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Sabaody & Sandwiches Do Not Go Well Together

Summary:

All Law wanted was a peaceful break before heading into the New World. He hasn't even run into any of the so-called Supernovas yet, so that should count as a win in his book.

Alas, Doflamingo's shadow is everpresent and inescapable.

Oh yea, Law's crewmates are also assholes, did he forget to mention that?

Notes:

This is my first fic so please be nice to me.

Constructive criticism and future chapter suggestions are well welcomed, as this crack fic can’t feed itself!

I’d also like to shout out Ritu (AO3 @ hitsuzenz) for being my editor, beta reader, and all-around lover of chaos and for suggesting writing this fic in the first place.

Also this: https://pin.it/6wMinvU
Basically, it's an image of Doflamingo chasing after Law as a flamingo. But AO3 won't let me insert an image in the notes section of a fic, so here's the link to it instead if you were curious.

This image is the inspiration for the fic’s creation, as it had me laughing and caused me to take the concept of it wayyy too seriously. (And to share it with anyone who’d find it as funny as I did.)

Anyways - hope you enjoy!

Work Text:

“Captain! Come feed the ducks! They’re adorable!” Shachi yells as he crouches near a small pond inhabited by the creature Law despises with a passion. Birds. Motherfucking birds.

Yes. You heard that right: Law has a crippling fear of birds. 

It all started with just one pink-feathered bastard and just devolved from there. 

You see, there’s one well-kept secret Donquixote Doflamingo keeps hidden from the rest of the world, and that’s the truth behind his devil fruit. To the public, he boasts the fearsome Ito Ito no Mi; the String-String fruit. But only those closest to Doflamingo or who knew him from his days in Spider Miles know the true name of his devil fruit: Tori Tori no Mi, Model Flamingo. 

You heard him right, the flamingo bastard has a fucking flamingo devil fruit. Who would’ve thought, right? Too obvious? Too on-the-nose? That’s just what a 10-year-old Law thought, too. 

Until “the incident”. But that’s a story for another day.

Today, Law and his crew are out sightseeing at the beautiful, peaceful island of Sabaody Archipelago. Well, if you ignore the massive slave trading markets and kidnappings for said slave trading. Then yes, happy and peaceful and all those other ooey-gooey feelings Law isn’t particularly fond of. 

Too bad the famous carnival his crew was looking forward to visiting is filled with far too many flamingo-related decorations. From rideable flamingos on the carousel to those fucking pink plastic lawn things some idiots think are fashionable. The Ferris wheel was pleasant enough, though. Seagulls flew by a little too close for comfort, so Law might’ve leaned into his fluffy Bepo a bit more than usual. But hey, can you blame him? Bepo’s soft and makes good bird-repellent, being a polar bear mink. 

“For the last time Shachi, I’m not going to feed a goddamn duck any of that disgusting bread!” a begrudged Law shouts back to his crew, from a very safe distance away. 

Law loves his crew and all, but sometimes they just grate his nerves a little too much. Especially when it comes to his “irrational childish phobia”. It’s not his fault Doflamingo keeps his true devil fruit a secret! No one would believe him and laugh in his face if he said Doflamingo was the cause of his fear of birds. No, not fear, Trafalgar D. Water Law isn’t afraid of fucking birds. No matter how many times he’s been chased up a tree by said birds. And yes, Law knows (most) birds can indeed fly, but Law’s survival instincts might just so happen to kick in whenever those feathered bastards look at him weirdly with their beady little eyes. 

“Come on, Captain! It’s not like that time with the geese! These ducks are used to people feeding them. They won’t bite you, or squawk at you, or chase you up a tree…” Penguin continues, holding in a muffled laugh. “You’ve got to get over this fear of birds, Captain. You’re the goddamned Surgeon of Death! We can’t have our mighty captain be cowed by a mere duckling.”

As much as he loves his crew, they can be real asses sometimes. They’ve all somehow unanimously decided to dedicate their lives to freeing their Captain from his pathetic phobia. Just because he got over his fear of penguins doesn’t count for jack shit! They hardly count as birds! Those cowards can’t even fly! Although Law will admit that being semi-ok with penguins makes his submarine much more comfortable to navigate in. Screeching in an underwater metallic box whenever a penguin got too close for comfort was a bit grating on everyone’s nerves. Thank the gods for Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin back at Swallow Island all those years ago. Even if they were being annoyingly nosy bastards while doing it. 

Law appreciates what his crew is trying to do for him, as much as he hates to admit it. But no amount of “innocent and cuddly” birds can erase the years of trauma Doflamingo has put him through as a child. So, Law just does what Law does best. Act all cool and unbothered until his nerves get the best of him and hopefully walk away with his pride intact. 

“Alright! Fine, I’m coming. I’ll toss one - I repeat ONE slice of bread at the damned thing then you’ll let me go, alright?” Law concedes as he slowly marches towards his doom, “We still need to plan for whatever is happening at that Slave Auction house later today. I’ve got a feeling with all these Supernovas around something is going down, and we need to be prepared in case the Marines get involved.”

Taking a peek at the Slave Auction house would also give him a bit of insight as to what “Joker” has been up to recently. Apparently, he’s the king of a country now. Nothing good could come out of feeding that egregious ego of his - not to mention the poor state the citizens of the said country must be in. Just being on the bastard’s crew as a child is enough to send shivers down his spine. 

Pushing those memories from his mind, Law saunters over to the pond’s edge and glares at the small ducklings he’s about to attempt to feed. Shachi, smiling at Law like a parent would at their child as they are trying something new, hands Law a slice of wheat bread from one of the sandwiches his crew had deceitfully decided to buy for lunch. Traitors to the bread overlords. 

“At least it’s not the nasty white bread this time…” Law mumbles, carefully holding the bread by the corner as if its mere presence were an insult to him. There's still mayo smeared to it from Shachi’s sandwich; he could’ve at least been considerate enough to clean that shit off. 

Law returns his ire to the winged fuckers floating before him, still a safe distance away so he can make a quick escape if the need arises. Just as Law is sucking in a breath and ready to meet his fate, a quiet chant is heard behind him. 

“Captain. Captain. Captain! Captain!! CAPTAIN!!! CAPTAIN!!!” The entirety of the Heart Pirates begins cheering. 

Small families and children pause and give him weird, judgmental looks. What, have they never seen a lanky emo covered in tattoos with eye bags deeper than the sea awkwardly standing by a duck pond, arm shakily outstretched as if it might be bitten off at any given moment? No? Well too bad. Unless you’re paying then keep walking, this isn’t a clown show for peepers to be watching. 

In fact, if Law remembers correctly, there is some circus act going on down the street. He saw some weirdo in a checkered scarf wielding a sword atop a unicycle. Not to mention the white fur crop-topped fashion disaster of a man spinning a whip and coaxing a lion to jump through a hoop. All they need is a clown with a bright red nose to complete their crazy troupe. Whatever, as long as they’re not bothering Law they can be as obnoxious as they so please. 

If only these passersby could quit their gawking and get a move on before Law passes out from being in the vicinity of these beaked, bread-loving bastards. 

He would also appreciate it if his ass of a crew could knock off their cheerleading act. At least they know better than to sing their “Captain’s Cheer,” as they belovingly named it, in public. The last time heard them “practicing” it, he swapped all their limbs for the day. 

Law personifies as much “fuck off or die” energy into his subsequent glare toward his crew, and that shuts them right up. He was about to subject the growing crowd to the same fate, but they seemed to take the hint and fled the scene. 

Just as Law was about to return to the task at hand, he felt something wrap around his hand. It didn’t feel like teeth, but it didn’t feel NOT like teeth either. 

(Ducks don’t have teeth. They have comb-like projections, called lamellae, that are a part of their bills. Lamellae are wide or spatula-shaped and function as a sieve to strain unwanted particles from their food. These help to reposition food as they prepare to gulp it down. Most birds have these. Thanks, Google - the more you know.)

Now, Law may be a doctor, but he’s no dentist. And whatever horror he was about to encounter if he turned his head toward his captor would undoubtedly result in him “screaming like a little girl,” as Penguin has so eloquently phrased it many times before. 

So, Law did the only logical thing he could do. 

“Room: Amputate.” 

He cuts his hand off. It’s a lost cause now. 

Good thing he was using his left hand when attempting to feed those feathered freaks of nature. 

“Room: Shambles.”

Law is suddenly up a palm tree minus a hand. 

A loud splash and squawk are heard from the pond. Many other noises also occur, from a mother’s scream to a child’s weirdly fascinated shout of “COOL!!”

But most notable, of course, are the ranged reactions of his crewmates. 

“CAPTAIN!!”

“Uhhggggggg….”

“HAHAAAHAA!!!!!”

“…you owe me 100 beri, Penguin.”

Did Law forget to mention how much he hates his crew sometimes? 

“Fucking birds.”

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