animal at the zoo. they all asked him questions; luffy tried psyching him twice only for it to not work out, ussop asked questions about the past like it were trivia. truly, the only bearable people were chopper, robin, frankie, and of course, his older self — who was eerily silent, even for his own self.

except, you were nowhere to be found.

even after the dinner had been served and sake had been passed around in the younger swordsman honor, he was in no better shape.

his jittery gaze kept scanning the place, his hands were growing clammy, and in his mind he was entertaining the worst possibilities of what may have happened to you.

of course, he rationalized, these were just possibilities. you were alive and well, he was always going to make sure of it, right? righ—

"—we should talk." a sturdy hand came to rest on the young man's shoulders, easing his tense muscles.

zoro glanced over his shoulder, looking at the man who looked so much like him that it was unnerving. what was even more unnerving was the fact that the twenty-three year old knew they had to talk and it was gnawing on his insides.

"yeah," he answered back despite his reservations, "we do."

wordlessly, the older man led the younger away from the crowd. taking careful steps one after the other, the younger man followed down intricate, wooden hallways that eventually opened to a gate to a room at the very end.

it was adorned in a cutesy looking nameplate, with the words, "Mr. and Mrs. Roronoa."

wh- MR AND MRS?! DID HE GET MARRIE—

"—no." the older man mumbled, as if able to read the younger one's thoughts, "not married. she just thought this was funny."

"right..." the other zoro tried to ignore the nasty pang! in his chest at the fact that you two weren't married. well, you both could do it eventually, he supposed. you two have enough time.

the door was swung wide open by the aged swordsman, and the younger one followed suit without really thinking about it.

the room was yours (and his), undeniably. there were photos on the wall, plastered on with resembling stickers — the creativity too much to be zoro's sub-par arts and crafts. the room smelled like you too, something a bit citrusy and floral — the right mix of sugar and spice.

"you can ask me whatever." the older man hummed from where he stood near the door. talking barely a step in, he continued, "i don't believe in that scientific mumbo-jumbo that... that i can change the trajectory of my life by telling you about the future, anyways."

but the younger man was pre-occupied. craning his neck to take in every crook and nary, he could find traces of you in every little trinket adoring this tiny room.

he could see your things, smell your scent, feel your presence and still not see you.

there were so many questions in the younger swordman's mind, and yet he chose the easiest one.

"are we the strongest now?"

the younger man turned to face the older one, and his answer came in the form of one swift nod.

"we defeated mihawk?"

another nod.

"does it feel goo— are you happy?"

a hesitant nod, that soon mutated into a timid shake of 'no.'

"why?"

the older man pursed his lips. his face was aged, wayward wrinkles at the edge of his tired eyes and near his lips. despite being in his forties, somehow he looked older, drained.

"don't stall." the older man finally replied, "ask what you really want to ask. i'll tell you honestly."

"where is she?"

and despite being the one who had asked not to stall, the older man couldn't conjure up a quick reply. he cleared his throat, keeping a safe hand on the hilt of his three swords before meeting the innocent face from his past, "she's gone."

she's gone?

"go-gone? gone where?" the younger man took a step forward, then another, "what do you m-what?!"

despite having the knowledge that the man in his forties only had to lift a finger to kill the younger zoro, the mosshead grabbed his aged version by the collar.

gritting his teeth, with bloodshot eyes and shaken limbs, he asked again, "what do you mean? did we... break-up?"

"no."

and instead of bringing relief, the answer only made the abyss in zoro's chest grow deeper, bigger, hungrier. his voice wavered, eyes drawing up water with every ragged breath, "then?"

"she's dead."

the younger man grabbed the collar tighter, and the fabric under his grasp tore at the sewn edges. when he spoke, he seemed more beast than human, "what the fuck do you mean by she's dead, huh?"

"she... what do you want me to sa—"

but the younger man was tethering on the line between sanity and none. the blood rushing past his ears made him sick, the thumping of his heart against the constraints of his ribs felt annoying, and each slow drag of air felt like a pointless run-away from death.

how could you just be... gone?

no. no. he refused to believe it.

"i thought you said..." the younger zoro heaved, "you said you were the strongest— how c-could you be if she's fucking dead? if you couldn't even save her?"

the twenty-three year old clicked open his sword, ready to unearth the deadly weapon to fight his own self, "answer me."

the man that stood before him, the man whose aged face showed nothing — no remorse or remembrance — just answered back monotonously, "i couldn't have saved her. if I could have," the younger man picked up on the slightest of tick building up in the older man's jaw, "i would have."

the silence that grew between them before the younger man felt the earth beneath him sway. the wood seemed to crack, the rips pulling the swordman in to call upon his untimely death.

and then, as his knees hit the hard ground all that he saw was blurred by tears. a strained breath, then another, and another and then, zoro felt like he could no longer breathe at all.

"hey, kid?" the older man bent down, not quite meeting the innocent boy's face but trying to look at him, "I'm sorry."

"h.." zoro felt his voice shake, "how did... she—"

"illness."

the younger, bloodshot eyes shot up to meet the aged ones. he repeated, dumbfounded, "illness..?"

the older zoro repeated, "if i could have saved her, i would have."

"but you couldn't." the younger one found himself finishing the sentence.

"i... yeah."

and roronoa zoro knew he was no saint when it came to words. his tongue was as sharp as his three blades, so, why would he not yield that weapon?

"does saying that... does it make you feel better about yourself?"

the aged man paused, staring for a moment too long before uttering, "what?"

the laugh that left the twenty-three year old was barely a laugh, a mocking jab, a cry rattled with grief, "does saying that you couldn't save her make it fucking better?"

the younger man barely paused, immediately breaking out in another cruel remark, "because it shouldn't. you lost her. you fucking los—"

"that's enough."

the older man shot up in one swift move, leaving the younger man alone in his room. and as zoro sat crumpled on the floor, the walls of the room seemed to cave in. everywhere, he saw you, he felt you but you weren't there.

you weren't.

he's not sure how long he sat there, not sure how long the sordid tears clung onto his bottom lashes before falling down in accursed pitter-patter that wettened the floor.

knock, knock.

"hey?" the younger man shot his head up only to see the older navigator's face. his voice was hoarse, "what do you want?"

"i-" she stalled, still standing at the door, "i guess zoro told you."

"what do you fucking want?"

"zoro..." her voice grew feeble, as if she was scared of whatever she was about to say, "we all tried— we did. and it just... it didn't work out. she was gone."

"and that' supposed to make it better?"

zoro almost found himself grow disgusted at these people's logic. is your end being inevitable somehow better? no, it is not. you were gone nonetheless, right? so, how could they patronize themselves and convince themselves that it was okay when it wasn't?

"it's not about better or worse." the navigator grew solemn, "you're a kid. you didn't see her the way we did. you don't get it."

a kid?!

before zoro could grow offended, before he could argue his way into his rightful truth, nami continued, "just know that whatever blame you're putting on your older version, he already feels a hundred times more guilty. you're no match for him. so, keep your anger, your— your grief to yourself. he's got plenty of it."

and just like that, the door was shut and zoro was left alone again.

minutes ticked by, and the only way he knew of the time passing was by the slight sunrays filtering through the curtain you had probably put up.

the pink fabric swayed and the sunrays peaked through — all shy and timid. the sunlight fell on the wooden floor and the younger man realized — after a long time — that the flooring was different than the rest of the ship. did you choose it too?

craning his head to check out each crevice of the room again, you were everywhere. even in your absence, you haunted him. you lingered.

did his older version feel it too? did every breath he take feel like he was stealing one from you? or when he ate, did he feel your presence next to him? did he feel you when the sun hit his face or when the curtains you once chose swayed every early morning? or when he sprayed your scent every morning, and held your pillow at night?

did you linger for his older version like you did for his present one?

and what was that nami said? that the older man had enough grief to carry over for a million lifetimes?

roronoa zoro knew he was no saint when it came to words but should he have not used his tongue as a sword this time around? for your sake?

zoro found himself picking his achy body up. trudging out of the room, he walked through the new hallways till he reached the deck.

the sun was barely over the horizon and yet, at the crow's nest stood a familiar 'mosshead'. climbing up the stairs, the man reached the very top and stood in silence.

he knew the forty-something knew of his presence, but neither of the versions said anything at all.

"hey," the younger man finally called out to the older one, "uh— i'm... i came to say sorry."

but the older man didn't quite respond, instead still staring at the shimmering, calm sea.

"i— i was angry. i shouldn't have blamed you—"

"i blame me too, kid." the older man's voice was somehow more gruff, "trust me, if i could bargain my life for hers, i wouldn't be here. i would be dead a thousand times over if it was for her."

"i know," the younger mosshead stood next to his older version. his eyes scanned the eerily calm sea, the way that the sun reflected off the tides in heavenly bliss, "i am you, after all."

"i can't lie," the younger man gripped the railing harder, "i still am angry, i can't— i cannot bear the idea of losing her but... can i really not fucking change it? can't i get chopper to read about the illness, or get her the best medical care? or- or—" the man struggled, desperate for anything, "anything?"

"i don't know, kid." the man hummed, "this is my reality, i cannot go back to the past. your present is all you have... and you- you still have her. not me."

"what if i cannot save her?" zoro spluttered, "despite knowing what'd happen— what if?"

"then, you'd live like me — a bitter old man. then, we'd share the same fate." the older man finally met his younger face. god, he looked like a child, "but for now, you have her. love her."

"i already do."

"i know, kid," the man laughed, the sound something grounded and raw, "i was you once."

"right..." zoro nodded, pursing his lips as if it were obvious. "so, should i propose to her? make it official? or should i take her out on a vacation? maybe we both should retire—"

"kid," the older man hummed, "how 'bout you just exist in the present with her? i don't know if you'd have her or not... but you have her right now, right?"

"right."

the older man smiled, and the laugh lines became alive for the first time in a long, long time. "then, just be with her. that's enough."

"okay," the younger zoro nodded and a sheepish expression made to his face, "sorry again 'bout the... y'know—"

"eh, i'm you. whatever you said, i've already thought it, kid."

"oh, yeah... that makes sense." the younger zoro hummed, "wait, do you think we can talk telepathically?"

"no. obviously not." but the older man laughed again, "or can we?"

and for the first time in years did the crew hear zoro laugh again.

oh, maybe this younger zoro was a good, happy accident. maybe he had come not to save you, but rather the gloomy, forty-something swordsman.

a/n: angst is really not my forte and it doesn't help that i wrote this while listening to "superbass" like... girl the vibes weren't vibing. anyways have this :)