RORONOA ZORO X NICO ROBIN
WC: 3,496 words to be exact and I am not sorry
CW: uh...zobin I guess if you're against the ship it's your own warning, zoro who pretends to not be a loser, zoro has a praise kink believe it or not, now you know, you're welcome, some fluff, mostly zoro being clueless and robin being robiin
AUTHOR'S NOTES: this is zoro's POV from the previous fic I wrote for zobin which was from robin's POV. i love them very much they are so special to me. what other scenario should I write them in?
Sun kissed shoulders stung with the overly zealous affection of the sun. If Roronoa Zoro didn't know any better, he'd say the big burning orb in the sky was in love with him.
Air blew noisily through his nose, the only semblance of humor he was willing to allow himself for his ridiculous inner thoughts. Imagine that? The Sun in love with him? Who did he think he was? Some kind of deity?
He knew that word, and he knew how to spell and use it now, thank you very much. Robin had taught him as much a few days ago, when she was reading out loud from one of her books. It hadn't been intentional. It's just that as he was finding his sunny spot oddly comforting and lulling, Robin's equally lulling voice had drifted to him and caught his interest.
Zoro wasn't sure how they kept ending up togetherâin the same spots together, he should clarify. They weren't together. He looked up from where he was picking up the bag of soil to see Robin looking her usual distracted self. The warm ocean breeze softly blew through her dark hair, hiding her face from him in fractures. A strange feeling seized inside of him; a muscle pulled taut that he hardly used, painful and foreign.
Strength was something he was knowledgeable on. He knew how to hone it, and how to control it. It wasn't intangible, and unknownâlike the uneasiness in his chest. A creature of habit, he focused on the bag of soil in his possession and switched shoulders for the time being.
"Where do you want it?" he asked Robin, noticing the thinly veiled hint of annoyance in his own voice. If he was any less shameless he would have been embarrassed at himself. Zoro's dark gaze swept over to Robin's silhouette. She stood there bathed in sunlight and utterly clueless to his dilemma. "Robin?"
He watched her eyes focus once more, and a smile bloomed like a delicate flower on her pale face.
"There's fine, thank you!" she said, her voice a warm toned melody. Zoro had to blink himself free from the weird spell, and followed her finger with newfound discipline. It was the best he could do to hide his embarrassment. He frowned at the empty garden bed, and had half a mind to ask her if she had made it before he reminded himself he knew better.
It was no big secret in the crew that Franky had a soft spot for their archeologist. Surely, this was just another one of his dedicated inventions. Zoro scoffed before he could stop himself, his mouth a crooked and disdainful as he rolled the bag off his shoulder. He watched it slump there, looking pathetic and powerless against the empty flower bed.
Good. It had it coming, he thought.
There was that feeling again, as if he was being watched. When he glanced over to Robin, she was watching him again in that quiet manner of hersâas if she was judging him with an indecipherable smile. He thought he had gotten used to it, but as of late, it was starting to make him feel anxious again. At least, that's what he was willing to name the feeling in his chestâthe kind that fluttered, and buzzed, before warming the rest of his body.
"Robin," he said, calling her name he felt, for far too many times in the span of a few minutes. It felt like obsession, at this point, and his pride was threatening to lodge in the middle of his throat. Was she that bored by his presence?
The bag of soil became his punching bag once more, as it tore under his strength. He enjoyed the sound of tearing canvas. The ripping that he felt through his fingers was oddly satisfying but not enough to soothe his bruised ego.
"Are you even listening to anything I say?"
The words were out before he could swallow them back. He wanted to cuss himself out. If it was possible, he would have jumped into the sea rather than to sound like a petulant child begging for attention. What had gotten into him, anyway? Didn't he have other things he could be doing? Yet, there he was. The sun was hot on the back of his neck, fingertips covered in dirt, while being completely ignored by the one person he wasn't sure he wanted to impress.
"What am I even doing here?" he muttered, once again, his own damn mouth betraying him. He never even had this much lack of control when he drank.
He should get up and leave. He had done the heavy liftingâa task that he was positive she could have handled on her own. What was there left for him to do for her? Robin was completely self-reliant. She had survived on her own since she was a child even with the World Government on the hunt for her head. She had been through things Zoro could only imagine.
What did Nico Robin need from a swordsman like him?
"I'm so sorry, Zoro," her voice, like silk, wrapped around him, startling him into speechlessness. As he blinked quickly, his breath hitched in his throat. Robin reached into the bag. Her arm snaked like a vine between his. "I'm being a bit inconsiderate here, aren't I?"
His body tensed, not daring to move. If he did, he might touch her. Zoro wasn't sure if that was a good idea, especially not while that strange anxiety slipped through him once more, warming him down to his fingertips. There was a heat on his face he longed to ignore, and he hoped she did as well. As if seeking an answer from her, his brown eyes sought hers. They shone brighter under the sun, as if they had swallowed the sunlight themselves.
Zoro wasn't sure he had ever seen something so surreal.
"I should fill the flower bed," he heard her sayâher voice adopting a new lilt to it. Zoro frowned. "You can't plant anything if there's no soil to begin with."
Unsure of the situation, and unsure if there was anything unspoken at all to fuss over, he decided to let it go. He was more interested in work he could do with his hands, than his brain anyways. Dirt felt real, solid under his fingers. He seized handfuls of it and tossed them into the empty flower bed, enjoying the sensation of it squeezing past his knuckles. As satisfying as it was, it was slow work, and he grew impatient. Sensing little protest from the unofficial project director, Zoro stood up, tilted the bag and emptied it all at once.
"Well done, Zoro!" Her voice was cheerful, inciting a strange sense of accomplishment. Zoro wanted to slice right through it. If it had a head, he would cut it off immediately. That blossoming smile was on her face againâand so was a dark hand print right over that bewitching grin.
He frowned, unsure of what to say or if what he was seeing was real for a second. He wanted to laugh, more than anything, but he didn't know if Robin would appreciate that. He felt the corners of his lips twitched as he tried to reign it in. She looked so comical. The usual cool, and effortless Nico Robin rendered into a physical comedy gag by the power of whatâcarelessness?
It almost broke him.
"What is it?" she asked, her clear eyes on his face. It was almost enough to make him confess.
He stared back at her, feeling his chest swell up. Wind danced around his ankles, warm and almost sensual. The silence between them invited further conversationâa secret space just for them, but he still didn't dare. Robin was so hard to read, and Zoro wasn't as big of a risk taker as he thought.
He shook his head once, ashamed; unable to bear looking back into her eyes that seemed to see everything. He shifted his weight to one foot, and looked down at them before directing his attention to the garden bed.
"What are you planting anyway?" he asked, eager to push past whatever had just happenedâor not happenedâbetween them; brushing his nose twice before hand. It was a nervous habit he couldn't quite quit.
"Ah!" Came Robin's excited voice, clapping her hands once. Zoro bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Her skirt moved elegantly despite her eager bounding steps in the direction of a tray of sprouts. She moved quickly, showing him some satchels he barely had a glance of before she was tossing them back down. Her excitement was palpable in her erratic movements. In a sense it reminded him of Luffy. "I'm so glad you asked. I have been holding on to these for the right climate. I grew what I could inside and after talking to Nami it seems there is no better time than now."
Roronoa Zoro stayed quiet as he stood there, his weight on one leg, knuckles pressed against his hips. He watched her through dark lashes, the sun was again shining around her. Was it her hair? Did it attract sunlight like flowers did butterflies? Was it normal for light to hang from someone's crown like a halo? Had he lost his damn mind?
He had lost his damn mind. Or he was hungry. Should he eat?
As he ruminated in a panic about his options, he stayed eerily stillâonly his chest rising and falling faster as he tried to talk himself off the ledge. Robin continued, a map or something in her hands now.
"Of course, being at sea means anything could happen. We could get swept away by a massive wave, or we could get eaten by a Sea King and all my planning would have been for naught."
As Robin paused for breath, Zoro's left eyebrow rose a fraction. If he had lost his mind, at least he was no more crazier than anyone else in his crew if Robin's little speech was anything to go off by. He stepped forward to tug the drawn layout from her fingers, wordlessly declaring it his distraction from his inner thoughts.
"You could also die while eating an onigiri," Zoro muttered, turning the layout Robin had painstakingly drawn, color coded, and wrote notes on with careful penmanship here and there like he was waiting for secrets to pop out of it. He could go for an onigiri now, maybe four. As he thought about the list of foods he'd like to eat soon, Robin tried to take his distraction away. He snatched it back in time only to be thwarted by her Devil Fruit.
He gave in this time, letting her have the victory. At least that's what he was going to tell himself.
He watched her slip away from him, seemingly finding the garden bed more interesting than him. Zoro tried to find no offense to that but his pride was bigger than he thought; and here he thought that had been beaten out of him a long time ago.
"If you chew your food, you don't have to worry too much about that," Robin said coolly, as she laid down the layout she had claimed from him. He stepped forward to watch her work over her shoulder. The rocks she used to pin the sheet down caught his interest, and he frowned at them only to realize he recognized the artwork to be Usopp's. "Unless you're severely allergic to an ingredient in the onigiri. What a shame!"
As he figured, there really wasn't much he could do for her yet he couldn't control his next move. He found himself there, inexplicably knelt by her side, staring at the soil as if he could find answers buried in there. If he dug enough, could he get down to the reason for the strange feeling that liked to occasionally live inside the cavity of his chest? If he toiled, dug again would he find another side of Robin that he didn't know aboutâthat no one did?
The sun was unforgiving above him, threatening to burn a hole through the back of his head. Zoro almost welcomed it, if the sun felt daring enough to take him on. It would be a welcome reprieve to all the insufferable thoughts. He didn't think he was much of a thinker; the irony was enough to give him a nosebleed if he continued to ruminate it further.
Robin was saving him from himself again.
She placed a shovel in his roughened hand, and he looked at her brieflyâher cheeks bright and pink, eyes downcast. It was a sight that tempted him to drink it up to the point of intoxication.
He gripped the shovel's handle tighter, and got to work. He spaced out holes for the seedlings, doing the math in his head quite easily.
"Is that deep enough?" he asked, and a part of himâthe one he wanted to beheadâwished she would praise him again, like she did before.
"Yes, that should be fine. I'll go get the trays."
It was not the reaction he was hoping for, and he swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment. He clenched his jaw to keep from sulking, ignoring the risk it posed on his molars.
Robin made an attempt to stand up to get the trays , but Zoro pressed a calloused hand on her forearm, pushing her down gently. It wasn't her fault that he had lost his mind. It was entirely his responsibility.
"I got 'em," he mumbled, as he stood up, desperate to get away from her for a moment to breathe and gain his sanity back.
He wished the trays were heavier. He wished they were his confusing feelings, and his stupid wishes, and his childish desire for praise, that way he could have flung them into the ocean in a fake accident.
Instead, they were Robin's precious seedlingsâones she had told him, that she had taken the extra care to raise inside away from the unpredictable elements of the oceans. As such, he started walking them back to her, careful not to jostle them too much.
Unpredictably, his previous distraction flew into the air, and he reacted before he could stop himself by catching it with one hand. Not wanting to drop the trays, he shoved it into his shirt for later retrieval.
"How do you want these anyway?" Zoro asked, reaching her quicker than he had planned. He wasn't sure he was back to his regular senses, and didn't trust himself to make a fool of himself once more.
"By height of course," Robin answered. Zoro nodded, as if to say 'of course', as well. He should have thought of that. "Sunflowers in the very back, then coneflowers and then the zinnias."
Zoro watched her point at them, and nodded once to acknowledge her instructions. He grabbed what looked like the right seedling and tried to plant it in one of the holes in the back but was stopped by the feel of Robin's cool hand on top of his.
"Zoro," she said. Zoro's fingers twitched, as if they wanted to act on their own. "Do you know about the language of flowers?"
Zoro stayed silent, as she moved his hands, and a seedling, to the right spot. His heart hammered away in his chest. Together, they covered the seedling with dirt.
"I don't know," he said hoarsely, his mouth dryer than it's ever been. "Am I supposed to?"
Robin giggled, shoulders briefly shaking with her mirth. The sound played atop his skin, every single note stinging it's way up his spine. She bumped the back of her hand with his, and it was enough to make him hold his breath.
"I could hardly expect a swordsman like you to busy yourself with learning such things, butâŠ" She guided him again to plant another seedling, her lithe fingers brushed over his. Zoro wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. "Would you like to know?"
Zoro reminded himself to breathe. Adrenaline coursed through him, the kind of head rush he usually found in battle. Every sense felt alive, he could smell her every time he breathed inâsweet and floral, like an expensive tea.
"Go ahead."
"Zinnias, for example," she pointed to the front line. Zoro squinted at the leaves. They hardly seemed different to him but he trusted her to know. "Symbolize enduring friendship and remembrance. Isn't that wonderful?"
Robin smiled at the seedlings, the kind of glow on her cheeks that she had when she would smile at Chopperânot that he had been watching too much.
Zoro shrugged, as if this would throw the weight of his own suspicion off.
"It also represents lasting affection."
Zoro's hands froze momentarily, before he forced them to workâhis heart lurching painfully as if he had been caught stealing from the kitchen. Just what the hell was wrong with him? Was it sun poisoning? Was that what was going on? Because it sure felt like it. He was melting.
"What about these?" he asked, burying a coneflower that Robin had to save by shaking off a top layer of dirt.
"Coneflowers symbolize strength, resilience, and healing. Something I wish for you," Robin murmured before quickly adding. "All of you."
"I'm already strong," Zoro mumbled, looking away to frown at Robin. Was she doubting him? He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He wanted to remind himself this was Nico Robin not that stupid Ero Cook. She wasn't Nami either. There was no need to look for hidden meanings in her words. "And I'm not sick. I don't need healing."
Robin smiled back at Zoro, and the corners of her eyes crinkled.
"Yes," she said simply before turning her attention back to their work. "You're not sick."
"And these?"
Robin planted the last of the sunflowers with Zoro's help as a bemused expression took over her face.
"Sunflowers are my favorite," she said quietly. A warm breeze blew through her hair. Zoro leaned closer to hear her, and found that quickly to be a mistake. He could smell her again, more strongly than before. If he breathed deep enough, he could taste her scent in the back of his mouth. Robin looked up into Zoro's eyes.
His breath was arrested; anchored, thrown into the abyss. Still, he held on.
"They symbolize adoration, loyalty and devotion."
"Devotion," he muttered under his breath, his eyes finding Robin's face. He watched her quietly, his eyes tracing the planes of her face. What did Robin know of devotion? She seemed like a solitary creature, or at least she had been before joining them. If she was devoted to anything it was to her books. Was that what she thought of it?
And why did he care? Did he not have his own things to devote himself to? His own missions? Why was he bending his tiny brain in every direction trying to solve the mystery of Nico Robin like he was the archaeologist on the ship and not the other way around?
Irritation settled on the nape of his neck.
"You have dirt on your face," he told her simply.
Robin wiped at her face with the back of her arms. In her moment of panic, Zoro seized the opportunity and stood up. Now would be the time to retreat, although he'd be loathed to admit it out loud.
He looked down at her, a frown heavy between his brows. As silence fell between them again, Zoro felt guilt bite the back of his knees. He was a coward.
Zoro held out his hand to her. And he waited.
Her blue eyes, sparkling in the sun, took in the sight of his hand and Zoro wondered what she was looking for in them. After listening to his own heartbeat in his ears for far too long, Robin wrapped her cold fingers around his.
Zoro pulled her up, surprised at how light she felt. Slightly unsettled, Zoro stood there in silence, watching his shadow cast partially over Robin. The sunlight still found its hanging place on her crownâa suitable throne.
He tilted his head and scoffed softlyâa gentle laugh that barely made a sound.
"I half expected you to plant a bunch of poisonous plants. I guess I was wrong again."
Now was the time to retreat, before he said something else that would give too much away.
"Again?" Robin asked his retreating figure. Zoro turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder with a sideways grin.
Would it be like this, every time? Her voice the sound that could stop him on his tracks, and reel him back like a fishing line.
RORONOA ZORO X NICO ROBIN
WC: 2.2k
CW: clueless zoro, weird girl robin, it is sfw nothing crazy, maybe mentions of death?
SUMMARY: robin has been planning a flower garden for some time but she never planned on having roronoa zoro volunteer to help her...
AUTHOR'S NOTES: this is my first ever zobin fic, and it is my first time writing from robin's pov. i tried to create a bit of whimsy with her inner voice. robin is well educated, and knowledgeable, but she does have a penchant for allowing herself to get lost in fantasy (which is often morbid). i tried to showcase that here without writing 20k, also I may have included some headcanons which i will talk about some other time.
Heat seeped into her skin, as the sun's rays kissed her browning shoulders. Although its idea of affection stung, Nico Robin welcomed it with open arms.
She was no stranger to pain, and she considered it a small price to pay for freedom. There were far more gruesome punishments she could imagine. For example, if Mr. Sun felt like it, he could probably choose to turn up the heat to such a degree, the sea around them would start to boil, and her skin would bubble bit by bit. Then, it would scorch black, and slough off her bones like putrid gelatin, as her shrill screaming voice died out in her throat.
That was definitely worse than a little stinging. If anything, at least now she could say it was Mr. Sun pinching her. That way she could make sure that she indeed was awake, and not imagining the fact that Roronoa Zoro had volunteered to help her with her project.
"Where do you want it?" he asked gruffly. The color of his voice was always softly tinted with some kind of mild annoyance. Robin would wonder if that was a sort of fatal affliction, if she didn't know any better. It indeed wasn't. She had looked it up, and no book contained such a malady. "Robin?"
Her name rolled off his tongue, bringing her back to the Sunny, under the sun and in Zoro's orbit. Slowly, she blinked, as a smile stretched her lips. She flicked a finger to a spot by the empty raised garden bed Franky had constructed for her.
"There's fine, thank you!"
Zoro rolled the bag of soil off his shoulder with the same ease he would lift those oversized weights he loved to train with. His strength was monstrous, no doubt, and Nico Robin couldn't help but be fascinated by it. Crystalline eyes danced over the curve of his biceps. The skin there was dark from the sun. Just how many bicep curls did it take to get to that size? Ten thousand? Hundred thousand?
"Robin," he said again, this time squatting in front of the bag of soil. Zoro's thick fingers tore at the bag. "Are you even listening to anything I say?"
Robin blinked, finally realizing her wandering mind was leaving her in a position where she was being inadvertently rude to Zoro. He started muttering again before she had a chance to apologize.
"What am I even doing here?"
His voice was slightly higher than a whisper. Had she not been making a pointed effort to focus on the conversation, instead of all her curious thoughts about him, she would have missed it entirely. Again.
Hair, soft as silk, slid over one warm shoulder as she tilted her head, like a curtain of starless night.
"I'm so sorry, Zoro," she said softly, kneeling next to him. She reached out between his arms, to dig her hand into the soil trapped within the bag. "I'm being a bit inconsiderate here, aren't I?"
Zoro's shoulders tensed immediately. Her observation skills were a double edged sword, Robin thought, as she took in Zoro's blushing cheeks through a sidelong glance that lasted longer than she intended it to. A part of her reveled in the newfound piece of information. The other felt humiliated in his behalf.
"I should fill the flower bed," Robin forced herself to say. Her lashes fluttered quickly as she tried to blink away the awkwardness. "You can't plant anything if there's no soil to begin with."
Zoro joined in without a spoken word. His big strong hands, grabbing handfuls of soil before he realized he could just tilt the entire bag in. Robin didn't even stop him. She was busy being a bit embarrassed that she didn't think of that in the first place.
She quickly placed a hand over her mouth, eyes widened in slight worry. She had been so worried about Zoro's health earlier she hadn't considered her own. Had she come down with something that was impairing her judgment?
"Well done, Zoro!" Robin said cheerfully, standing up straight and rewarding Zoro with a beaming smile; eagerness set into her bones. It was imperative she moved the conversation and mission forward if she wanted to keep control of the situation.
Zoro looked back at her, his eyes narrowed. There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if he was torn between saying something or laughingâor both.
"What is it?"
Robin and Zoro stared at each other, as the warm ocean breeze danced around their ankles. Silence surrounded them in its safety net, and promised no judgment, yet Roronoa could only shake his head.
He shifted his weight in his feet, and averted his gaze to them, then to the raised garden bed now full with soil. "What are you planting anyway?" he asked after brushing his nose, twice, with the back of his hand.
"Ah!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands once in excitement. Robin's long legs carried her underneath her skirt to the trays of seedlings she had left discarded earlier. Next to it, was a weaved basket. From it, she procured an assortment of small satchels to show off before tossing them back down.
"I'm so glad you asked. I have been holding on to these for the right climate. I grew what I could inside and after talking to Nami it seems there is no better time than now."
Roronoa Zoro stayed quiet as he stood there, his weight on one leg, knuckles pressed against his hips. Robin's heart raced as she watched him observe her, silently, through dark lashes. She reached again into the basket for a distractionâand pulled out the layout she had drawn.
"Of course, being at sea means anything could happen. We could get swept away by a massive wave, or we could get eaten by a Sea King and all my planning would have been for naught."
As Robin paused for breath, Zoro's left eyebrow rose a fraction. He stepped forward to tug the drawn layout from her fingers.
"You could also die while eating an onigiri," Zoro muttered, turning the layout Robin had painstakingly drawn, color coded, and wrote notes on with careful penmanship here and there like he was waiting for secrets to pop out of it. Perturbed, Robin tried snatching it back. Zoro pulled it away, but before he could keep it any longer, a hand appeared out of his shoulder to hold his wrist in place.
Robin snatched it back, and knelt in front of the garden bed feeling as if the back of her neck was on fire. Maybe there was time for Mr. Sun to inflict his worse punishment yet. Maybe, just maybe, her skin would bubble and slough off her bones after allâexposing the very fiber that made her to the nosy Master Swordsman beside her.
"If you chew your food, you don't have to worry too much about that," Robin chimed in at last gathering her bearings. She laid the drawing on the ground flat, and pinned it in a corner with a painted rock; Usopp's contribution. He had drawn the different flowers and their namesâa rock for each one so she could know what was planted where. "Unless you're severely allergic to an ingredient in the onigiri. What a shame!"
The only thing hotter than Mr. Sun at the moment, seemed to be Roronoa Zoro.
Robin was taken aback by the amount of body heat radiating from him as he knelt next to herâhis steely gaze on the uneven soil inside the raised garden bed. Beads of sweat eased from his mossy green sideburns, and leapt off the sharp edge of his jawline to their pitiful deaths. Where they landed, Robin wasn't sure, and she wasn't keen on finding out. There were bigger mysteries to solve at the moment.
For example, how many times did she need to blink to formulate a thought that wasn't about the circumference of Roronoa Zoro's thick neckâand how difficult would it be to strangle him.
Lost for words, she handed Zoro a hand shovel. Luckily for her, he seemed to have some idea of what he was doing, and went about spacing out some holes for the seedlings she had brought out.
"Is that deep enough?"
Robin was impressed by Zoro's ability to focus under duress. Had she become so comfortable in her position among the Strawhats that she had lost her cautious edge?
"Yes, that should be fine. I'll go get the trays." She made an attempt to stand up to get them, but Zoro's calloused hand, pressed down on her forearm, pushing her down with enough gentleness to startle her.
"I got 'em," he mumbled, as he stood up.
His back looked massive from where Robin knelt. She looked away to count the rocks Usopp had given her; three for each flower. Robin placed the rocks inside the raised garden bed, in order of expected height. Her layout broke free from the rock prison and took flight. Robin gasped in surprise but Zoro's reflex stopped the paper's journey short.
He tucked it into his shirt, so that his hands were free to carry the trays.
"How do you want these anyway?"
"By height of course," Robin answered, happy to be the one leading. "Sunflowers in the very back, then coneflowers and then the zinnias."
Zoro watched her point at them, and nodded once to acknowledge her instructions right before trying to plant some of the Zinnias in the back. Robin almost didn't stop him, too stunned to process how quickly he got that wrong.
"Zoro," she said, placing one of her hands over hisâthe dirt between their touching skin felt intrusive. "Do you know about the language of flowers?" Zoro stayed silent, as she moved his hands, and a seedling, to the right spot. Together, they covered it with dirt.
"I don't know. Am I supposed to?"
Robin couldn't help it. She giggled, shoulders briefly shaking with her mirth. She bumped the back of her hand with his to get his attention. Zoro stilled, and Robin wasn't sure if he was still breathing.
"I could hardly expect a swordsman like you to busy yourself with learning such things, butâŠ" She guided him again to plant another seedling, her lithe fingers brushed over his. "Would you like to know?"
She watched Zoro's lashes flutter, the sun making her realize that they were actually a dark green. Truly, she was far too gifted in observation for anyone's good.
"Go ahead."
"Zinnias, for example" she pointed to the front lineâexpecting them to be the shortest of all. "Symbolize enduring friendship and remembrance. Isn't that wonderful?" Robin smiled at them, picturing the faces of her crew mates. She hoped the flowers would grow as strong as them.
Zoro shrugged for all her enthusiasm. Robin was not put off.
"It also represents lasting affection." Zoro stilled, again, before continuing his work. Robin was almost convinced his already flushing face had gotten redder.
"What about these?" he asked, burying a coneflower that Robin had to save by shaking off a top layer of dirt.
"Coneflowers symbolize strength, resilience, and healing. Something I wish for you," Robin murmured before quickly adding. "All of you."
"I'm already strong," Zoro mumbled, looking away to frown at Robin. Silence filled the small space between their shoulders before he spoke again. "And I'm not sick. I don't need healing."
Robin smiled back at Zoro, and the corners of her eyes crinkled. Leave it to the swordsman to interpret her words that way.
"Yes," she said simply before turning her attention back to their work. "You're not sick." But maybe she was.
"And these?"
Robin planted the last of the sunflowers with Zoro's help as a bemused expression took over her face.
"Sunflowers are my favorite," she said quietly. A warm breeze blew through her hair. Zoro leaned closer to hear her. Robin looked up into Zoro's curious eyes. Their intensity felt oddly misplaced. It unsettled her. Still, she pressed on. "They symbolize adoration, loyalty and devotion."
"Devotion," he muttered under his breath, his eyes finding Robin's face. He watched her quietly, his eyes tracing the planes of her face. Her heart felt loud to her ears, so she focused on Zoro's scar instead. He never did give her straight answer about what happened to his eye. "You have dirt on your face."
Robin wiped at her face with the back of her arms, unsure if she was making it worse or better. In her moment of panic, Zoro had stood up.
He looked down at her, the usual frown back in place. As silence fell between them again, Robin wondered just what happened in that head sometimes.
Zoro held out his hand to her.
She looked at it, fingers coated in soil, light scars still visible on knuckles, and up his wrist and forearm; each a story waiting to be uncovered. Curiosity was her burden, and she seized itâwrapping her fingers around his.
Maybe one day, she'd figure out the secrets carved into his skin.
Zoro pulled her up with a strength that shouldn't have surprised her. Briefly startled, Robin stood there in silence, partially in Zoro's shadowâthe sun shining on their heads.
He tilted his head and scoffed softlyâa gentle laugh that barely made a sound.
"I half expected you to plant a bunch of poisonous plants. I guess I was wrong again."
"Again?" Robin asked his retreating figure. Zoro turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder with a sideways grin.
Robin felt the tug of a string pull her back taught.
"Robin," he called out.
"Yes?"
"You still have dirt on your face."
If you made it to the end, thank you for reading! Like I said, my first ever Zobin fic so I came up with a short scene just to get a feel for them. Should I write the same scene from Zoro's POV next? Maybe I'll write something different.
In the manga, Robin's eyes are originally brown. I described them as crystalline because I have gotten used to her blue eyes in anime. Another personal preference is my belief that Zoro's lashes are a very dark green.
Anyway thank you for reading a very indulgent piece of writing. If there are zobin fans out there reading. What are some of your personal headcanons?
Reanimated System (reani- & -nima): a gender connected to being a/an [x] reanimated. this gender is connected to [x], [x] aesthetics, reanimation aesthetics, undead aesthetics, & zombie in nature (ZOBIN (link)/ZOMBIN (link)) genders.
Zombie System (zomb- & -ombie): a gender connected to being a/an [x] zombie. this gender is connected to [x], [x] aesthetics, zombie aesthetics, undead aesthetics, & zombie in nature (ZOBIN (link)/ZOMBIN (link)) genders.
@the anon who asked about zobin the other day, she claimed she was pregnant w seguins child but either terminated or lost the pregnancy (I canât remember which and there was also no proof of a pregnancy at all) A couple years later she got pregnant & gave birth. The actual baby daddy is her ex who is also named Tyler who I think played junior hockey?
That makes sense because she said that she got her baby daddy's initials tattooed to her cheek and it's "TM" not TS so I was confused.
i want you, i donât know if i need you (but ooh, iâd die to find out)
âWoooooo, cominâ in for a landing, Z-bop!â Tobinâs voice cuts into Zoeyâs troubled thoughts. Her mind has already been cloudy enough from the stress of taking this new position onto her shoulders so soon after her dad died. Let alone now, when she has just spent the past almost two hours crammed in the coach section of a plane next to Tobin âThe change in air pressure gives me hella gas, and itâs inevitable, so we just gotta deal with it togetherâ Batra.
