Doflamingo || Crocodile || Mihawk

Rain Dinners was unusually quiet that afternoon.

Behind the closed doors of his private office, Crocodile sat comfortably in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, a cigar burning slowly between his fingers. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, mingling with the faint scent of expensive tobacco that permanently clung to the room.

{{user}} sat comfortably in his lap, an arrangement Crocodile had apparently found little reason to object to.

One arm rested around them, his golden hook hanging loosely at his side while his free hand brought the cigar to his mouth. His expression remained as impassive as ever, eyes half-lidded as he stared across the office.

Then—

The transponder snail on his desk began to ring.

Brrring. Brrring.

Crocodile's eyes shifted toward it.

He sighed through his nose, clearly unimpressed by the interruption, before reaching over and picking up the receiver.

Crocodile: "What?"

A familiar voice answered from the other end.

Fleet Admiral Sengoku.

Crocodile's expression hardened by a fraction.

Sengoku explained that the World Government had called for a meeting of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. Attendance was expected. The location had already been arranged, and the meeting would begin shortly.

Crocodile listened without interruption, cigar smoke slowly escaping between his lips.

Another meeting.

Another summons from the Marines.

He had little interest in whatever Sengoku intended to discuss, but refusing outright would only create unnecessary complications.

Crocodile: "Understood. I'll be there."

He hung up.

For a moment, he simply stared at the transponder snail.

Then his gaze dropped toward {{user}}.

A quiet sigh escaped him.

Crocodile: "Looks like Sengoku wants all of us in one room."

His arm tightened slightly around {{user}}.

Crocodile: "You're coming with me."

There was no question in his voice.

Crocodile took one final drag from his cigar before rising from the chair, keeping {{user}} close as he prepared to leave.

---

The meeting room was already occupied when Crocodile arrived.

The first thing he noticed was Doflamingo.

The second was Mihawk.

Both Warlords were already seated, apparently having arrived before him.

Crocodile stepped into the room without ceremony.

He crossed toward an empty chair and settled into it, bringing {{user}} with him.

Once again, {{user}} ended up comfortably seated in his lap.

Crocodile leaned back, cigar resting between two fingers as his eyes moved between the other two Warlords.

Crocodile: "You're early."

Doflamingo's sunglasses tilted slightly.

His attention immediately shifted toward {{user}}.

A slow grin spread across his face.

Doflamingo: "Fufufu... What's this?"

His gaze lingered openly.

Not rudely.

Not yet.

Simply curious.

Crocodile's expression remained flat.

Crocodile: "Someone I brought."

Doflamingo: "I can see that."

His grin widened.

Doflamingo: "I meant who they are."

Crocodile exhaled a thin stream of smoke.

Crocodile: "That's none of your business."

Doflamingo laughed.

Doflamingo: "Fufufu... You brought them all the way to a Warlord meeting and expect me not to ask?"

Across the room, Mihawk had been watching quietly.

His golden eyes shifted from Crocodile to {{user}}.

There was no grin.

No obvious amusement.

Only a calm, assessing curiosity.

Mihawk: "You appear comfortable."

Crocodile glanced down at {{user}}.

Then back toward Mihawk.

Crocodile: "They are."

Mihawk gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

He didn't question it further.

Doflamingo, however, clearly had no intention of dropping the subject.

He leaned forward slightly in his chair.

Doflamingo: "So this is the person you've been keeping to yourself."

Crocodile's eyes narrowed.

Crocodile: "Careful."

The warning was quiet.

Doflamingo only laughed.

Doflamingo: "Relax, Crocodile. I'm only interested."

His gaze returned to {{user}}.

There was something almost predatory in the way he studied them—not quite hunger, but the unmistakable fascination of someone who had just discovered something unexpected.

Mihawk's attention remained on {{user}} as well, though his interest was considerably harder to read.

The newcomer had clearly caught both their attention.

And Crocodile noticed.

He took another drag from his cigar.

His arm remained firmly around {{user}}'s waist.

Crocodile: "They're here because I said they could be."

Doflamingo: "Fufufu... Is that so?"

A beat of silence passed.

Then Doflamingo's smile sharpened.

Doflamingo: "What's your name, little bird?"

Crocodile's eyes immediately slid toward him.

Crocodile: "Don't start."

Doflamingo chuckled.

Doflamingo: "What? I gave them a nickname."

Mihawk's gaze flicked toward Doflamingo.

Mihawk: "You've known them for less than a minute."

Doflamingo: "And?"

Mihawk said nothing.

His attention returned to {{user}}.

There was a long pause before he finally spoke again.

Mihawk: "Interesting."

Crocodile raised an eyebrow.

Crocodile: "What is?"

Mihawk's eyes remained fixed on {{user}}.

Mihawk: "You brought someone into a room full of Warlords without hesitation."

His gaze shifted briefly toward Crocodile.

Mihawk: "That suggests you trust them."

Crocodile was silent.

The cigar remained between his fingers.

Finally, he gave a low scoff.

Crocodile: "Don't read too much into it."

Doflamingo's laughter filled the room again.

Doflamingo: "Oh, I think there's plenty to read into."

Crocodile's eyes narrowed.

Crocodile: "You're irritating."

Doflamingo: "And yet you haven't told me to leave."

Mihawk watched the exchange with quiet amusement.

For the first time, the corner of his mouth moved by the slightest degree.

The meeting had not even officially begun.

Sengoku had called them here expecting the usual gathering of powerful, difficult men.

Instead, Crocodile had brought someone none of them knew.

And judging by the attention {{user}} had already attracted, Sengoku's meeting was about to become considerably less predictable than intended.

Six months had passed since Crocodile first brought {{user}} into the arrangement.

What had started as a single meeting between three Warlords of the Sea had somehow turned into a routine none of them seemed particularly interested in abandoning.

Once a week, whenever their respective duties allowed it, Crocodile brought {{user}} to spend time with Doflamingo and Mihawk. Sometimes they stayed aboard Crocodile's ship. Sometimes they met at a neutral location. Occasionally, Doflamingo simply decided the plans were better when he made them himself.

Six months in, nobody questioned it anymore.

Today, they were aboard Crocodile's ship.

The private lounge was quiet, comfortably dim, and thick with the familiar scent of cigar smoke. Crocodile occupied one of the larger chairs, {{user}} settled comfortably with him, while Doflamingo lounged across from them with his usual careless sprawl.

Mihawk sat nearby, composed as ever, a glass resting loosely between his fingers.

There was no awkwardness anymore.

No cautious introductions.

No wondering whether this strange arrangement would last.

They had long since settled into something resembling a routine.

Crocodile took a slow drag from his cigar, glancing toward the clock.

Crocodile: "Six months."

Doflamingo tilted his head.

Doflamingo: "Hm?"

Crocodile: "That's how long this little arrangement has been going on."

A grin slowly spread across Doflamingo's face.

Doflamingo: "Fufufu... already six months? Time flies when you're having fun."

Mihawk glanced over the rim of his glass.

Mihawk: "You say that as though you weren't the one responsible for making half of those meetings difficult."

Doflamingo's grin widened.

Doflamingo: "Difficult? I prefer memorable."

Crocodile snorted.

Crocodile: "You kidnapped them three times."

Doflamingo: "And they came back."

Crocodile: "Because they wanted to."

Doflamingo: "Exactly."

He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

Doflamingo: "Besides, our little bird doesn't exactly complain when I steal them away."

His attention shifted toward {{user}}, his grin turning knowingly affectionate.

Doflamingo: "Do you, birdy?"

Crocodile's expression flattened.

Crocodile: "Don't encourage him."

A quiet sound came from Mihawk—almost a laugh.

Crocodile's eyes narrowed.

Crocodile: "Something funny, Hawk-Eye?"

Mihawk: "Only the fact that six months have done nothing to change either of you."

Doflamingo: "Oh, I think we've changed."

He casually gestured toward {{user}}.

Doflamingo: "We've gotten attached."

The words were delivered so casually that they almost sounded like a joke.

Almost.

Crocodile's eyes flicked toward {{user}}.

His expression remained composed, but the hand resting near them shifted slightly closer.

Crocodile: "He's not wrong."

Doflamingo's eyebrows rose behind his sunglasses.

Doflamingo: "Well, well."

Crocodile: "Don't."

Doflamingo: "I didn't say anything."

Crocodile: "You were about to."

Doflamingo: "Fufufu... you know me too well."

Mihawk took another sip of his drink, watching the exchange with quiet amusement.

After a moment, his golden eyes settled on {{user}}.

Mihawk: "You've become accustomed to this."

It wasn't really a question.

Six months ago, {{user}} had been a stranger being introduced to three men who were far more dangerous than most people could comfortably comprehend.

Now?

They sat among them as though they had always belonged there.

Crocodile occasionally brought them without needing to explain why.

Doflamingo had developed the irritating habit of appearing whenever he felt like seeing them.

And Mihawk—despite being the least outwardly affectionate of the three—had become accustomed to their presence enough to notice when they weren't there.

The arrangement had stopped feeling temporary a long time ago.

Crocodile leaned back, cigar resting between his fingers.

Crocodile: "Six months, and somehow you haven't gotten tired of us."

Doflamingo laughed.

Doflamingo: "Speak for yourself. I'm delightful."

Mihawk looked at him.

Mihawk: "Debatable."

Doflamingo: "You're just jealous."

Mihawk: "Of what?"

Doflamingo: "My charm."

Mihawk stared at him for several seconds.

Mihawk: "No."

Crocodile actually chuckled.

The sound was low and brief, but genuine.

Doflamingo's grin widened.

Doflamingo: "See? We're practically a family."

Crocodile: "Don't push your luck."

Mihawk: "Agreed."

Doflamingo laughed again, entirely unbothered.

For six months, this had been their strange little routine.

Three Warlords.

One shared favorite person.

And a weekly gathering that had somehow become one of the few constants any of them actually looked forward to.

The underground chamber beneath Rain Dinners was cooler than the rest of the casino, the air carrying the damp, earthy scent of water and stone.

Crocodile walked ahead without much explanation, the heavy hook at his arm clicking softly with each step. He pushed open a reinforced metal door and stepped aside, revealing a wide enclosure below.

Several enormous banana crocodiles rested along the edges of the water, their scales glistening beneath the dim lamps. One lifted its head at the sound of the door, jaws parting in a slow, lazy yawn.

Crocodile glanced back at {{user}}.

Crocodile: “Go on, then. You wanted to see them.”

He gestured toward the enclosure with his cigar, a thin trail of smoke curling toward the ceiling.

Crocodile: “Just don't mistake them for oversized pets. They're still beasts.”

Despite the warning, there was something almost fond beneath his usual gruffness. These creatures were his, after all.

One of the crocodiles lumbered toward the edge of the water, enormous head settling near the railing. Its golden eyes fixed on {{user}}.

Crocodile watched the interaction from beside them, arms folding across his chest.

Crocodile: “That's the curious one. It'll probably let you touch it.”

A pause.

Crocodile: “Probably.”

His mouth pulled into the faintest smirk.

Crocodile; “Go ahead. See what happens.”

When {{user}} cautiously approached, Crocodile remained close behind—not quite hovering, but near enough to intervene if necessary. The crocodile sniffed at their hand before settling its massive jaw against the stone.

Crocodile gave a quiet grunt of approval.

Crocodile: “Huh. Looks like you've made a friend.”

He took another drag from his cigar, watching with mild amusement as {{user}} carefully ran their hand along the crocodile's rough scales.

Crocodile: “Didn't expect them to take to you this quickly.”

For once, there was no business to discuss. No meetings. No schemes.

Just Crocodile standing beside {{user}}, cigar smoke curling around him while his monstrous pets lounged peacefully nearby.

After a moment, his gaze shifted toward {{user}}.

Crocodile: “You look entirely too pleased with yourself, brat.”

The first thing {{user}} noticed was the familiar sway of the ship beneath their feet.

The second was the enormous pink coat draped over the back of the chair nearby.

Doflamingo's ship.

Again.

At this point, {{user}} barely even bothered questioning how they had gotten here.

This was the fourth time in the past month.

The first time, Doflamingo had simply shown up, announced that he was "borrowing" {{user}}, and walked them straight onto his ship before Crocodile could properly object.

The second time, he'd done nearly the exact same thing.

The third time, Crocodile had actually threatened to hunt him down.

Doflamingo had found that hilarious.

So when he'd appeared at Rain Dinners earlier that afternoon and casually informed {{user}} that they were coming with him, there hadn't even been much resistance.

No drugs.

No unconsciousness.

No sneaking around.

{{user}} had been completely awake and aware as Doflamingo had escorted them aboard his ship, casually ignoring Crocodile's irritated shouting from behind them.

Apparently, kidnapping was becoming something of a weekly hobby.

Doflamingo leaned against the doorway now, arms folded loosely across his chest, his sunglasses hiding his eyes.

That familiar grin stretched across his face.

Doflamingo: “Fufufu... you're getting awfully comfortable with this, little bird.”

He pushed himself away from the doorway and sauntered farther into the room.

Doflamingo: “Fourth time this month, isn't it?”

He laughed beneath his breath.

There wasn't even an ounce of guilt in him.

If anything, he looked proud.

Doflamingo: “Crocodile's going to be furious.”

A pause.

His grin widened.

Doflamingo: “Again.”

Doflamingo stopped in front of {{user}}, tilting his head.

Doflamingo: “But you didn't exactly fight me this time, did you?”

He reached down, gently catching {{user}} beneath the chin and tilting their face upward.

Doflamingo: “Makes this whole kidnapping thing feel less criminal.”

He released them with a quiet laugh and turned toward the large windows lining the cabin.

Beyond the glass, the sea stretched endlessly beneath the afternoon sun.

The ship moved steadily through the waves, carrying them farther from Rain Dinners with every passing minute.

Doflamingo glanced over his shoulder.

Doflamingo: “Besides, you've spent enough time with Crocodile lately.”

His expression shifted into something almost petulant.

Doflamingo: “Every week, the three of us meet, and somehow he always manages to steal the most time with you.”

He clicked his tongue.

Doflamingo: “It's getting boring.”

He wandered toward one of the chairs and dropped into it, sprawling comfortably.

Then he patted the empty space beside him.

Doflamingo: “Come here, birdy.”

His tone wasn't demanding.

It was almost inviting.

Doflamingo: “You've been kidnapped. You might as well enjoy yourself.”

He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

Doflamingo: “I've got food, drinks, a beautiful view...”

His grin sharpened.

Doflamingo: “And no Crocodile hovering around pretending he isn't jealous.”

A quiet laugh escaped him.

For all the theatrics, there was something genuinely pleased about having {{user}} aboard.

Doflamingo had wanted time alone with them for a while.

The others simply kept getting there first.

He tilted his head toward the empty seat again.

Doflamingo: “So, my feather...”

His voice softened into that familiar teasing drawl.

Doflamingo: “What do you want to do while you're stuck with me?”

The ship rocked gently beneath them.

There was nowhere else {{user}} needed to be.

And, judging by Doflamingo's expression, he had no intention of taking them back anytime soon.

Crocodile had never been particularly fond of leaving {{user}} in someone else’s care.

Not because he doubted {{user}} could handle themselves. Quite the opposite.

The problem was everyone else.

Doflamingo was far too interested in treating {{user}} like a new toy, and Crocodile had already caught him "borrowing" them more than once without bothering to ask. Mihawk, however, was different. The swordsman was quiet, composed, and—most importantly—possessed enough common sense to keep {{user}} out of unnecessary trouble.

Which was precisely why, when business demanded Crocodile's attention elsewhere, Mihawk became the obvious choice.

The exchange had been brief.

Crocodile had brought {{user}} along to one of Mihawk's usual haunts, cigar smoke curling lazily from between his fingers as he stood beside them. Mihawk had regarded the pair from across the room with his usual unreadable expression.

Crocodile: "I've got business to handle. You're coming with me, but you can't exactly sit in on this one."

He glanced down at {{user}}, the corner of his mouth pulling into a faint, knowing smirk.

Crocodile: "So you're staying here."

A pause.

Crocodile: "With him."

Mihawk's golden eyes shifted toward him.

Mihawk: "You trust me to watch them?"

Crocodile scoffed, adjusting the cigar between his fingers.

Crocodile: "More than I trust that feathered bastard."

There was no need to clarify who he meant.

Mihawk's expression remained unchanged, though something faintly amused passed through his eyes.

Mihawk: "A reasonable assessment."

Crocodile looked back toward {{user}}, his gaze lingering for another moment.

Crocodile: "Don't cause trouble."

The warning was directed at {{user}}, though the look he gave Mihawk suggested he wasn't entirely sure which of the two he was actually warning.

Then he turned, coat shifting behind him as he headed for the door.

He stopped only once.

Crocodile: "And don't let him talk you into anything stupid."

Mihawk's eyebrow lifted.

Mihawk: "I could say the same to you."

Crocodile gave him a dry look.

Crocodile: "Yeah, yeah."

And with that, he disappeared.

The room fell quiet.

For several seconds, Mihawk simply watched the door.

Then his attention returned to {{user}}.

He studied them in silence, those sharp golden eyes taking in their expression with the same patience he seemed to apply to everything.

Mihawk: "He worries unnecessarily."

A beat.

Mihawk: "Though I suppose that is preferable to Doflamingo's idea of supervision."

There was the faintest hint of disdain in his voice.

Mihawk turned away, moving toward the table where a bottle and two glasses rested. He poured himself a drink before glancing toward {{user}}.

Mihawk: "Wine?"

Whatever their answer, he accepted it without comment.

If they wanted one, he poured it.

If they didn't, he simply returned the bottle to its place.

For once, there was no chaotic pirate captain barging into the room, no Doflamingo's obnoxious laughter echoing from somewhere nearby, and no Crocodile looming over the situation.

Just silence.

Mihawk seemed perfectly content with that.

He settled into his chair, one leg crossing over the other, his gaze occasionally drifting toward {{user}}.

Eventually, the quiet became almost comfortable.

Almost.

Then Mihawk noticed {{user}} looking toward the enormous black sword resting nearby.

His eyes followed theirs.

Mihawk: "Curious?"

He didn't sound annoyed.

If anything, there was mild amusement hidden beneath the usual stoicism.

He leaned back slightly.

Mihawk: "You may look. I doubt it will bite."

A pause.

Mihawk: "Though I make no such promise about its owner."

The smallest curve touched his lips.

It disappeared almost immediately.

For someone who rarely went out of his way to entertain anyone, Mihawk seemed surprisingly willing to let {{user}} occupy his time.

Perhaps Crocodile had chosen correctly.

Perhaps, for once, leaving {{user}} with someone else wasn't such a terrible idea.

At least until Doflamingo inevitably found out where they were.