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Mortal beings die. They fade. They go elsewhere and light the darkness with whatever insight they have learned from this thing called life. It is merely his job to make sure they get there.
The sky-the universe-the void, strongly disagrees, constantly chiding him when Zoro greets it to let a soul into oblivion. “One day Zoro, you’ll find out what it means to live and you’ll yearn for the chance to have it.”
The first time Zoro meets Sanji is on his deathbed.
[Zoro is death incarnate. And in all his immortal life, he has never found a reason to live. Until he meets Sanji: over and over again.]
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And maybe along the way, you find purpose in your footsteps. A reason to keep searching. Others to journey with. And you keep going - stumbling over rocks and other hurdles, pausing when there’s a fork in the path, looking to the sky-the universe-the beyond for a guiding hand. But you keep going until you finally reach the end.
10/10 love it!!! So hopeful, so kind to us readers, so beautiful!
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IM TEARING UUPPPPPPPP
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Ch1
Death and its Fool tragicqueenie Summary: Mortal beings die. They fade. They go elsewhere and light the darkness with whatever insight they have learned from this thing called life. It is merely his job to make sure they get there. The sky-the universe-the void, strongly disagrees, constantly chiding him when Zoro greets it to let a soul into oblivion. “One day Zoro, you’ll find out what it means to live and you’ll yearn for the chance to have it.” The first time Zoro meets Sanji is on his deathbed. [Zoro is death incarnate. And in all his immortal life, he has never found a reason to live. Until he meets Sanji: over and over again.]“There’s still some time.” Zoro echoes. Seconds, really. But in terms of eternity, it was a life’s worth of time. Before the physical body would give and the soul would reawaken and take the reaper’s hand to be led into oblivion, to emerge and fuse as one with the universe. A defeated cough wracks the room, but Zoro waits patiently by the man’s side. Sanji, as Zoro had glimpsed from the nameplate outside the hospital room. He lifted his hand weakly, urging Zoro to come a little closer. “I don’t mean to keep you waiting. Please, feel free to take my hand at any point.” It was such an odd request: to take the reaper’s hand. Those he found dying alone often reached for the last scrap of hope, some semblance to cling onto their humanity even if it came in the form of a man who stole the rest of their time. They asked for Zoro’s hand to weaken the burden of the unknown. So Zoro takes the old man’s hand. “It’s not scary.” He tells Sanji. A whisper of words he’s said repeatedly with such little depth in the tone. Humans. They come and they go, and they live like they are immortal only to find themselves at death’s feet. Sanji looks at him, befuddled, scrounging up a gaspy wheezing sort of laugh. “I would certainly hope not. I’m far too old to be frightened now. Thank you - er- uh, what should I call you?” Zoro tilts his head and stares, the pale hand in his palm squeezes a little harder. The heart rate monitor is starting to beep because the numbers are dropping too low. “Please? I’d like to know your name before I die.” Sanji smiles, so soft, so austere and vulnerable, and entirely stripped bare. There is nothing attached to his request. No hope he’s holding onto. Nothing his mind is trying to comprehend as he approaches an end he previously couldn’t comprehend. Entirely calm, completely fearless. The man had taken the reaper’s hand because he did not want death waiting on him. It’s a startling revelation in millennia of mulling around purgatory collecting souls, that he doesn’t even recognize he’s supposed to answer back until Sanji’s at his last breath. “Zoro. My name is Zoro.” There isn’t a response back. The monitor flat lines and nurses rush in pulling on tubes and checking the body. They phase right through Zoro’s body in a desperate attempt to reclaim something from a power far beyond. A younger nurse attempts to pull out the defibrillator. “No, don't.” A doctor says. “His file says do not resuscitate.”Zoro’s biggest problem with immortality was dealing with the abundance of memories. What may seem so vital and altering in one moment is nothing but an insignificant blip on the timeline of eternity. There is no such thing as pivotal. The concept of “life-changing” is such an utterly mortal thing to abide by. Time flows like sand, remnants of the dead shifting and cycling endlessly. No granule stands out more than the others. And just like the insignificance of a grain of sand, existence itself is nothing. So, his memory is faulty. Partially because there is far too much to remember. Mostly because he honestly doesn’t care. Mortal beings die. They fade. They go elsewhere and light the darkness with whatever insight they have learned from this thing called life. It is merely his job to make sure they get there. The sky-the universe-the void, strongly disagrees, constantly chiding him when Zoro greets it each time a soul is let into oblivion. “One day Zoro, you’ll find out what it means to live, and you’ll yearn for the chance to have it.” He doubts that moment will ever come.-. “Yes, I had hopes of running into you once more.” “I could kill you.” Zoro’s brows furrow. A toothy grin. “You do recognize that there were two chances for that, and I remain standing. I believe you’re safe Moss man.” “Stop calling me that.”
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so like: kill me. cause ih my god i knewnit wouldbyeart and i was goddamn right. this shit hurts. but god. its so... poetic and good and fantastic and makes me feel all sort of things. this is made by the kind of author who KNOWS how to write this kinda style and executes it so well that its got me rolling in my bed cause the emotions it fhave me were WAY too much.
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Absolute favourite