Indie. Private. Very low activity rp blog for Sir Crocodile from One Piece.
"My name is Brutus, but the people will call me Rex!"
The Beast in a Manskin Coat; the liberator turned tyrant; the ends justify the means ; illusions of self-importance; might makes right ; a self-made man
Very Headcanon Based. Primarily based in Cross Guild era, but willing to rp anywhere on his timeline.
Very OC friendly ❤️ // Dupe Cautious, but Open ⚠️
Crossover Friendly
Est. March 2026
I dont mind spoilers.
Penned by The Reverend, aka Rev
DEAD DOVE; DON'T LOOK WILL BE PRESENT can include, but not limited to horror elements, body horror, cannibalism, gore, blood, smoking, drinking, abuse, and generally being a terrible person. Please Be Advised. You cannot Fix him. He will make you WORSE.
this is a trans!croc friendly blog!! I do write crocodad, but it is not a requirement for interaction! case by case basis!!
My Crocodile is heavily affiliated lorewise with my Mihawk ( @drculeeyed ) My two blogs go hand-in-hand.
Rules Under Cut
My name is Rev. 35+. Autistic. I am a he/they gnc butch. Over 25 years of writing and rp experience under my belt. I am Old and I am Tired. I am married and currently work in archives. I am actually an ordained minister with Dudeism, a Dudeist Priest if you will, so this blog runs on vibes, 🍃, and a piece of string.
Sorry if my rules read like a business contract, but I do this because I want the freedom to be able to write a very nasty, bad, bad man and allow my partners the freedom to feel safe in this space. I have had nasty encounters in the past and I do not want to repeat them in this fandom.
mutuals only.
anon is always off.
Primarily iconless
Formatting is pretty basic. At most I do small text. I don't care too much on graphics. I will occasionally do aesthetic posts.
Regarding Cross Guild, I think the dynamic of Cross Guild can lead to some fascinating character dynamics and interactions. It's also important for Croc's character. However, I know how rpcs can get about interactions that highlight abusive relationships, so if that squicks you out, I'll tag anything mentioning Cross Guild accordingly.
Due to my age, I prefer to only rp and engage with other muns who are over the age of 25. Smut/NSFW will ONLY be with muns older than 30. No mun name/no age = blocked.
This is not a 'no drama' or 'good vibes only' toxic positivity waste dump. This is not a 'i dont do drama!!' rule. I believe the 'you dont owe anyone anything' mindset can lead to very toxic results. I hate misuse of 'therapy speak'. I don't think that relationships are 'transactional'. Sometimes, people need to vent. Sometimes, people need to get their feelings out so they can work through them. I believe that conflict resolution is healthy and necessary for relationships. Please do not be afraid to approach or discuss matters with me if they are deemed necessary. I will always hear you out first before I make my own conclusions.
I will tag common triggers liberally with *trigger cw* as the tag. If you would like something tagged, please let me know.
Don't be a dick. I have a busy real life including a full time job and earning my second Master's Degree. My rp blogs are for me to do a passion I have had for a long time, but they are low priority. This is not a job. I will block liberally if I feel my boundaries are being crossed. That being said, I rp to make friends and share passions. Please don't be afraid to approach me, even if we are non-mutuals. I will always respect your time.
THERE WILL BE DEAD DOVE; DON'T LOOK ON THIS BLOG.
Muse is well into his 40s and is a mature adult. I enjoy exploring all manner of relationships, be it romantic, sexual, platonic, familial, ect. However, I will not accept romantic or sexual ships aimed at him for muses younger than 30. My one exception to this is CrocxRobin, and I have my reasons, and it's a case by case basis. If you're strictly here for the potential for smut, this isn't the blog for you. This is for what I am comfortable with writing, not meant to be judgemental.
I ship with Chemistry. I am open to most things (as long as they're SSC and do not violate my age rules) . If you're open to a Ship, chances are I might be as well. My One addendum to this is I do not and will not ship reciprocal Doffwani**. I'll write and interact with Doffys!! I will also accept one-sided/unrequited obsession/infatuation from Doffy, Crocodile just will not respond positively. It'd be too out of character for him, imo, and would trigger him in a way I just don't see him following.
** in normal verses. Only place where I see this dynamic happening is in my King of Alabasta AU. If this interests you, please let me know.
I don't police peoples writing. Please don't police mine. If you're the sort who has a dni a mile long, we're not gonna be compatible. Live and Let Live. I do ask that if you do write smut involving incest or underage characters to please tag this for my own blacklisting. I am anti-censorship, but these topics make me uncomfortable and I wish to not engage with them personally. I do not judge those who explore topics in FICTIONAL scenarios, but I put up my own boundaries.
If you actively use AI in your direct, person facing writing, then I take you gently by the hand and ask you why are you in this hobby to begin with.I write with other humans, please.
If you're a person with a cognitive thinking system, I'm going to assume you agree with the phrase that MUN =/= MUSE.
If you can get passed my 'old man' tone, then welcome to my little passion project and I hope to collaborate with you all in the future
it was simply too easy to rile her up. and he was doing that simply by staring down at her. why did he even have to be this tall? the world for once felt so unfair. not that she would complain right to his face.
"just because you are a pirate it doesn't mean you can tell me what to do." she huffed as she folded her arms in response. of course, she was offended. being compared to a rather small and weak animal.
"looks like you're not very sharp, huh? anyone would be thrilled to work with someone like me." maybe she did wave her hand, somewhat amused. "but do go ahead. i've never seen a tree do a curtsy before."
That smug, sharp smile never left Crocodile's lips as his half-lidded gaze remained focused on her. The smoke from his cigar drifted into the air, dissipating in a foggy haze over his head, further disfiguring his view of the shorter woman. He was not bothered about her at all.
"And just because you're a government lapdog doesn't mean you get the gall to snap up at me." He tutted his reply, twisting the hook left and right in a corkscrew motion. A tad too close to her stomach, though if it was a threat or him simply not giving a care about their proximity wasn't apparent. "Down, girl."
The mention of the curtsy drew an amused chuckle from Crocodile, the man's rumble of a laugh reverberating so low it might be felt in both their chests.
"I've dealt with enough smart asses in my day to know workin' with you would be nothin' but a headache, and I only give respect where it's due. So, eat me." He tutted.
A Guide to Caring for your Wani when he is going through Child of the Sun Season:
As per my headcanon on the Kuja of Amazon Lily being a reptilian offshoot of the Mink people, they are affected by the Sun in the same way that the Mink are affected by the Moon. However, their curse is more gradual and related to the sun's intensity than to certain phases of the sun. Therefore, Crocodile is at his most 'primal' while in places where there is heavy sun exposure (such as in Alabasta) or when the sun is at its most intense point, i.e., the Solstice.
In the weeks leading up to the Solstice, Crocodile becomes a lot crankier. Quicker to lose his temper. His skin grows dry and starts to flake and shed, eventually giving way to scales. He also grows in height and bulk, getting more muscular. By the time of the summer solstice, he tends to keep himself unavailable and keeps to himself, as he's a rather unpredictable, unhinged beast at this time. Scales, bigger muscle mass, taller.
Eventually, it wears off, and he returns to how he was before. Transition is very painful for him, and he has a lot of aches and pains before and after the Season.
In Alabasta, he was always in a partially 'hulked out' state due to the sun's exposure. It was why he wore long clothes that covered his body entirely, as well as the large coat, so that people couldn't see his scales.
When Crocodile lurches away from her after the remnants of her Healing fade, she does not try to follow him. Even when he struggles to hold himself up, she stays put and busies herself wiping the blood off her hands. There is the familiar weight of fatigue of having expended her own energy to restore someone else but it wasn't too detrimental.
It wasn't as if he'd been anywhere close to death or had lost a limb. Those sorts of injuries always took the worst out of her.
Thea watches him sedately, her expression otherwise inscrutable. Helping others like this was not uncommon for her, with her reputation often seesawing between extremes: either she was ruthless or she was gentle as a spring breeze. "Give yourself a few minutes," the mythical zoan advises coolly, "you also might want to eat soon. Accelerating healing tends to leave one hungry."
A pause, watching the sand logia with her alien indigo eyes. Would she hold it against him? There's the twitch of an amused smile on her face, "No. You needed help and I was here, that is all there is to it. But I wouldn't say no to some extra house credits for the casino." A playful lilt carrying at the end there.
"Consider it done. You can play as many free games as you want, on the house." He rumbled in response, an exasperated, though amused sound. "All expenses paid vacation, courtesy of Rain Dinners."
Though the bleeding had stopped, the pain still webbed inside of him. He could feel it pulsating around the place where the wound had been, tiny tendrils of white-hot throbbing slowly ebbing out of feeling. As it knitted itself together, he could feel what she was saying. He felt exhausted, far more than when he normally might after overexerting himself with his Devil Fruit. The dull throb of hunger pangs could be felt festering in his stomach, and the Warlord hissed.
"I'll make sure to call off for the cook."He hissed for a moment as he finally let himself rest again. He didn't like having someone else so close to him while he was recovering, even if it was with the one who had done the healing for him. Eventually, he managed to crack his back, his large hand brought back to smooth away the parts of his hair that had gone out of place. "Probably would be courteous of me to invite you to stay for dinner. The least I can do for the one who saved my life."
Stealing this from a thread with Ziggy, but it's also an HC and lore-based, so it should have its own post
Crocodile's grip was ever-present in Rain Base, from the way the city was laid out to the system by which money changed hands. When he had first arrived in Alabasta, that odd decade and a half ago that it was, the city had been nothing more than a small oasis town, living off of what trade it could and being a refuge for weary travelers. When Crocodile had arrived, he had had a few stipulations to run by Cobra for their relationship to go on unhitched. One had been for Crocodile to have a headquarters of his own. A town where he might rest his head and keep his peace, but relatively centered so that he might have less than a few hours' distance to all corners of Alabasta if need be. The oasis had proven the perfect space, and Crocodile had been allowed to do with it how he wanted.
With Rain Dinners built and with Crocodile's increasing popularity with the populace, the town had grown into a bustling metropolis, bringing in revenue and making the Warlord a very, very rich man. Of course, he paid what was due to the capital city in taxes -no measly sum-, and Cobra allowed Crocodile all the luxuries of practically being the city's mayor.
There was very little that happened in that city that the Warlord did not know about, and what he didn't know, he would be the first to find out.
ESCALATION SPURS A SUDDEN SHIFT in stance. The first step is guiding his head back to its original position. A scoff clips his lips on exit. Hands remain in his pockets.
His weight shifts, allowing his unencumbered leg to lift. A restless, steady tap of his toe strikes the ground. At a moment's notice, he's ready. "I don't think I need to be any larger to kick your ass," the cook quips.
Crocodile noted how the other casually shifted into a stance meant for battle. Eyes narrowed, slits radiating faintly beneath the lidded gaze. Assessing the positions. The fallen Warlord also didn't want a fight. There was no point to it, for this was not Alabasta. Yet, something did linger there, in the back of his skull. A clawing, clambering, snapping of sharp teeth that wanted to open wide and slam down tight onto Sanji's throat and give it a vigorous death roll.
Instead, all Crocodile did was smile.
He lifted his one hand, fingers spread. Of course, the larger man could never quite position himself away from 'never having a weapon', but the gesture was as genuine as the sleazy beast could portray.
"Now, now. I'm not here to waste my energy on something that doesn't matter." He rumbled. "Let's keep it steady, because we might actually need it later."
The man turned to look away from Sanji, out towards the waters that lapped up beneath them. An exhale, ever brief, and Crocodile returned his gaze towards the blonde.
"Might find ourselves better allies in this moment than enemies anyway."
sexuality & gender diversity headcanons. here’s one for the lgbtq+ muses: put a number in my ask, and i’ll tell you about my muse’s gender or orientational identity and their relationship with it. tw: topics of homophobia, transphobia, dysphoria and discussion of internalised oppresive attitudes in some of the questions. if you want to help your followers to pick out questions a bit, tag this post with your muse’s label(s) as you reblog!
what do you label your muse as, and how do they label themselves? is there a difference, and if so, why?
has your muse’s understanding of their own identity changed after realising they aren’t cishet, and do you see it developing further in the future?
when did your muse first realise they’re attracted to the gender(s) that they are?
when did your muse first realise they’re not attracted to the gender(s) that they aren’t?
when did your muse first become aware that they’re not cis?
when did your muse first become aware that their gender identity isn’t within the binary?
how public is your muse about their gender / sexuality / romantic attraction?
is your muse out as lgbtq+? how specifically and in what situations, if that varies.
how much does your muse’s gender identity and presentation differ from one another? is this a source of issues, or does the relationship between the two feel natural?
how does your muse feel about not being cis or straight? are they content with it, proud, ashamed? would the situation be the same if the culture or surrounding support systems were different?
have there been other meaningful people of the same or similar identities in your muse’s life that they’ve looked for support or understanding from? how did that go, and was the impact positive or negative in the end?
what are your muse’s feelings towards stereotypes relating to their identity? do they affect their self-image, or how they perceive others?
was your muse ever in denial about the matter? do you have any examples of specific instances where it was particularly obvious?
has your muse had feelings or experiences that seem to / do conflict with their identity? are these general knowledge? does it alter how others see them, or how they see themselves?
if the thing that originally caused them to realise / start the chain reaction to realising they weren’t cishet had not happened, how much longer would it had take to end up here?
do they consider to ‘always have been’, or do they see the phases in their life before coming out as ‘back when i was [cis/straight/allo]’?
how are their feelings towards pride and related phenomenons?
how does their family feel about the matter? friends? coworkers?—and does their thoughts matter to your muse?
what’s your muse’s relationship with the current state of their body?
what are your muse’s feelings towards the culture of romance and sexuality as it pertains to their identity?
what words do they reclaim, what are they okay with being reclaimed, and what do they do not want to used to describe them?
An unamused quirk of a thin brow was Crocodile's only response at first. He noted the slight change in Hancock's disposition, just barely, until that stone cold approach returned to her face. It was familiar, the subtle hint of rage, and it was something that dug deep.
Something that felt like home?
That didn't make sense, and Crocodile did not try to have it make sense. All he did in response was upturn his lip to show sharp teeth.
"Despite my better judgment for this council of our fellows, not all of us are out here to make you an enemy."
what was a life worth to a mercenary? no, that wasn't right. he knew what a life was worth—he knew what he'd accept as payment in order to kill someone, just as he knew how much he'd be willing to accept in order to spare someone ( or pretend to before taking their money and stabbing them in the back. ) no, there was only one question at the heart of all this, a single, lonely question as he stood here in the belly of rain dinners, facing down @sircrocodillian :
what was lanselot's own life worth to themself?
" was that fun? did you have a good time? " said mockingly to Lanselot.
they were a liar by trade, weren't they? all they had to do was lie.
" … " just lie. one lie, and maybe they could get out of this with their life, or at least live long enough to go and find an escape route—after all, they were always so good at escaping by the skin of their teeth— " … honestly, boss? ye'h. bein' 'round th'straw hats showed me how it looks t'actually accomplish s'methin' fer once. "
so, just what was lanselot's life worth? not much.
he wasn't in great condition as it was; making the decision back in whisky peak to chase after the straw hats, to try and help them after all but betraying them to baroque works, choosing to go against mr. 0—sir crocodile—after he'd already locked the straw hats behind bars? well, it hadn't really worked out in his favor. [ shocking. ] there was a pretty high chance that this stunt of theirs was going to get them killed. … wouldn't be the worst thing he'd done.
" here's th'thing, boss. i could've gotten th'information fr'm arlong that yeh wanted. i could've gone t'him when i was in th'east blue. it's not th'straw hats' fault fer deposin' him that yeh don' have yer information. that's on me. "
It would seem that ghosts could never leave him be. He recalled Mr. Six's supposed disappearance. The way they had seemingly slipped off into the ether, declared dead and buried under the blue.
Of course, Mr. Zero had made a side path-- contingency for contingency for contingency-- and now the Straw Hats were under his hook. Yet, it would seem those shifting sands kept creating mirages that kept turning up ghosts.
"So, this is where you ran off with? Joining up with ragtag little band of nothing? Learn your lesson?" He scoffed at first, though the smile slowly started to dwindle as Lanselot spoke their conditions, falling further as they noted exactly what had happened.
Robbed was what he had been. Thief. Scoundrel.
Filthy mongrel.
"Ungrateful mutt," drawled the response from the Crocodile, gold eyes dilating slightly as he stared down his nose at Lanselot. "Have you been the one causing me so much trouble?"
Oh, his attentions were turned away now from the prisoners in his cage, focus entirely set on the other who stood in front of him.
