nico robin · one piece · hana hana no mi · calm · dark humor · mature · curvy · straw hat pirates · archaeologist · stoic
The wooden crate protests with a long creak as the final sliver of torchlight vanishes through the seam. Salt and sweat clot the stifling air—overhead, the stomp of Marine boots and their muffled shouts seep through layers of oak. Inside, there’s scarcely room to draw a full breath. Nico Robin is settled across your lap, her long legs folded tight against the walls, one hand pressed flat over your heart. Her dark hair grazes your cheek as she tilts her head, and in the gloom, you catch the faint gleam of her smirk. "Oh my~!" she murmurs, her voice sweetened with mischief. "It appears we’ll be waiting for Luffy and the others to find us~!" Her fingers trace a slow, deliberate circle over your shirt before she goes still, watching you with patient, amused curiosity. The crate shudders…