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moongothic · 9 months

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Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #Nico Robin #THIS POST WAS AN ACCIDENT. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. WHY DID I WRITE THIS. WHAT DEMON POSSESSED ME #I'm sure someone's written this already right #Right #Surely this fanfic already exists #Please tell me it exists #I dunno what to tell you I am not immune to a Juicy AU #Anyway on a more wholesome side of things: Robin accidentally calling Crocodile ''dad'' and he just inhales and swallows his whole cigar #Nearly chockes to death. Gets burns on his throat.#Robin feeling less alienated because of her DF ability because Croc has seen weirder AND is made of sand himself #If anything if they're literally by themselves then Robin being able to literally lend a hand to Croc at any time could be extremely useful #Like. In regular life situations. 'Cause Croc only has one hand. And Robin as many as she wants. Perfect duo.#(Also if they were travelling on like a small ship then it'd probably be built for a Tall Motherfucker like Croc right)#(Robin's ability would just make the ship more accessible to her and Croc would find that independence good)#Robin still gets a codename because Croc can't have anyone realize who she is. Maybe she even wears like a mask or summin' in public #If Crocodile's openly trans and the news of him transitioning recently broke out. Like. No avoiding that convo eh #Baby Robin's like ''...I read in a book once that some reptiles can change sex but I didn't know crocodiles could do it too''#''💦.../Humans/ can't do that normally either''#''Hmmmm. Weird. I don't think being a girl would suit you though'' // ''...I'll take that as a compliment''#I just. I think they could have really cute interactions if they warmed up to each other after a little while #And I'm Extremely Normal about that

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doomsdaybby · 8 months

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crown of thorns - werewolf!steve harrington x fem!reader (2.7k)

co-wrote by calicojack11 (who is very very unfortunately not on tumblr) & doomsdaybby

content/trigger warnings: blood & wound description, hurt/comfort, size kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, dubious consent, steve is a teensy bit mean but it’s okay!

Steve is never in the mood the day after a moon, but he knew what you were doing while he was gone. He could smell you all night. He can smell you now, too. By the time he’s done with you, you’ll know not to tease him next month.

You’re awake long before the turn of the front door down the hall causes your eyes to snap open. Hazy morning light sifts in through your bedroom window.

Your apartment always seems to stand still the morning after the full moon, like you’re suspended in time as long as you remain between these old walls.

Maybe it’s just the apprehension.

There’s no telling what will walk through that door come sunrise. Sometimes it’s a naked, blood covered body, on other occasions Steve has returned as causally as if he’d just run out for coffee. More often than not, it’s something in between.

Today it’s something in between. You sit up in bed with your legs hanging over the edge, the hem of Steve’s shirt pooling loosely around your waist. There’s no time for you to get the door for him, he’s already flinging it open before you can even stand up.

“You’re hurt.” You observe with a hitch in your throat. It’s been four years since he was bitten. The two of you were just friends back then, just teenagers trying to save the world. It never gets any easier.

“Barely.” Steve responds, and the shadows on his face melt into the bags under his eyes to make him look that much more ominous.

“You’re bleeding.”

“They’re just thorns, baby.” He limps into the room, shirtless and speckled with blood. His gray sweatpants sit low on his hips to show off the dimples at the small of his back as he surpasses you on his way toward your master bathroom.

You swat your hand out to catch his, and he stops at the corner of the mattress while gazing down at his feet. Thick, nail-like thorns protrude from his ribs. He does this shit every month, this pity party of shame.

Always too proud to ask for help or love or softness, but you give it to him anyways. And of course he adores it, the way you touch him so tenderly, but God forbid he ever admit to that fact.

Steve glances at you out of the corner of his eye with a defeated frown.

“Come on.” He reluctantly gives in, and you take his hand to lead him toward your bathroom.

Once there, you run the bath. He likes it hot on the morning after the moon, as hot as the tap will run. Anything to soothe his tired, overworked muscles.

When the water runs cold, you’ll pull the drain and start it all over again, stroking his chest and scratching his head from outside of the tub while he drifts in and out of unrestful, broken slumber.

Steam begins to fill the small room as Steve stretches his arms above his head. His hands latch onto the top of the doorframe, giving you unbridled access to his injuries. You lower yourself to your knees and begin the reaping.

Steve tenses with the plucking of the first thorn, and a small stream of blood begins to flow freely from his torso. You press your thumb over the hole to stop the bleeding but he jerks away from your touch.

“Don’t — Just get it over with.” He grits between clenched, “It’s worse when you go slow. Just do it.”

His words rip at your heartstrings. You know it’ll hurt him, and it’ll hurt you too, but what sort of help would you be if you were to only give it on your own terms?

Two thorns sit near each other at the lower section of his abdomen. You don’t warn him before yanking them out simultaneously.

Steve grunts, and more blood flows. You continue to pluck the miniature railroad ties from his flesh and his composure never breaks.

The most he gives you is a few pained grunts, a couple of low moans and whimpers, his thick fingers clench the jut of the doorframe and he never offers any indication that it feels like he’s being ripped apart.

By the time you’re done, he looks like something macabre, all stretched out and dripping with blood. Crimson stains the right side of his joggers and sweat clings to the hair on his chest as his lungs heave.

He looks down at you on your knees like he hates you, like you’re the one who caused his suffering, while you’re looking up at him with a palm full of thorns ready to be fashioned into a crown. Like he’s a god. Like he’s your god, and you are here to worship.

He releases the door frame and pushes his sweatpants over his hips, down his thighs until they’re in a pile at his feet. Steve’s cock stands at attention before you, right in front of your face.

Slick with precum, veins throbbing and head just as burgundy as the blood painting his skin. Drool fills your mouth immediately. You try to look away but it’s hard.

Maybe he can smell that you’re fertile, maybe that’s what has him going. In the days leading up to this moon, Steve had been ravenous.

His hands grabbing you every chance they got, tossing you around this apartment like you were just a chew toy for him to clench between his teeth and shake.

He’s had you every which way, wherever he wanted, whenever that primal need hit him. And you were still thinking about it; his name slipping off of your tongue like a prayer, the metronome of your headboard hitting the wall, how you’d woken up to him already inside of you…

Steve is already stepping past you by the time you shake your head clear of those memories. He settles into the bath water and lets out a groan of relief, one not unlike the sounds he’d been making yesterday afternoon.

Steam dampens his hair and causes it to stick to his face, but you think he looks nice like this — a little vulnerable. He always likes when you sit by the edge of the tub and cup water in your hands to pour over his chest, so you do just that.

You move to the side of the porcelain basin and ease your hands into the water, getting comfortable with the temperature before ladeling a handful of it over his skin.

Steve settles back against the wall, finally accepting your touch. He closes his eyes and allows you to alternate between scoops of steaming water and rakes of your fingernails across his chest.

Eventually you abandon the hand back, instead navigating your palm from shoulder to shoulder, tracing your nails down his sternum and over his stomach, from hip to hip, repeating the process in reverse and then all over again.

You know what the man likes. He’s taught you well, refusing to accept your care on any other terms.

You think he’s dozed off — hell, you’ve nearly done so yourself — when you feel the roll of his hips. Steve shifts against your touch, coaxing your hand further down his abdomen to brush the dark curls that float there.

“Mm… feels good.” He whimpers.

Steve is never in the mood the morning after a moon. He’s always too sore, too cranky. You don’t want to push your luck, so your hand roams back up the trail of hair that leads to his bellybutton, hardly making it halfway before you feel his loose grip circling your wrist.

Your eyes snap up, and Steve’s bloodshot gaze is fixed on you. He looks very much like a wounded animal, ready to bite at the threat of danger but still begging for relief.

Slowly, without muttering a word, Steve leads your hand beneath the surface of the water.

He closes your fist around the base of his cock and then allows himself to relax again, but you feel the strain of muscles between his hips, how tight they’re strung. You want to give him that release.

Beneath the tinted pink bath water, you begin to move your hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, up and down his length. Squeezing just as tightly as you know he likes. And he rewards you with a gentle sigh, a sign that you’re doing good.

“That’s it, baby.” He breathes.

Heat rushes between your legs. This isn’t about you though, so you suppress that need. You squeeze your thighs together and focus on the feeling of his slick skin beneath your fingertips, how velvety soft and warm he is to the touch.

Your thumb drags over his swollen head as you finish your first stroke, and Steve rewards you greatly.

“Fuck…” His voice is deep and raspy, fingers clenching at the edge of the tub as he holds onto his composure. “Fuck, yes. Good girl. Faster.”

Your heart dips in your chest and you stutter for a moment before obeying his order. Then you pick up the pace, your hand moving more quickly down the thick, wet length of him and back up again.

With every dip and curve of his shaft, you can’t help but to imagine how it feels inside of you. He could choose any hole. Wherever he wants you, he could have it.

“Was thinkin’ about this all night, you know.” He muses, his breathy voice that of a siren pulling you beneath the waves. “Could smell your wet fucking cunt from the edge of town. Every time you slipped your hand into your panties I felt like I was going fuckin’ feral. Lucky I didn’t do something we’d both regret.”

That heat between your thighs spreads up your abdomen, radiating throughout your core. Steve can smell everything during werewolf week; when you’re horny, when you’re ovulating, when you’re bleeding. You should’ve known better than to tease him like that.

You twist your hand around his girth, jerking him off just as you typically do when he’s halfway down your throat.

You prefer him in your throat. There’s something cathartic about it — about your eyes welling up with tears as you struggle to take it all, gazing up at him through bleary vision and watching as he pumps himself into your mouth.

“Get in.”

You don’t hear him, you’re too preoccupied with the view of his cock throbbing between your fingers.

Steve’s hand shoots forward, circling the back of your neck and jerking you toward him. Before you realize what’s happening, his lips are smashed against yours. Teeth and all. Tongue slipping into your mouth. It takes you a beat to respond, and then you melt into his touch.

“Get in, angel.” He repeats, words honeyed and saccharine against your lips. As if you need convincing. “Make me feel good. Fucking please. Only you know how.”

You hardly break your kiss to pull the shirt over your head, losing your panties along the way as you climb over the wall of the bathtub and sink into the water that’s far too hot for your flesh. It burns. You’ll be pink when you get out, but the pain is diluted by the overwhelming pleasure of Steve slipping his hands beneath your ass and moving you exactly where he needs you to be.

His cock bumps against your core, sliding between your slick folds to nestle against your swollen clit. TV static begins to fill your brain and you’re moving on impulse, instinct. Lovemaking is an art that the two of you have perfected together.

“I want it.” You whine with your head laid against his chest, bloodied water drifting up and down your chin with every subtle movement like the push and pull of the tides.

“What do you want? Tell me.” He asks, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh.

Steve grips the base of his cock with his other hand and teases your entrance, sliding the head through your arousal and pushing himself inside of your weeping pussy just enough for you to feel his stretch.

You drag your teeth along his collarbone, hips burning as you hold yourself above him. You know better than to take before being given permission.

“Want your cock, daddy.” You press a chaste kiss to his throat, searching for the artery there that’s pumping with hot, nectarine blood.

A baritone growl rumbles from his chest, it vibrates you so nicely. He pulls his palms from beneath you, encircling them instead loosely around your waist and tilting his forehead down to meet yours.

“Take it, baby. It’s yours.” He whispers, pressing his lips too briefly against yours.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but you’re already sinking down on his cock. Opening yourself up around him. Stretching to your absolute limits just to accommodate his satisfaction.

Steve’s veins drag along your inner walls with every disappearing inch, his nails digging into the small of your back as his mouth parts slightly and eyes glaze over with want.

“Mine?” You repeat, nearing the base of his cock.

You can feel him in your stomach, head stroking that perfect spot at the back of your pussy with every gentle rock of your hips. You’re just waiting for him to say it.

Steve nods. “All yours. Fuck, it’s all yours, angel.”

You need no further instruction, especially when the heat of your clit brushes against the collection of sodden hair at the base of his cock. It’s that tiny fraction of extra attention you crave to dull the ache.

Steve grunts low when he bottoms out, surrounding you with a gentle wave of steaming water as he flexes his hips up, up and up again. Trying to somehow fit even more of himself inside you, bullying his way in, carving out a hole in your abdomen.

You anchor yourself to his chest, pushing as he pulls, the splashing of the now overflowing bath water surrounding you both being a companion to the collective shaky huffs and bitten curse.

Steve sighs, something so sweet, that gentle part of him you miss a little too much during this stage of the cycle. He flexes his arms then and pulls you in real close, chest to chest, your skin tacky against one another.

You place a kiss along the column of his throat, and you can taste the dirt and sweat and blood that’d been brought to the surface the night before. It’s dirty. It’s raw and a little bit feral, but you stick your tongue out anyways just to taste it because it’s part of him.

“Gonna cum inside you…” He bites out your name a little mean, and it’s almost a warning.

You feel your sleek inner walls contract around him at the thought and on instinct try to lift yourself away, but Steve has you in a stronghold.

“No.” He thrusts up again, water spilling onto the floor. “Let me, baby — ah — let me fill you up. I just need to smell your pretty, fertile cunt full of my seed. Lay still.”

Against your better judgment, you do as he says. You lay still against his chest, taking his thrusts, moaning his name into the atmosphere and riding out the ethereal swirl of stars and colors bursting in your vision as your eyes roll back in your head.

The rope in your abdomen is being pulled tighter and tighter with every stroke of his cock, with the slam of his throbbing head against your cervix. You can feel it threatening to snap.

And then it snaps.

Steve grabs your hips and pushes your core as far down as he can, stuffing his cock into your womb, releasing the first of many ropes of cum deep into your cervix.

He lets out a guttural moan that drowns out your shallow breaths, fingers digging into your flesh as his load overflows and spills out around his girth.

You float in that state of Nirvana for some time, longer than you can keep track of. By the time the fog clears from your head, the water is lukewarm and dirty.

Steve is stroking your pink skin with the tips of his fingers and you can feel his steady breaths blowing through your hair like a gentle spring breeze.

He kisses your temple every few seconds, aware that you sometimes need just as much care on these days as he does.

“It’s gonna stick.” He says.

He’s still inside of you, and you don’t have any plans of making him pull out.

“I know.”

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🫶🏻

#no but pls go read my wife’s stuff over on ao3 she is literally perfection personified #her writing is so gorgeous #steve harrington #werewolf steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #my fics #fic collab #steve harrington blurb #x reader

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