#soft crocodile??

[shegetsburned]

no, but like, crocodile letting himself be vulnerable with his s/o.

in different ways, he discreetly shows he can be vulnerable with you and you only.

he’ll shower and take baths with you knowing he’s the weakest when he’s in contact with water.

he removes his hook when he prefers to be gentle with you, even though we all know he can be gentle with it as well. maybe it’s a way to show that you don’t have to be scared. i mean, at this point, he’s so used to people being terrified of him.

he lets you touch his scar, answering your many questions about them loving the curiosity in your gaze while listening. when you gently caress your thumb against the stitches along his cheeks and nose he can feel his heart pump faster.

just thinking about crocodile being cold but so loving at the same time. he can let his guard down whenever he’s with you. that’s what you mean to him. ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

[panrao]

Spoilers, it's dysphoria

[humans-are-tasty]

[clockwayswrites]

I shared this on the dead on main server, but just for all of your brain itches also:

So there's Danny-suddenly a halfa- by definition both alive and dead. He is two things that are diametrically opposed. They cannot exist at the same time, so they don't.

Every time Danny goes ghost, he dies again. Each time the rings of light engulf him he has a moment again of being electrocuted to death. Phandom greatly enjoys giving Danny Lichtenberg scars, but electric shock has other common symptoms such as hearing loss, tremors, and seizures...

...all things Danny faces every time he comes back to life.

It takes them awhile to put it all together- that transforming and fighting makes it all worse- and by then Danny's been through rounds of medication for his seizures that do nothing and has a permanent level of hearing loss. (And Ancients does the hearing loss explain some of his troubles with school.)

Part of Danny is tempted, each and ever time, to stay a ghost where he doesn't feel the constant ache of pain and trembling muscles and muted world. Part of him is tempted to stay dead.

But he pulls through it. Things settle with the ghosts. Danny is able to hang up Phantom and being a hero and instead focusing on living. The seizures stop, the tremors and pain have good days and bad, Tucker helped him make some amazing hearing aides... he lives.

He gets an internship with the Wayne Foundation and their outreach helping children left permanently injured by the attacks in Gotham- inspired in part by Jason Todd-Wayne's own partial hearing loss from an explosion.

When they meet, neither of them quite know just how deeply the other person can understand what they've been through.

[fanaticsnail]

When We Wake

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,300+

Synopsis: Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.

Themes: established relationship, sir Crocodile x reader, gn!reader - non gendered descriptors, suggested nudity, kisses, confessions of love, sir Crocodile is soft for you, romance, romantic imagery, morning kisses, lazy kisses.

Notes: @carrotsunshine wanted a lovestruck Crocodile to read when she finished work today. I had no choice, my hands were bound and I stayed up past midnight again getting it done. While Croco is not one of the regular characters to write for, I did find myself falling for him a little in this fic. @since-im-already-here suggested the song, because smol-snail is a queen. Was written on my phone.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita

Song: Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez, Em Beihold

Falling asleep, content within the arms of a lover is a luxury Sir Crocodile never knew he could afford. Although extremely wealthy, he deemed himself unworthy of such an exuberant opulence. For all his shortcomings in his youth, clawing with his right hand while grappling with his left hook to be within the lap of comfort all Berry could buy: this small slice of the heavens he carved for himself with you was priceless.

It was not so dissimilar for you. You had never known a love as passionate, as heated, nor as deep a connection as the one you shared with Sir Crocodile. He was your world, and you were his. These few moments together, before the world drew first breath and the symphony of birdsong would sing to welcome the dawn, you lay in complete syncronancy.

Your heartbeats would thump to the same rhythm, your lungs extend as you drew breath in the same soothing inhale before softly exhaling in unison. If one of you shifted to rotate, splayed fingertips would search in yearning to find each other's warmth within the night: shifting blankets to adjust the heat for one another accordingly.

If you fell out of rhythm together, after a night of sound, blissful slumber, and one of you woke first: the other would gaze fondly at the lover they had taken.

When Sir Crocodile awoke first, his right hand would rise from its position against your hip, slowly raking his fingers delicately along your skin. His calloused hand was coarse and rough, but his fingers were always soft and gentle for you.

Finally, as his fingers reach your shoulders, he massages your shoulder tenderly before raking his forearm over your body and tucking your slumbering form firmly secured against his chest. His eyes were half-hooded, gazing with the softest flutter of his lengthy eyelashes down at you.

“You are so precious to me, my moon,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a tender kiss softly against your hair, “A bright light that guides me through such horrors within my darkened past.” You barely stir within your sleep, unaware such deep, devoted confessions were being freely gifted from the smiling lips of your lover.

“You are the blood that swells my heart,” his breath tickled your temple as his scarred cheek nuzzled against the crown of your head, “It would be too simple a thing to kill for you, as it would be to die for you.”

Unconsciously, your body began to burrow into his chest within your slumber. A soft moan expelled itself from between your lips as you reveled in the contact of your bare skin against his own. His final confession was whispered like a prayer into your ear.

“You command my very soul, my spirit is yours to do with what you will,” he smiled as he felt you stirring within his arms, “Should you toy with me, torture me, or choose to trust me: either way, I am yours, and I will live my life for you.”

Upon hearing his words, your immediate response upon waking was to press a kiss within the hollow flesh of his jugular notch. His breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as a rumbled groan in bliss swelled within his chest.

“As I am yours, my beautiful Crocodile.”

Should you find yourself to be the first to rise, your breath would hitch as your eyes met with his face. Within his slumber, he managed to break away from your embrace. Lying on his back, his hair splayed down over his face, you notice the deep furrow of his brows and the soft shudder of a snarl.

Softly and cautiously, you draw up your hands over his broad chest to hover over his face. The bright lightning-sheen of his healed scar illuminated within the soft light of the morning. You slowly lean over him, your chest lying flush against his as you straddle his waist.

You splay your forearms over his chest, elbows barely reaching the shoulders of the large man as you lay your ear flush against his chest. The rapid beat of his heart began to slow, a deep, sleepy inhale of his breath sucked in through his lips and departed softly through his nose.

“You are the most precious thing to me, my beautiful Crocodile,” you confessed your deep devotion into his chest, “No gold, jewels, nor Berry could ever meet you as equal.”

Sweeping your cheek away from his chest, you brushed your nose against his chest before beginning a trail of soft and lazy kisses over his pectorals. For each kiss you planted, a confession was whispered into his skin.

“You are the greatest man I have ever known,” you pressed a deep kiss against his clavicle bone, “Your fierce devotion to me is only outmatched by my own to you.”

The swell of his chest beneath your body indicated he was beginning to stir within his deepest rest. He sighed as he raised his right arm to unconsciously pull you closer into his chest. You elevated your chin to gaze up into his dark, violet eyes that had barely split apart between the curtain of his eyelashes.

“You are my closest confidant, my most ferocious protector,” you pressed a lengthy kiss against his jaw before brushing the hair that shrouded his face from full view, “You are all mine.” His eyes were sleepily gazing down at you, feeling the shift of your body flush against his own.

“As you are all mine.”

But should you find yourselves back within that perfect synchrony, on very rare occasions, your eyelashes would flutter as the world around faded into view. The world, as both of you knew it within your souls, was within the arms of one another. The only world that mattered to you both in those fleeting moments, before obligation and commitments called to you; was only, and always, each other.

As your joint eyelids rose together, your glassy orbs found their peace within each others' gaze. You were always the first to smile, where he was always the first to reach out to pull your body against his.

It was always up for debate as to who uttered those sacred words first. The three sought after and holy words that bound you together as one life, one body, one heart, and one soul. Those simple words that had the most mighty and hardened soldiers stutter and stumble over them in their fluster.

Immediately meeting with your smiling lips, Sir Crocodile swooped down and captured them beneath his own. Always slow, the angle of his jaw would alternate with his chin extending down and rotating to depict his heated passion. The bridge of his nose brushed against your own, the rumble of his moan expelled within your mouth as yours fled into his.

Parting your lips, you sought out more contact with your body pressed firmly against your passionate lover. You hooked your arms over his neck as he braced his right arm and left forearm around your waist.

He rolled you over his chest, before using the propulsion of the swinging motion of your body to pin you beneath him. You squealed into his mouth in shocked joy, his lips never breaking their deep contact against your own. With your lover now between your legs, you clawed at his shoulders to tug him closer.

The deep furrow of his brow, and sharp inhale of breath through his nose, had you enchanted by his enthusiastic welcome to commence the day. Almost begrudgingly, he finally split contact away from your lips to smile down at your position beneath him.

Taking a moment to silently acknowledge each other, you slowly laced your hands within the ink-black strands at the back of his head just as he leaned down to press his forehead against your own. Your whispers were almost inaudible, this confession being so scared you both dare not present it to undesirable ears.

This confession was just meant for only each other, your lips brushing briefly as you both relayed your devotion in perfect, unified symphony.

“I love you.”

[plush-with-love]

Source ~ Sorbet Jungle

Croconana

[breakingpengui1]

breakfast with you

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

May I have Crocodile x GN!Reader hcs? Any soft ones? Just any and all silly hcs you may think about. 😊🫶Love your writing, I hope you feel better darling!! Much love to you.

HELLO???

Oh you absolutely CAN have some headcanons. I love Crocodile a little too much, so this is right up my alley. <3 thank you so much!!!!! Ilysm

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Word Count: 381

•Very big fan of having you wear his coat, regardless of how ridiculous it may look given the height difference ( if there is one ). Seeing you in it just scratches something in his brain.

•Protective. Very, very protective- one could argue that it's nearly obsessive with how he holds you close, that hook curved around your waist. Never to harm, never- only to hold. To better shield you with his own form.

( Fits the trope of “I would kill for them.” VERY well. )

•Buys you jewelry. No, no- nothing gaudy, gods no. But those delicate golden chains with a precious gemstone dangling from? Rings with woven bands that are inlaid with precious jewels? Just casually, too. He'll come in to your shared suite at the end of the day with a black box tied with a ribbon. Surprise.

•He enjoys hearing you read out loud. When the two of you are alone and he's going over The ledgers for Rain Dinners? Or, later on, for the Cross Guild? Sitting before his desk while you relax on a chaise lounge, reading your book- or even better, something of importance to him. He could fall asleep to the sound.

( and has. )

•Loves, Loves, LOVES when you cook for him. Claims that nothing will ever taste as good as the food that his amore makes. HOWEVER- when it comes to making certain dishes, he will take over. He's very particular about sauces, you see? If you don't use enough salt…

•Has gifted you a Bananawani.

•Who needs a scary dog when you have Sir Crocodile two steps behind you whenever you go somewhere? Anything you want, you get- regardless of the price.

•…can and will fall asleep with his head on your lap if you brush your fingers through his hair. Sometimes, it's nice to be taken care of.

•He Does Not Smoke In Your Rooms. in his office? Sure. Outside? Of course. But when you are in your bedroom? Not a cigar in sight. ( He doesn't want your clothes to smell like cigar smoke. )

•And a hint of spice-

He truly does love the view from below…

[aimbutmiss]

I think Buggy would be really good at dealing with Luffy's adhd, because Shanks also had it.

He doesn't get frustrated when Luffy's mind wanders and he loses focus. Instead, he uses little tricks to keep his attention on him, keeping his talking short so the boy doesn't lose interest and fall asleep or walk off like he usually does. To any outsider who knows how Luffy is, it's impressive as hell. But to Buggy, it's just second nature.

[mjrtaurus]

Okay but Dragon seeing Crocodile for the first time after his transition, gently cupping his face, his eyes locked with Croc's, and giving the softest, most enamored sounding "look at you..."

And Croc fucking cries.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Crocodile takes his fat basement wife shopping for clothes and is disappointed and irritated that none of the stores have anything in her size

Cue custom made wardrobe where everything fits her perfectly (that is the dream)

Or maybe he gives her a bunch of magazine catalogues and tells her to list down what outfits she likes. And his poor soggy wife obeys but thinks the whole time “this is cute but it won’t fit me” or “I’d be too scared to wear this in public but I’d like to imagine it”

She doesn’t think much of it but a few weeks later every single item is in her wardrobe and to her size (with a few outfits that he wants her in thrown in)

Oh goodness, stop, that's too cute. Are you trying to kill me? 😭 I can see him taking you shopping and getting furious when they don’t have anything in your size, like what kind of retailer is this supposed to be? Ridiculous  - but that would happen if he were normal about you. And he really isn’t, haha. When it comes to Crocodile, basement really means basement - you’re a liability, a weakness. Not something other people need to know about.

tw.yandere, fem + fat reader, basement wivery

He practically slaps those catalogues down and says that you can get the whole thing if you so wish - but pick something, storms off and doesn’t even wait for an answer. It’s a treat, a reward - and those are rare coming from him, especially when it concerns your appearance. You have very little say in what clothes he puts you in, everything down to your socks is picked out for you. It’s important to him that you two match, even if no one except for him (and occasionally Ms. All Sunday) gets to see you. It’s all about his ego and entertainment and power. So you being allowed to pick out something you like? You must have been on exceptionally good behavior for that to happen. It’s just a shame that the models in the magazines don’t look like you at all, even if they have the clothes in your size. You feel more and more tense the longer you skim through the little booklets - nervous because you’re sure nothing is going to fit you well enough and anxious to voice those same concerns to him. He’ll just call you ungrateful and rip the catalogues from your hands again, maybe even punish you for being so selfish and spoiled, and that’s the last thing you want. You’re almost back to crying when you’re done building a million what-ifs and scenarios in your mind, it’s that overwhelming. It’s hard not to feel rushed between him waiting on you to drop the papers back into his lap and being insecure about your body. When you finally swallow down that big lump in your throat and simply circle some of the things you think are safe bets, he’s already impatiently chewing his cigar at his desk. So when he makes a grand show of presenting with your picks some weeks later, you’re going to be more than surprised to find some more… risqué pieces among them, things you definitely didn’t mark. And no matter how much your ears burn or how shaky you get, he’ll have you model every single item. He doesn’t care that you’re embarrassed, he gave you a gift. And you better honor that - not only by showing him just how snug some pieces are, but also by giving him a nice and proper thank you. See, he’s generous - you don’t have to ride him for it (although he certainly wouldn’t say no to that), some words of gratitude and a kiss on the cheek are enough.  

Play pretend with him, even for a little while, let him be your husband and he can be so, so good to you.

[abbeyofcyn]

This is Welcome! My grandpa gave him to me for my 10th birthday I think. He used to have an orange band on his neck that had Welcome stitched in white on it but my mom cut it off when she went crazy :(

Anyway I'm sure you're going to get a lot of Leos and Donnies so here's one for the plushie king himself Raph!

Leo is actually very unpopular haha. Donnie and Raph are getting the most love.

[soundless-storm]

I've been living in crochawk hell for a while now, so I decided to do something about it and feed myself and the other like 5 people who live here.

So yeah, I tried... something

idk man

be gay, do crime

[you might want to adjust your screen brightness up a bit... Yeah, I know, nobody wants that. But sadly I am a dramatic bastard that likes shadows a little too much, I'm sorry]

(crops under the cut)

[jellycatsdaily]

Jellycat of the Day | 4th January 2024

↳ Diddle Croc | 2023 Retired Design

"This crocodile rocks!"

[silver-vanrouge]

I saw a tiktok created by @dust_hollow (go watch the videos there obvious what their about) talking about his theories on what Lilia’s inspired by and I was up all night thinking about what he said. Dust spoke about how he’s not just inspired by the three good faeries but the lilac faerie from Mathew Borne’s “sleeping beauty, a gothic romance.” It makes complete sense after I watched the ballet because… well I’m not going to spoil it for you,

and the three good faeries are the resemblance of the Lilac faerie in the original ballet (in the sense of them both changing the curse from death to sleep) or so I assume. Not only that but after reading “Mistress of all Evil” by Sarina Valentine, I noticed he was like Nanny to Malleus in the sense of calming him down and taking care of him as a baby dragon, like how Nanny in the book raises Maleficent like her own daughter even though shes only found Maleficent with her ravens which brings me to my next point.

I believe he’s based off of Diavel (not specifically Diablo from the cartoon Sleeping Beauty) From the movie Maleficent. And no Diablo and Diavel aren’t the same characters and I’m not arguing with anyone about this I don’t care. I believe Lilia is based off of Diavel from the live action because of the way he treats Malleus, he’s kinda like a father more than anything but I whole heartedly believe if Malleus (or his mother I’ll get there later) asks then he shall receive. He’s inspired by the goons as-well, along with Sebek and his grandfather. Lilia is often frightened by Melenors temper and even gets hit by her lightning (lovingly) at some point! And he knows Malleus most likely has her temper as well. When it comes to trying to figure out what he’s based off of I believe it’s a whole mixture of things.

[acescorazon]

A continuation of this ^^^^^^ ((posting a screenshot of the original ask because before the fic/new series didn't have a name lol))

Title: Changes

Pairing: Cross Guild

Rating: M

Chapter 2/?

Word count: 2385

Warnings: Crocodile, Violence, Explicit Language.

Chapter excerpt:

“Hey, Clown, what the fuck is this?!”   

Don’t tell his crew this, but, Buggy isn’t the brave pirate that they think he is! As soon as he hears that all too familiar cold, emotionless, voice belonging to Crocodile, he tenses. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to fucking die. Buggy doesn’t turn around, he’s too afraid to look at Crocodile. He doesn’t want to see what kind of face he’s making right now, but he knows he’s probably red in the face and glaring at him. Buggy feels hot again, and now a little dizzy, like he might faint all of a sudden. He doesn’t want to die, not like this.

Before Crocodile can approach him, before he can so much as say another word, Buggy’s feet are acting on their own accord. They lift up off the ground and carry him away from this newfound threat as fast as possible. He briefly wonders if he should risk taking one of his ships out to sea anyways, or if he should just hide somewhere and wait until he can figure out how to get off the island, but he doesn’t know what’s the right thing to do and he’s terrified of making the wrong choice.

[Previous Part]

Buggy is doomed. He’s going to die. He’s really going to die. He feels like he’s waiting for the end of the world to come, and he can’t breathe. This is his last day on earth. His men made sure that stupid Cross Guild flyer was distributed all across the globe, and it’s only a matter of time before Crocodile and Mihawk catch wind of what the flyer looks like. Oh, Buggy is in deep shit. He’s been wandering around the island for over an hour in a panicked daze, checking his ships, and hoping that one of them is in good enough condition to use for an escape, but the fucking Marines either sunk or severely damaged every ship he’s got.

There are tears in Buggy’s eyes already, he’s so scared to find out what Crocodile is going to do to him once he sees that damn flyer. He has to go, he needed off this island, like, a whole day ago, and he doesn’t know why he didn’t leave before all this could happen…oh, wait, that’s right, he doesn’t have any functioning ships thanks to the Marines… Good grief, what did he do to deserve this? Buggy’s going to die. Crocodile is going to murder him, he’s going to murder him and no one’s going to stop him because all of his men think that Crocodile is a hero and on their side. They don’t know Buggy borrowed money from Crocodile and….

“Hey, Clown, what the fuck is this?!”

   

Don’t tell his crew this, but, Buggy isn’t the brave pirate that they think he is! As soon as he hears that all too familiar cold, emotionless, voice belonging to Crocodile, he tenses. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to fucking die. Buggy doesn’t turn around, he’s too afraid to look at Crocodile. He doesn’t want to see what kind of face he’s making right now, but he knows he’s probably red in the face and glaring at him. Buggy feels hot again, and now a little dizzy, like he might faint all of a sudden. He doesn’t want to die, not like this.

Before Crocodile can approach him, before he can so much as say another word, Buggy’s feet are acting on their own accord. They lift up off the ground and carry him away from this newfound threat as fast as possible. He briefly wonders if he should risk taking one of his ships out to sea anyways, or if he should just hide somewhere and wait until he can figure out how to get off the island, but he doesn’t know what’s the right thing to do and he’s terrified of making the wrong choice.

As Buggy runs for his life, he hears Crocodile shouting at him from a distance, which is to be expected, but he also faintly hears a pair of footsteps growing closer and closer to him as if there’s something or someone right behind him, chasing after him. God, please don’t be who I think it is. Let it be a bug. Let it be Richie. Let it be anyone, but…  

Buggy turns his head slowly, looking over his shoulder and through blurry vision. He screams in absolute horror the moment he locks eyes with a pair of piercing yellow eyes that are right behind him, “Hawkeye, I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” He screams, trying to run away from both Crocodile and Mihawk now. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” No matter how many times he apologizes, Mihawk doesn’t reply. There’s a look of disgust and what can only be described as pure hatred on Mihawk’s face as he reaches behind him and grabs the sword off his back.

No, no, no!

Buggy splits his body into pieces before Mihawk can slash him with his sword, “Mihawk! Hawk…Hawkeye! Please.” It doesn’t have to be like this! The last thing Buggy wants to do is fight or get pummeled. It’s just a flyer, can’t Mihawk and Crocodile be more reasonable? Do they have to be so angry?! Can’t they talk about it like three adults?! “Mihawk, I’M SO SORRY.” He screams, dodging another slash from Mihawk’s sword. He continues to run despite the fact that his lungs are starting to burn, knowing that if he stops, things are as good as over for him.

All of a sudden, A cloud of sand engulfs him. It’s as if he ran right into the center of a sandstorm, and sand gets in his eyes, in his nose, and in his mouth. He starts coughing violently, unsure of where the hell all the sand even came from until he feels a very firm hand wrap around his throat. He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe…

“Croc.…” He tries calling out for Crocodile, unable to even see the other man, but he knows somewhere in the back of his mind that all this sand and the hand around his neck right now can only belong to Crocodile. The grip around his neck only tightens as Buggy tries to beg for his life, and Buggy can’t think. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s dead. He’s so dead. Out of instinct, and instinct alone, he splits his body into pieces again with the goal of getting Crocodile to let go of his neck, which he does… But a moment later, Crocodile tangles his fingers through Buggy’s hair, “Fuckin coward.” he hisses, and Buggy’s close to bawling his eyes out. He can fix the flyer, he can have a new one designed, he can do anything Crocodile wants him to as long as he doesn’t kill him.    

The sandy cloud around him slowly disappears now that Crocodile has him by his head, but sand is still burning Buggy’s eyes, nose, and throat as he cries, “Please.. I’m sorry. I didn’t know tha--”

Never in Buggy’s thirty something years of life has he ever been punched in the face with a hook, until now. Crocodile’s gold hook catches him right on the eyebrow, almost striking his eye but not quite, regardless the pain is indescribable and as soon as the cold metal makes contact with his skin, he lets out a pained shriek, “Crocodile…I…wait…” he mutters, honestly feeling like his brain got a little shaken from one punch from Crocodile, “Wait, please, don’t kill m---” Crocodile punches him again, and this time his hook does make contact with his eye, and it’s more painful than any strike that Buggy’s ever been dealt before.

 Don’t wanna die…Buggy thinks, pathetically.

“Wanna punch this piece of shit too?” Crocodile asks, suddenly, raising Buggy’s head up in the air. Buggy opens his one good eye, realizing that Mihawk is now standing in front of them, still looking as pissed off as before. Mihawk is a man of honor, right..? Mihawk wouldn’t beat an already beaten and bruised clown, would he?

“Do you even have to ask such a pointless question?”

…

Okay, wow, Mihawk Isn’t a man of honor after all! He and Crocodile beat Buggy’s face in, then Crocodile carries Buggy’s decapitated head back inside Buggy’s main tent like it’s nothing but a sack of shit. Buggy’s face hurts so much and he can taste blood at the back of his mouth…and he didn’t want to die before, but now… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “Can’t fucking believe this shit.” Crocodile mutters as he and Mihawk have a seat on the luxurious couch in the center of the tent.  At first Buggy thought they were just pissed because of the flyer incident, but it turns out that they’re mad about that and because…because…

Buggy’s one of the four emperors now?!

Now if this was announced when he wasn’t being brutally assaulted, maybe he’d be overcome with joy by that announcement. The government feared him so much that they made him one of the four emperors and he should be happy, but since it was announced while Crocodile was stepping on his skull at the time, he didn’t have much to celebrate about. Even now, as Crocodile and Mihawk continue to hold him hostage essentially, he can’t enjoy his new power and status. “I’m so sorry,” Buggy apologizes for what has to be the hundredth time within the last hour. Crocodile and Mihawk don’t care if he apologizes though, they hate his guts, and they've just been insulting him and humiliating him nonstop, and their cruel words repeat in Buggy’s throbbing head, over and over again:

“Worthless fuckin clown.”

“It blows my mind that they made you one of the four emperors.”

“Can’t do a goddamn thing.”  

“You’re pathetic, stop crying.”

“Fucking crybaby.”

There are so many other things that the two have said to him within a short span of time, so many vile, hate filled things that he can’t remember it all, but everything hurts the same. And some things even hurt more than being punched in the face. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “Please, spare me…” Mihawk makes a comment about how Buggy’s the only man who’s become an emperor by just apologizing after that, while Crocodile goes on about how he and Mihawk are the ones who founded Cross Guild, questioning why everyone thinks Buggy is the boss instead of them, and Buggy whines pathetically. He didn’t want any of this! He was honestly fine just being an errand boy.  He doesn’t know why the government made him one of the four emperors either! And He didn’t know his men were going to make their flyer look like that.

 Everything’s been out of Buggy’s control, but they won’t listen to him. 

To make things worse, that insufferable traitor, Galdino, is right by Crocodile’s side, once again offering him his loyalty. After all the two have been through, he’s really just going to side with Crocodile again…? It’s mind boggling. He does see what kind of situation Buggy’s in right now, right? And he’s just going to ignore it all and pretend that Crocodile is some kind of larger than life superhero?   

Buggy doesn’t get to bicker with Galdino for long even though he wants to, because Crocodile is back to aggressively questioning him, asking about the flyer design as he shoves one of said flyers into his mouth. Buggy didn’t know any of this was going to happen! He tries to explain everything to Crocodile, again, hardly making sense because one, he has a busted lip, two, there’s something in his mouth, and three, because his mouth is moving a mile a minute. “I’m sorry, I’msosorry. So, so sorry.”

“SHUT UP.”

Having Crocodile screaming at him only makes Buggy sob harder, he’d be trembling violently if he still had his body right now. From his side, he faintly hears Mihawk sighing, “Maybe having him take all the spotlight off of us wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world…”

“You for real?!” Crocodile asks, seemingly in disbelief at Mihawk’s suggestion.

“Very. Let him be the center of attention since he wants it so badly, and let the world government worry about him instead of us. And if he becomes an inconvenience, we can just get rid of him.”

“Ha. I like that idea.”

Those brutes finally release Buggy after that, and whilst still a little dazed and shaken up, Buggy makes the announcement to all his men that Cross Guild is not only a thing, but that Mihawk and Crocodile are its chief officers, wondering where he went wrong in life at that very moment as he can still taste metallic in the back of his throat after his previous altercation.

His men are so…blind…and not in a literal sense. They cheer for the formation of Cross Guild, and Buggy can’t help but feel a little bitter because how can they be so…oblivious to what’s going on?

As soon as his announcement is finished, Crocodile orders Buggy to show him around the island better, meaning that Emptee Bluffs island is going to get three new permanent residents. Buggy is in desperate need of an ice pack but follows through with Crocodile’s cruel and unreasonable request, showing Crocodile, Daz, and Mihawk around the island, still in pain.

Crocodile is a man with many critiques, and Buggy finds that out quickly… “This place is like a fucking circus.” Well…Yes, yes it is. “It’s so tacky and tasteless… and It honestly gives me a headache. I’m not going to live in a damn tent forever.” Buggy holds the side of his head, listening to all of Crocodile’s complaints and criticisms, biting his tongue because he doesn’t want another ass beating. “I want my own private living quarters built, and I’ll also need an enclosure with a pond built.”

“...For what…?” Buggy asks cautiously.

“Pets.”

Buggy isn’t even going to ask Crocodile what kind of stupid pets he plans on bringing to the island, or why he needs a whole enclosure for them, instead he nods his head obediently and says he’ll see if he can find someone who can fulfill Crocodile’s requests. He’s kind of afraid that Crocodile will take everything over and redesign the entire island after Buggy painstakingly had someone else set up all the tents  on the island and decorate it. He likes the way the island looks and doesn’t want someone to come and change everything overnight…

“Daz needs a better place to stay in too, so better make it two private living quarters.”

Daz literally hasn’t said a word since he got to the island, how can Crocodile know what Daz wants, or rather needs in this case?! “What about you, Hawkeye?” Crocodile asks, lighting up his cigar, “You got anything you want?” Buggy feels like he’s going to cry again. God, these people have already beaten the shit out of Buggy and taken control over the island in less than two days, why do they just keep wanting more and more?

Mihawk looks around, taking a moment to think before replying to Crocodile’s previous question, “The circus tents are rather…tasteless.. but I can make do with my current accommodations.”Oh, god. They’re literally the worst people Buggy’s ever met in his life. How is he supposed to make this whole Cross Guild thing work with them? And, more importantly, how is he supposed to live on the same island as them?!

((A/N: Okay, now the story will get a little goofy and silly and separate from canon (as you can probably tell.) because Oda won't give us more Cross Guild content >:((( The only other additional thing i'm probably going to add to the story that's also canon is 1. The clown flagship and probably the part where Buggy's like my ex is going after the one piece and so are we boys uwu!!! ))

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