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esthermitchell-author · 7 months

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"For His World" (Fan Fiction Inspired by Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett)

A.Z. Fell and Co. Bookshop, Soho, London -- 6 Years After Restructure

Queen's Somebody to Love filled the bookshop, along with a young girl's laughter. Aziraphale smiled indulgently as he closed the front door behind himself and stopped to take in the sight before him, letting the all-consuming adoration he felt sweep through him as he watched his demon/husband and their five-year-old daughter dance in a circle in the middle of the floor, Jemima's bare little feet resting with a trusting wiggle of toes atop Crowley's boots, her delicate little hands gripped carefully but securely in Crowley's larger ones.

Crowley's head was tipped forward, his shoulder-length hair -- he'd been growing it out a little more these past few years -- falling forward to mask his expression, but Aziraphale could feel the love pouring from the demon. Jem, for her part, was staring back up at her "lee-lee" with the absolute, unquestioning trust and love a child has for a parent who dotes on them.

They were the study of serenity, set to the backdrop of Freddie Mercury's voice, and the sight of them filled Aziraphale with so much tranquility and love he blinked his eyes against the sting of tears.

"Angel?" Crowley's head came up, a small, concerned frown marring his face as his gaze swept over Aziraphale. The music died abruptly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, love," Aziraphale assured him, even as he moved toward where Crowley and their daughter were now paused. A reassuring smile touched his lips, seeing the matching concern on both their faces. Jem was -- for all her innocent, angelic qualities -- becoming quite Crowley's little "mini-me" as the demon wryly referred to her. Out of Jem's earshot, of course.

Aziraphale leaned up to press a soft kiss to Crowley's lips, then dropped one on Jem's crown for good measure, before moving past them to deposit the small stack of books he carried on the counter behind them.

"Mrs. Cheng gave me some books for you, Jem. She said her daughter left them behind when she moved, and you might enjoy them." He patted the small stack of books, then moved toward his desk.

He heard Jem's happy squeal, the patter of little feet across the floor, followed by Crowley's chuckle from much closer behind him than humans would likely find settling. "As if we ever had a doubt she's your daughter, too."

Aziraphale lifted one eyebrow but didn't bother to turn. "I haven't a clue what you mean."

"Right." Crowley's voice murmured against his ear, even as the demon's arms slid around him, that long, lanky body pressing up against his own admittedly neither tall nor lean form. Not that it appeared to bother Crowley any, evidenced in the next moment as his demon nipped the side of his neck, groaned, and muttered, "Just like you have no idea what this body does to me."

"Crowley," he started to warn, aware that he hadn't flipped the sign on the door -- or the lock -- on his way in. The sound of the bell over the door finished his statement for him, and his demon backed off with one final kiss to his cheek.

"Only the stuff in the front of the store's for sale," Crowley was already saying as he sauntered toward the counter. They'd come to an agreement, when they decided to remain here at the bookshop after Jem's arrival, to stock the front of the shop with more modern books Aziraphale was quite happy to sell, while the older tomes he treasured so much were kept behind a new, longer counter, only to be leant out to those he could trust to take proper care of them -- or who were wary enough of his highly-protective husband to make certain they took proper care of them. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to, as Crowley liked to say.

"Crowley? Good to see you, mate!"

The voice -- familiar, but in the vague sort of way one recognized a voice they hadn't heard in a very long time -- had Aziraphale's head turning in consternation. He blinked in surprise, before his gaze went instantly to Crowley, gauging his love's reaction.

Crowley stood frozen in place, his face ashen in shock, and his body wracked with a fine tremor Aziraphale knew he was likely the only being in existence to be able to see. He dropped what he was doing and moved instantly to Crowley's side, twining their fingers together and letting his demon cling to him as he dealt with the reality of something Aziraphale was fairly certain Crowley had never let himself believe could be possible, before.

"Ah, Raphael." The newcomer, dressed in what looked like something a hipster might wear, his long, dreadlocked hair wound on top of his head and a Doctor Who inspired scarf twined around his dark throat, grinned at him. "Sorry to drop in unannounced. I was in the neighborhood on my way home and thought we could have a talk about that final phase of the Restructure. Save you the trip."

Aziraphale inclined his head slightly.

"Absolutely, Lord." Turning his attention to Crowley, he murmured, "Are you okay, love?"

Crowley blinked at long last and released the breath he'd been holding on a muttered, "Jesus."

Their visitor broke into a wide grin. "Been forever, mate."

One of Crowley's brows lifted, and a familiar smirk flickered at his lips, telling Aziraphale he'd be just fine, even before the demon quipped, "Didn't think you'd be a fucking hipster."

"Could've guessed you'd go Goth," Jesus immediately quipped back, before a gentle smile broke over his face. "But it's good to see you happy, again. You had us worried for a bit."

"'Us'?" Crowley's eyes narrowed, and Aziraphale gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He knew how his love felt about Upstairs. Even now.

"Mum and I." Apology shone in Jesus's dark eyes. "Wasn't ever supposed to work out that way. I tried to tell you, last we met..."

"Blurring the lines..." Crowley's attention came Aziraphale's way. "That's where I got the idea from, you know. During that jaunt around all the kingdoms of the world, this bastard told me I needed to stop worrying about whose side was whose, and just blur the lines a little." A small smile flickered at his lips. "Didn't know at the time he meant you."

Surprise jolted through Aziraphale. "So, when you brought it up after the Windmill Theatre... When did you figure it out?"

Crowley smirked, but his gaze was soft as he murmured, "Before I made it to the church. The idea of being too late was just... unthinkable."

The clearing of a throat drew their attention back to their visitor. Aziraphale chided himself internally for being a bad host. "Of course. We can discuss matters in the back room, Lord. Crowley, do you mind flipping the lock and checking on Jem?"

Crowley lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Aziraphale's, before letting go to snap his fingers, throwing the lock while simultaneously flipping the sign on the door to "closed." His goldenrod eyes narrowed momentarily, and he grinned. "Jemmy's reading to her dragons. I think we've got half an hour before she's either bored or out cold."

Jesus rounded the end of the counter, but rather than heading directly for the back room Aziraphale indicated, he stopped and held out his hand to Crowley, who eyed it warily before reaching out to grip the offered hand. Jesus gripped his hand, pulling him in for a friendly half-hug, and Aziraphale sighed inwardly at Crowley's tensed posture. His lovely-but-wary husband still didn't trust anything much from Heaven, except for him, Jemima, and maybe Muriel.

Then again, Crowley might just be a little shell-shocked because, up until now, Aziraphale was fairly certain his demon was utterly convinced Jesus was just another human, who'd been killed in some grand, ridiculous bet/game of God's. He probably should have assumed Jesus would turn up here, eventually, in his wanderings, and prepared Crowley for it.

"It really is good to see you," Jesus said, clasping Crowley's shoulder with his free hand. "And I'm really glad you and Raphael found your way back to each other."

"Aziraphale." His name gritted out of Crowley with a ferocity Aziraphale knew was his demon getting protective and slightly territorial. Crowley hated the name that reminded him Aziraphale was Supreme Archangel, now. If he was honest, he wasn't very partial to it, himself.

Jesus's brow lifted, and his gaze turned Aziraphale's way. "Really?"

"I only use that name in Heaven, Lord."

"Oh. My bad." Jesus released his hold on Crowley with an apologetic look and headed for the back room.

As soon as Jesus was out of earshot, Aziraphale felt Crowley's attention on him and turned to meet the demon's narrowed gaze.

"You think, in the last two thousand or so years, you might have mentioned he wasn't dead?"

Aziraphale winced. "Fair point. Honestly, I didn't know, myself, for a while."

"How long, angel?"

He sighed. "About sixty-five years, give or take."

"So you knew, when you brought me that holy water in 1967."

"Who do you think blessed it?" Aziraphale met his demon's gaze, then, saw the hurt in Crowley's eyes. "At the time, he was a hippie, backpacking his way through Europe. He'd been in the pub the night you were planning that heist for the holy water and showed up on my doorstep. He told me what you were planning, and that I needed to trust you -- that it was important you get the holy water. I didn't think, at the time, he meant for you to know he was even on Earth."

"I never really left."

They both turned at the sound of Jesus's voice, to find the dark-skinned man leaning up against the end of the bookcase between where they stood and the back room.

"Sorry," Jesus apologized, then shrugged.

"What do you mean, you never really left?"

"Crowley." Aziraphale laid a hand softly on his demon's chest, soothing him through touch.

"Nah. He's got a right to know, and he's right. It was a shitty thing for me to do." Jesus looked between them. "I mean, I left for a bit. Obviously. I needed a new body." He gestured to his current form. "I was gone about a decade, I guess. But it didn't sit right with me, knowing how I'd left things with a lot of people. Especially you, Crowley. And Judas. You both deserved better. By the time I convinced Mum I needed to come back, though, Judas was dead and you were gone. Took me a long time to track you down, and every time I got close, I just got the feeling showing up then would push a wedge between the two of you," he nodded toward them both, "and I wasn't about to do that. Mum was already losing Her shit because someone kept throwing a wrench in the works."

"The--" Crowley started, and Aziraphale tapped his chest in gentle reminder. They didn't use that name in their home. Aziraphale wasn't about to let the Metatron's evil color the air in this space ever again. He saw the instant apology flash in Crowley's eyes, before the demon muttered, "Sorry, angel."

"Anyway," Jesus continued, "I figured maybe I could push the two of you together, for once, and help a mate out at the same time. Guess it didn't work the way I planned, but I'm glad it worked out eventually. Now, we have things to discuss, yeah? I don't have a lot of time."

"Right," Crowley muttered, before his attention shot toward the stairwell, and Aziraphale knew instantly his demon sensed their daughter loitering curiously at the top of the stairs, even before Crowley smirked. "You go on, angel. I've got the starling."

Aziraphale nodded, and gestured Jesus toward the back room where they could discuss matters concerning Heaven. Crowley was more than capable of handling their mischievous offspring, whatever she was up to, now.

******

Roast'n'Records Coffeshop (Formerly Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death), Soho, London

"Well, if it isn't the prettiest angel in Soho," Mrs. Sandwich exclaimed as she turned from the counter, carrier full of coffees in hand, to smile at Jemmy as she took in the five-year-old's outfit of the day -- lavender shorts and a white top, over which she insisted on wearing a pair of iridescent fairy-style wings Maggie recently provided her. Which probably looked odd with the black ankle boots on her feet she wore everywhere they went because they look like yours, Lee-lee.

"I'm only half angel," Jemmy muttered under her breath, clinging to his hand as if affronted for his sake. Jemmy hadn't quite got the hang of the whole peopling thing, yet, and since she didn't say it loud enough anyone else -- including Mrs. Sandwich -- could hear her, Crowley didn't bother verbally correcting her attitude. He merely lifted a brow at her and tipped his shades down with one finger to meet her gaze. He knew she got the message by the guilty hang of her head before she peeked up at him in apology from behind long, strawberry-blonde ringlets, fluttering her lashes innocently in a look he was certain she picked up from Aziraphale.

To Mrs. Sandwich, Jemmy dutifully murmured a soft "Thank you" as the woman passed them on her way out, and he squeezed her hand just in time to curtail her impulse to stick her tongue out behind Mrs. Sandwich's back. He swallowed back a grin and pushed his shades back into place. Score a parenting point for being able to sense the offspring's brewing demonic antics.

Crowley glanced up at a chuckle from behind the counter, to find Nina watching them with a wry smile on her lips. Maybe he hadn't been quite quick enough, after all. He shrugged.

"Where's the other one, today?" she teased, even as she bent behind the counter for the chocolate milk they always kept on hand for Jemmy.

"Important meeting."

Nina's lifted one eyebrow in surprise, then flicked her gaze upward. "That lot?"

Crowley wasn't really sure he wanted to answer that. He wasn't even sure he actually knew what to say, in this case. "Not quite."

"Usual, for you?"

Crowley shook his head. He was fucking jittery enough. He assumed it was because of what he just learned. Last thing he needed, right now, was anything that would start those old, familiar spirals. Especially since he couldn't understand why the anxiety wasn't abating.

"Nah." He looked down at Jemmy. "Go show Maggie your fairy wings, poppet."

She grinned up at him, and he shook his head, already knowing what her next request would be. Jemima had been excited for the past couple of weeks since her wings started to come in. She wanted to show everyone, but the middle of a busy café was hardly the place, even if showing them to Maggie or Nina wouldn't be any big surprise to the women. He gave Jemmy's hand a little squeeze. "Just the fairy wings."

She sighed dramatically, and he suppressed a chuckle. He and Aziraphale were continually handing responsibility for their daughter's tendency to drama back and forth. Truth was, she probably had it in spades from both of them, but he wasn't about to admit that to his angel. Releasing Jemmy's hand, he watched her skip across the shop to where Maggie had her record counter set up, then turned back to Nina, to find the woman watching him with a small smile.

"Y'know, I didn't know what to make of you, when we first met," Nina said, sliding Jemmy's cup of chocolate milk across the counter and waving off his attempt to pay for it. She nodded across the road. "Either one of you. Took me a long time to process what happened, you know. Still seems surreal, sometimes."

Crowley shrugged but didn't bother to comment. He didn't like to think about that time, much. Losing Aziraphale -- even for just six months -- took something vital he hadn't fully understood until it was gone out of his life. It still gave him anxiety to think about.

Or maybe it wasn't the memories. His gaze flickered toward the plate glass window of the café as familiar anxiety clawed his gut, and he slammed the cup of milk down on the counter with an oath as he caught sight of the loitering form, just inside the shadows at the corner of the Dirty Donkey.

"Jemima." He hurried to the other side of the shop and scooped up his daughter protectively, murmuring in her ear, "Hide your face, poppet. We have to go."

He hated that he'd had to prepare her for this. That despite everything they'd done, he and Aziraphale both knew there might come a time it was necessary to hide her. He hated even more that he was scaring her. He could feel it in her trembling form as she clung to him.

"Lee-lee," she whimpered against the crook of his neck, her face burrowed against him and her hand shielding the exposed side of her face where her birthmark was.

He lifted his shaded gaze to find Maggie watching him with worry on her face. "Mr. Crowley? Is something the matter?"

He couldn't respond. He couldn't put their human friends at risk, either. He had to get out of here, back to the safety of the bookshop, where Jemmy would be safe. With a shake of his head, he headed straight for the door, wishing he could unfurl his wings and wrap them around his starling, protect anyone from seeing her. But he couldn't do that. So he did what he could. He held in all his rage and fear, and made his way across the busy Soho street, resisting the urge to race for safety, or glare a hole through the demon loitering in the shadows. He didn't want to draw any attention, just in case they hadn't actually seen him, yet. Shifting his daughter in his arms so he could wave the front door of the shop open, then shut and locked behind them, he fought for breath against the welling panic screaming this couldn't be happening, again.

They hadn't seen a demon anywhere since Shax showed up in St. James's Park, four years ago.

"It's okay now, poppet," he murmured to his shaking child as he circled the counter, waving all the shades down so no one could see into the shop if they wanted to. He didn't stop until he reached the back room, where Aziraphale already stood in the open doorway, his expression tense and worried.

"What's happened?"

Of course his angelic husband would pick up on his panic and Jemmy's fear. Aziraphale probably sensed it before they cleared the door to the café.

Jesus, seated at the table until that moment, was on his feet the instant he saw them. He looked worried, as well.

"Just got a little infestation to take care of," Crowley seethed, then pressed a kiss to the side of Jemmy's head, murmuring, "I'm going to put you down. Go to fafa, now, poppet. I need to go out for a bit."

"No!" Jemmy clung to his neck, lifting her tear-streaked, angry face to him. "Don't go, Lee-lee!"

"Jemima Crowley-Fell," Aziraphale admonished, his voice gentle but firm, "we have discussed this."

She hung her head contritely, and the mutinous pout on her face would have been funny, if not for the seriousness of the problem. He met his angel's gaze and saw the concern there, even as Jemima heaved a sniffling breath and allowed him to set her on her feet.

"Shax?"

He shook his head, a hiss of fury rattling its way through his frame. "Dagon."

"I see." The quiet calm of Aziraphale's voice didn't fool Crowley for a moment. Dagon was trouble. The demon had only ever stepped foot out of Hell twice since the Fall, and both times had been in an effort to hurt either them or the entire world. Aziraphale boosted Jemmy into his arms, and Crowley saw the worry in his angel's cerulean eyes as their gazes met over their daughter's head. "Be careful, love."

"I will," he promised, already starting back toward the door. If those bastards in Hell hadn't got the message Aziraphale sent back with Shax, Crowley was determined to shove it sideways down their collective throats until they choked on it.

"Wait." He turned in surprise at the sound of Jesus's voice behind him. As the son of God reached his side, a grin split the darker man's face that was eerily absent from his dark eyes. "This is my fight, Crowley."

Crowley eyed him in surprise. "Doesn't that break some kind of celestial non-intervention code between God and Satan?"

Jesus glanced back, and Crowley turned to follow his gaze, straight to where his entire world now sat in Aziraphale's chair, as his angel tried to soothe their frightened, crying daughter. Crowley grabbed for the countertop as his knees weakened, a terrified fury unlike any he'd ever felt tore through him. Hell was doing this. Hell was making his angel worry, and their daughter afraid. Did he really care whose rules he broke, in the face of that?

Not a fucking bit.

"'Suffer the little children' was never supposed to be literal, mate," Jesus muttered from beside him. "Stay with your family. Dagon's here more because of me than you, anyway. I got the sense someone was following my movements, the other day. It's why I was headed home."

Crowley glared at him. "Then get them off our doorstep, mate. Because if I have to do it, there won't be enough left of Hell to bother putting in a matchbox."

He waved the door unlocked and didn't bother to watch Jesus leave. Dagon couldn't come in -- no one not at least half of Earth could, without their permission -- so he wasn't worried about unwelcome visitors. Turning his back on the door -- to the whole fucking world for all he cared at the moment -- he crossed the handful of steps between the counter and his own world, stumbling and ending up on his knees just out of reach, with a raw, "Angel..."

He didn't need to say more. He never needed to say more. A small, warm weight hit him full-on, her thin arms clinging to his neck as she burrowed into his embrace, before soft warm arms enveloped them both, followed by downy wings that brushed tears from his cheek as they formed a cocoon of pure love and peace around them.

"It's all right, love," Aziraphale's voice touched his ears, soothing away the remains of hellfire and fury, of pain and fear and anxiety still clinging to his lungs with all Hell's stench. Crowley tightened his arms around his daughter, rocking away her tears, even as he let himself be soothed by the love, understanding, and acceptance pouring from his angel. This was all the world he needed. He would do anything for them. Anything at all.

******

Hours had passed since he'd seen Dagon on the corner across the way. Maggie and Nina had already been by to check on them, both women looking at him in concern, as if they expected him to lose it at any moment. He didn't fault them. He hadn't been sure himself, there for a while, if he wasn't going to lose it.

Crowley glanced at Jemmy, passed out against his side in her best imitation of a starfish, and the first smile he'd been able to manage in hours tugged at his lips.

"She definitely gets that from you." The quiet humor in Aziraphale's murmured acknowledgement dragged Crowley's attention from their daughter, to find his angel watching them both from the chair instead of working like he'd claimed he needed to.

"Which part?" He teased back, turning his gaze back to Jemmy as he tenderly brushed her wild strawberry-blonde hair from her face with one hand where he'd draped his upper arm and elbow along the back of the settee.

Aziraphale chuckled. "I'm not falling for that one, again."

"I was so scared, today, angel," Crowley admitted, watching her sleep. "I saw Dagon and all I could think was how I was losing everything, all over again. There's so much more to lose, now."

"I know." He heard Aziraphale rise and shifted his gaze as he sensed the angel's approach. Looking up, he saw the gentleness in his angel's eyes, even as Aziraphale's hand raised to brush against his cheek. "I wish I could give you back everything you lost, before."

"I don't." Crowley caught his wrist, tugging Aziraphale down closer to him. "I don't miss it."

"Liar," Aziraphale murmured, touching his lips lightly to Crowley's before he started to withdraw.

Crowley's lips twitched wryly, both because they both knew he did -- at times -- miss being able to hear the stars sing, and because this was a familiar game of theirs, meant to help him find his emotional footing when he was feeling especially vulnerable.

"I'm a demon, angel," he intoned, letting go of Aziraphale's wrist to close his fist in the cloth of the angel's shirt, dragging him a little closer, until they breathed the same sliver of air. "It's what I do."

He closed the distance between them in a proper kiss, before letting go with a smirk at the familiar, dazed look on his angel's face. Gathering their sleeping daughter up in his arms, her head on his shoulder, he rose from the settee and made he way upstairs to tuck her into bed, aware of the heated attention of his husband's gaze the entire way. And if he put a little more saunter in his step, who could blame him? He was a demon, after all, and he had an angel to tempt.

THE END

Note: If you want to know the origins of Jemima, you can find that in "The Starmaker's Daughter" (AO3) I mostly wrote this piece for a couple of reasons... A. I wanted the excuse to write a totally gooey scene with Crowley and Jemmy dancing to Queen. and B. I just really wanted to write Jesus as a hipster. lol

#Jesus is a hipster #Jemima Crowley-Fell #good omens #good omens fandom #aziracrow #azicrow #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable spouses #fanfic #good omens fanfic #go fanfic #Because why can't I?

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moongothic · 4 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