Prompt: The care package was nothing more than a half-eaten muffin, a cracked Beyonce CD case with no CD, and a note that read, “I tried, then I realized I was hungry, bored, and didn’t really care that much.”
Really, you shouldn’t have expected much from Byeongkwan. It was a miracle you’d even gotten anything from him in the first place. Without disturbing the contents, you snapped photos of the supposed “care package” and note then added them to the group chat without a comment. They spoke volumes.
It took mere minutes for the chat to explode with messages, and a quick glance confirmed the brotherhood had turned on one of their own. To be fair, you regularly fed them and hosted their parties from time to time. You’d earned the right to a little pettiness.
About an hour later, there was a knock at the door. You knew who it was just by the force of the pounding. When you opened the door, Byeongkwan was there holding a bag of your favorite takeout, drinks, and flowers. “Well, look at you.”
“I’ve been instructed to kiss butt and enslave myself for the evening.” He said dryly. You cackled and stepped aside, welcoming him in.
“Serves you right. Can’t believe you had the balls to do that.” You closed and locked the door behind him, then led the way to the kitchen. “Where’d you even find the CD case?”
“Leftover from my high school step team days. I swore the CD was in it.” He set his apology goodies on the counter and began to unpack. “Alrighty, Miss Snitch. You eat,” he glanced at the kitchen sink, “while I get started on chores, I guess.”
“That’s very kind of you.” You batted your eyelashes at him before unwrapping a straw to attack your drink. “I also forgot to unload the dishwasher.”
@lawluevents 10 Days of Lawlu 2022 Day 7: Free day
Alternate summary: you know you just cannot win against a drag queen, Shachi, come on
Alternate summary 2: what happens when you recycle ideas you had at 2am half a year ago
[ READ ON AO3 | FULL SERIES | KO-FI ]
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Seeing the war between the Navy and the Whitebeard pirates very up close and personal wasn't really a choice Shachi would have made by himself. However, when your pirate captain gives the order, you follow, and Shachi had never seen a reason to argue with Law.
Not until now at least.
But how do you walk up to a man and tell him, "Hey, I don't think risking your entire crew's lives because of this cute guy you met a week ago for a grand total of ten minutes is really smart?" Shachi didn't know and he sure as hell didn't want to try and figure it out either.
Not when Law had that determined look on his face, a look Shachi had seen only twice before. First, when he had announced he was forming the Heart Pirates. Second, when he decided it was time to enter the Grand Line.
He was going to go, with or without Shachi, and like hell was Shachi letting him do this alone.
And so, the whole crew had found themselves running away from rapidly growing icebergs and unrelentless beams of light, diving deeper, deeper, deeper, just to survive while the Captain was busy saving the lives of people that had no real connection to him. Because 'he felt like it.'
Ever since they had left Sabaody Archipelago, the crew had been whispering; speculating, asking questions, wondering. Why? Why were they doing this? For what purpose? Not questioning the Captain's decision but simply curious.
And then there was Shachi, exchanging knowing, gloomy looks with Penguin.
In this case, he honestly might have preferred being as clueless as the others.
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It felt like an eternity until the Heart Pirates finally felt safe enough to surface once more. No one was happier about it than Bepo but even Shachi had to admit the fresh air felt great—if it didn’t come with the fucking navy battle ship right in their faces.
That alone took away about eight years of his lifespan.
But seeing Boa Hancock, the Pirate Empress, the most beautiful woman in the world, stepping onto their deck, blessing their measly little submarine with her dazzling presence, beauty, and charisma, well… that alone added about sixteen years of his life back. He would absolutely take this deal again.
Ah, if only he could take Bepo’s place and be her personal servant… Or better yet, Straw Hat’s place and have her worry about him like this.
The pirate was so damn lucky.
Suddenly, Shachi was ripped away from his fantasy by words spoken by the… person whose presence Shachi had been trying to ignore.
“By the way, who are you? Straw Hat boy’s friend?”
Shachi did a double take at Ivankov’s question. What was this, a woman’s—Drag Queen’s—intuition? He hadn’t even seen Law and Straw Hat interact. He hadn’t been subjected to that sorry excuse for flirting that they had going on since Law’s first ‘Straw Hat-ya’ and yet, he still knew they were one unsupervised moment away from kissing each other stupid—
“Please tell me you misheard him say ‘Straw Hat’s boyfriend’ too and it’s not just me,” Penguin whispered into his ear, begging.
Shachi startled, blinking once, twice, before he realised what Ivankov had actually said. Way to make it sound misleading. Heaving a deep sigh, Shachi’s shoulders sagged as he nodded. “Sure did.”
The two of them looked at each other, two identical, tired gazes meeting before they simultaneously turned to look at their idiot Captain, both having the sense of absolute and utter defeat descend upon them.
And really, how could they not feel completely resigned? Looking at Law, seeing him all fidgety and glancing at the door leading into the Tang every few seconds like he was dying to go back even while in the middle of a conversation with Boa Hancock, Emporio Ivankov, and Knight of the Sea Jinbe—in other words, three insanely powerful and scary people—and well…
They were fucked.
Law was admittedly the one who was the most fucked out of all of them but the rest of the Hearts were still doomed to getting dragged into this thing that Law and Straw Hat had going on anyway by simple association.
As soon a Law disappeared back inside, a large shadow appeared right behind Shachi and Penguin. Slowly, Shachi turned his head around to look, only to come into an uncomfortably close contact with a huge face covered by a thick layer of make up, impossibly long and thick eyelashes, and a toothy smile so wide it made Shachi’s cheeks hurt just looking at it. Seriously, did this guy—was it even right to call him that?—ever close his mouth fully or did he just walk around with his teeth exposed 24/7?
Shachi wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that.
"I saw you exchanging that look earlier,” Ivankov said slowly with his strange intonation and, even though his smile didn’t falter at all, Shachi had never felt quite so intimidated in his life. “Tell me, why did Doctor boy save Straw Hat boy?"
For a moment, no one moved. Shachi and Penguin just stared up and Ivankov’s face hovering above them, making it obvious he wasn’t about to let them get away. But that didn’t mean they shouldn’t at least try… right?
“Why—” Shachi gulped before attempting to speak again. “Why should we tell you?”
Ivankov raised an eyebrow, regarding Shachi with a critical look before replying, "Because! I need to know if I can trust him with the boy's life!" he said, his voice unyielding as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Shachi and Penguin exchanged a look. Shachi had hoped Penguin would have an idea on how to get the hell out of this... situation but he could see it in his eyes that his partner was exactly as clueless as Shachi himself.
Well.
This didn’t look very good.
Quickly glancing around himself, Shachi tried to look for a way out—a door, a mouse hole, a person to save him. But there was nothing. Nothing but the Pirate Empress peeking shyly inside the the Tang and mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Luffy,’ Jinbe sitting on the deck looking like he was about to fall asleep, and Bepo who was actually asleep, enjoying the breeze.
In other words… there was no escape.
Shachi took a step back. “Uhm,” he could barely let out, looking anywhere but Ivankov’s face.
“Well,” Penguin said, his voice weak and uncertain as he mirrored Shachi’s attempt at retreat.
“Come on!” Ivankov insisted, quickly filling up the space the two Hearts had managed to put between them by merely tilting his giant head.
“We can’t!” Shachi said, trying to keep his voice steady and firm. He wasn’t sure if he had succeeded—especially not with the four quick steps back he took.
“It’s not our place to tell you!” Penguin joined in.
Three more steps back.
“Tell me!”
Two more steps—
Shachi’s back hit something.
He cursed internally, pushing his back against the Tang’s wall as he tried to get as far away as he could, possibly far enough to phase through the metal and disappear inside the sub.
“Hm?” Ivankov drew out, his face getting closer… closer…
Bigger?
Shachi’s eyes widened so much that he wouldn’t have been surprised if they just fell out of their sockets. He could only stare as the Drag Queen stabbed himself in his face, glowering down at him and Penguin from further and further up as his already huge face inflated more and more and more.
Shachi couldn’t do it.
“Captain! Save me!” Shachi screamed, not even trying to hide how terrified he was anymore.
“He’s not going to help us,” Penguin piped up, voice so weak that Shachi could barely hear him from where he stood right next to him. “He’s too busy with Straw Hat.”
“Shit,” Shachi cursed as he closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle.
A gust of wind blew past Shachi then and he dared to peek through his lids… only to regret every life decision that had led to him ever bearing witness to the Queen of Drag Queens, head half the size of the entire Polar Tang, twirling in place at great speed, before he suddenly stopped, striking a pose with a deafening cry of ‘WAAHOO!’
It was such a bizarre sight that for a second, Shachi had thought, oh, just a dream…
But his mind could never—never—come up with this. Which meant it was real, which meant the cold grin and impossibly giant eyes that were now inches away from his face were real, too.
And then…
Shachi screamed.
"Ahhh I give! I give!! We'll tell you, just stop please!"
"For the love of god, don't tell him we said anything!” Penguin yelled right along with him, waving his arms in front of himself to try and keep a semblance of personal space.
Ivankov hummed, nodding at them both in approval. “You’re doing great, Candies. Go on, don’t be shy!”
Shachi took a deep but shaky breath.
He felt Penguin tense next to him, knowing what Shachi was about to do.
And Shachi simply closed his eyes, mulling the words over in his mouth; he felt like he was preparing for death instead of saying a few simple words. Just stating out loud what anyone could see if they spent two minutes with Law and Straw Hat in the same room…
Fuck it. "The Captain’s got a crush," he muttered quietly.
One could hear a hair falling in the silence that had settled over the deck at his words. It was like the sea itself was dreading what was to come, a retribution in the form of an absolutely livid Law or maybe a lightning striking from the cloudless blue skies above.
Yet, nothing came, no matter how long he waited.
“Ohohoho…" the sound of Ivankov’s quiet, impressed chuckle was the first sound that Shachi had noticed.
Cracking one eye open after what felt like an eternity, Shachi was relieved to see Ivankov’s face back to its usual size, the ever-present grin having turned to something calmer, more thoughtful as the Queen studied Shachi’s expressions and body language.
And then he finally nodded, seemingly reaching a satisfying conclusion in his mind as he turned around, thanking Shachi and Penguin before strutting away.
Immediately, Shachi’s knees gave in and he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, completely lifeless; at least Penguin was in exactly the same boat, right next to him on the floor.
“So this is the power of a Revolutionary Army top executive,” Penguin muttered after a while.
Before Shachi could muster the strength to say anything, a deep calm voice spoke up instead. “I’m pretty sure that’s just Ivankov.”
Shachi heaved a sigh at Jinbe’s words. The man was right. But putting it like that didn’t make Shachi feel any better about spilling one of his best friends’ secret like that.
----------
Law rubbed at his eyes. Not only was he in a sore need of a nap after spending the whole night on Straw Hat’s and Jinbe’s operations, now he couldn’t even enjoy his damn coffee in peace.
“Hey, Doctor boy,” Ivankov said, sliding into the chair opposite of him in the kitchen.
Who had even let him inside? Law was going to have a word with them. He didn’t even bother to reply; he simply stared back at the Drag Queen impassively for a moment before sighing and turning his attention back to his steaming cup of coffee, completely ignoring him.
Ivankov seemed unphased, however. “Wanna come with us to Kamabakka after Straw Hat boy recovers? We can teach you a lot!”
Blinking once, twice… Law tried to process whatever the hell the idiot had just said.
But, meeting Ivankov’s eager eyes, seeing his suggestive wink… Law felt a chill run up his spine. Now he was positive he didn’t even want to know.
Without a word, Law picked up his coffee and left the kitchen, heading right back to the OR. He needed to check on Straw Hat—it was nothing short of a miracle that he had survived the operation in the first place, he was most certainly not out of danger. He needed to be there in case something went to shit.
Law shook his head, chasing all thoughts of that possibility away. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to imagine a world where he would never be able to watch this reckless idiot punching a Celestial Dragon again.
Or be able to see his bright, carefree smile, or the warm spark of quiet determination in his eyes.
No; that wasn’t the reason. He was simply going there to check his vitals because he had a lot of pride invested in that half-dead body, as a surgeon. Nothing more.
Or to be precise—as he slammed the door to the OR closed behind himself, finally shutting out Ivankov’s giggling, he reminded himself; if nothing else, in his current state, Straw Hat certainly wasn’t going look at him like he was waiting for the first opportunity to put him in drag.
i don’t know what the names of these audios are so i’m just gonna describe them as best i can
bokuto: “i’m just a happy, happy guy” audio... the one used with doggos
ukai: “gfdi dave” with the peppy song backing it
msby: the really extra teletubbies theme song cover that people use with their cats (”mf po~” is definitely miya atsumu)
akaashi: god is a bit of a freak (i hc he has a strong distaste for overly conservative religion bc he gay)
takeda: literally any audio about adult money
hinata: the “hi! good morning! hiiii!” one
daichi: “and i think to myself... wtf” (to the tune of “what a wonderful world”)
oikawa and iwaizumi: listen they share this audio. the first half (”hit that boy with a bat - SMACK!) is iwaizumi’s. obviously. “damn sorry i blew you off i was doing lunch with microsoft” is obviously oikawa’s
ennoshita: “i am not drowning. i am doing just fine. i am having a nice time”
kageyama: (listen i Love him but) the “f u my child is completely fine” (the boy has two braincells and 1.5 of them are for volleyball. .25 is for hinata and hinata related shenanigans. the last quarter is given literally everything else and is terribly overworked)
kenma: the one about the relationship between mental illness and hair dye
suna: “don’t just stand there staring honey, c’mon move your feet~”
okay but now I’m imagining modern AU CPeak main characters on dating apps
Thomas has lots of carefully chosen pictures to demonstrate multiple aspects of his personality, and a well-written bio that, unbeknownst to him, gives the impression that he’s a human golden retriever.
Edith deletes and re-downloads every couple of months. She has two pictures on her profile and one of them isn’t actually a picture of her, but rather her typewriter in artsy lighting. Her bio is her basic information (”she/her, bisexual, aspiring author, etc.”) and a literary quote.
Lucille only made a profile after her therapist strongly encouraged it. And because she’s going to therapy entirely to keep any positive relationship she can with Thomas, she acquiesced- to a point. Her only picture is a studio portrait from two years ago, and her bio just says “I’m waiting to be impressed.”
warnings: this is a NSFW fic! swearing galore, mentions of heats, insinuated masturbation(m)
With no other choice, you turned your livid butt around and marched (read: stomped) over to your new home, ready to tell (read: rant to) your fellow exchange students of the injustices you had been served as of late. As if Lady Luck wanted to send an ‘F U’ herself, Solomon was the only one in Purgatory Hall when you arrived. Not the beautiful and benevolent Simeon, or Luke, who you thought of as an angelic younger brother, but Solomon, with a fox’s grin that was far too smug for your liking. And, unfortunately, the smugness only grew as you lamented about how abysmally bad your week had been thus far.
“Oh, MC,” he said, a teasing coo woven into his tone. Your attention shifted from his incredibly interesting ceiling to his incredibly boring head that he was propping up on his desk with his incredibly boring hand. Solomon may be one of your best friends, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t push your buttons all the damn time. “You’re so naive to the ways of the world.”
“Sorry I’m not a fancy pants magic bitch like you,” you grumbled with no real bite behind your words. Would you believe he then had the audacity to snicker at you? Because that’s exactly what he did. It took all of your strength plus a little extra from the Big Man Upstairs to not clock the white-haired menace into next week. “Solomon, explain to me what’s going on before I do something I won’t regret.”
Ever the fake pacifist, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, no need for violence. And, really, it’s your own fault that you don’t know about demon heats.”
Silence filled the room, leaving you to sit there and drown in it as Solomon seemingly decided the desk itself would make a much more comfortable seat than his chair. With just those few words he had managed to switch your brain from operating on Google Chrome to Internet Explorer, and what is the next thing he does? Perches on his desk like it was normal.
After some time passed with you buffering and Solomon preening as if he had just been graced by God, you finally managed to spit out, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
More snickering. Try as you might, you couldn’t fight off the blush that had been steadily creeping onto your cheeks, so you instead gave in and decided to find out as much as you could. “You mean, right now, they’re at home—”
“Jacking themselves off on anything of yours that they can get their cummy little demon mitts on? Ding ding ding, you’ve guessed it! Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been in your room already. Having a—” calculating eyes swept your form from head to toe before continuing irritatingly hesitantly, “presumably fertile female so close is akin to torture when they’re in heat, so what remains of your pheromones are probably the only thing they can smell at the moment.”
Taking the high road for once in your little gremlin life, you chose to ignore the ‘presumably fertile’ comment and stay focused on the topic at hand: the brothers are going through demon heats. “That is so unbelievably disgusting and hot at the same time.”
So some of your inner gremlin slipped out, sue you.
Solomon sighed as if he expected nothing more from you, white strands of hair falling onto his face as he pressed it into the palms of his hands. “Leave it to you to be turned on by the suffering of others.”
“Shut it, Solomon, you know what I mean.” Heat flared across your cheeks at the insinuation. You may be many things, but a sadist was not one of them; Lucifer had that title locked down anyway. “Dammit. What do I do, Solomon? Lucifer texted me saying that I can’t go back, so does he really expect me to wear the same clothes for however many days it takes for their heats to end?”
“Probably. He’s twisted like that. Ooh, what if he’s getting off to the idea that you’re—”
Before you had a chance to cut Solomon off from finishing a sentence that would have undoubtedly mortified you to no end, a series of rapid-fire buzzes from your phone did it for you. You had patted both yourself and the area around you on the bed down thoroughly only for Solomon to dangle your phone in the air. Warning bells sounded off in your head loud and clear the moment you noticed his cheeky grin.
“I think you should put this one on speaker.”
With a flick of his wrist, your phone sailed through the air and landed on the bed next to you after you failed to catch it. Ignoring Solomon’s snort, you flipped your phone over to see who was calling you. The name, along with everything you had just discussed with Solomon, caused your pulse to pound in your ears.
