Disclaimer: The plot, characters, origin stories, setting, world, magic system, planet or planets, etc. do not belong to me. They belong to Oda, who has no connection to this story in any fashion. Each shot has no specific timeline outside of taking place after the time-skip and may contain spoilers, so read at your own risk. Each one-shot ranges from an E-M rating, as some stories will include sex scenes, gore, and mentions of SA, among other topics that may be inappropriate to some readers. Discretion is advised. Some OOC moments will be loosely connected to Canon.
Sake and Sakura
The crew was as energetic as ever. Seeing as Jimbei finally made it officially aboard the ship with everyone else, things were very lively. Drinking nearly every night and having a time. The fishman seemed to adjust comfortably amongst the rowdy atmosphere, similar in nature to the resident archaeologist and swordsman. Things had fallen silent among the Sunny, aside from Brooks slow rendition of 'Bink's Sake' flowing from the deck, the aforementioned three more quiet members of the crew enjoy a peaceful moment in the kitchen away from the drunken snores of their comrades. "Fufufufu Boss, san, you seem to be adjusting rather well." Robin commented softly after laughing at remnants of some of Usopp and Luffy's antics scattered around the room.
The large helmsman made an amused grunt, turning his attention to the raven-haired beauty who sat between himself and Zoro at the table. The swordsman in question was more quiet than usual, his singular gaze switching from closed to looking outside at the sea and ultimately landing on Robin. Jimbei couldn't place the emotion in the moss head's eyes. "It's easy; this bunch is unlike any other in the best of ways." He said it with a wide, sharp grin. The elder took a swig from his mug, and the pair next to him followed suit. It'd been very late in the night, and the members with the weakest constituency had long passed out in drunken stupors. After a bit of time, he stood up with a sigh. "I suppose I'm on shift for watching the sea tonight." He stretched his hefty arms out for a brief moment before bowing lightly to his comrades.
"Please enjoy the evening, Nico Robin." Jimbei said "Roronoa Zoro." Robin smiled sweetly, and Zoro gave a curt nod in acknowledgment. The fishman made his way gingerly out of the kitchen and up to the crow's nest, trying not to wake up the sleeping crew members. Robin giggled again; there was a slight blush gracing her porcelain skin. Buzzed at most, the statuesque beauty still had her wits about her. She let out a soft sigh, which, over the years, Zoro had heard so many times at this point. He glanced over at her without turning his head from the gentle waves of the sea.
"Our merry crew is ever changing." She said it a bit under her breath. "We've truly come so far on our journey. We've made it through so much..." Her voice waivered a bit, which made the younger swordsman turn his head swiftly to see the woman's face. In the dimming light of the kitchen, he could make out her beautiful blue eyes, glazed with what he knew were tears. His facial expression remained stoic as he took another swig for his sake. This hadn't been the first time the pair had shared a solemn moment like this. Zoro had to be among the few crewmates who saw Robin in her most vulnerable state consistently. Perhaps aside from Nami and Franky, who'd both lived a similar enough life that they could relate more deeply to her pain,
Regardless, the young, green-haired man always found himself alone with the archeologist, sharing silent time together. She felt the most safe with him. Of course she loved and trusted everyone on the crew, as they'd all proved their genuine care, but for some reason the woman always found some solace in the younger man. Perhaps it was his rock-steady personality or his stone-hard physical form; neither knew. It didn't bother Zoro a bit though; in fact, he felt a sense of comfort with her as well. Unlike most of the other women he'd known and/or spent significant time around—Nami, Tashigi, Peronoa, Kuina—Robin was so different. Though she was strong and capable of easily defending herself, she had so much more of a feminine air to her being. Where Nami was more fiery and a bit childish, Robin was mature, dignified, resilient, yet still innocent. She was like a Sakura tree. Strong roots, with beautiful petals that just needs the right care and setting to fully bloom.
And despite her government-appointed epithet 'Devil Child', she was more like an Archangel who slayed his inner demons and cast away the darkness from battle. Even Kitetsu was much calmer when around his older counterpart. She was like his serenity among the insanity of the world. In these moments together, he found he'd secretly looked forward to being her rock.
Wordlessly, the swordsman reached out his strong arm, pulling Robin into his chest as tears began to stream down her flushed cheeks. She immediately buried her face deeper and wrapped her own slender arms around him in turn. The musk of his sake-soaked breath, surprisingly not dank, warmed her spirit. He sighed to himself, taking in the gentle scent of cherry blossom as he rested his chin on her head, running his fingers through her long black hair. "I will always protect you." He said quietly and reassuringly. He felt her lips curl up into a smile against his partially exposed chest as they held each other.
So often did they share this type of embrace in secret. They both needed it. Deep down they both needed some reassurance that they weren't cold monsters, hardened by life to the point that they couldn't feel anything. He used to think himself weak for his softness with the blue eyed femme fatale. But he learned that she often put battery in his back to fight harder. She was his biggest strength, and he hers.
With each passing moment, their connection deepened, a tapestry of emotions woven within the opulent embrace. in this luxurious realm of solace, time stood still, and they found solace in the symphony of their shared desires, a dance of whispered secrets and unspoken promises.
The ship was silent, with only the breeze and crashing waves to be heard, lulling the crew into deeper sleep, as the moonlight danced upon the gilded carvings of the ship's head, casting an ethereal glow on the sunflower's face, embodying the grandeur of a gently floating palace.