Hmm looks like you want to squeeze more Chasing The Warmth / Autism AU out of me, mm?
I'd see it as a name for the chapter in which Rosinante reunites with Doffy on his undercover mission.
(Good Father Sengoku enjoyers, don't tell I didn't warn you: this story is not about him. In my AU I render him cold and neglectful, maybe even narcissistic to a point. But, your honor, I have reasons to think of him in this way, I will explore it more later on in the fic.)
This would consist of Rosi's inner turmoil, a clash between two very different personalities in his life: his brother and Sengoku, both voices now tearing at him and demanding something else, grief-wise, both asking to turn a blind eye to different facets of the past: Doflamingo trying to erase the patricide, Sengoku wanting Rosinante to abandon all hope of still having a brother, painting him a monster since the boy could remember.
But truth is always in the middle, right?
The grief left unseen can leave a toll on you.
And maybe the first thing Rosinante should do is exactly that - grieve. Especially to grieve his own almost wasted life, instead of trying to throw it out of the window should a good occasion occur.
There will be the slow untangling of Sengoku's voice still ringing in Rosi's head, filled to the brim with speeches about what a good Marine is, what is right and proper, what makes you weak and what a strong and admirable person. All empty names and boxes he was never able to fill in with his clumsy body and a hurting mind.
He's trying to discern between what were Sengoku's words, what was written down in the news, and what he himself remembered about Doflamingo, as the man he meets after all these years is nothing like he imagined - an invitation to comfort and a pair of waiting, outstretched arms.
Doflamingo doesn't register his brother's depression at first. He tries to just pull him back into his life like nothing happened (from Rosi's POV at least).
Rosinante cannot hide it anymore and... just straight up tells him he's been raised in a cult enforcing rigid credo, blind obedience, pristine-white clothing... And, well, isn't it a comfortable way to talk about the damage he took in Marines while not mentioning them by name? A perfect alibi to his less-than-ideal psychic state?
Doffy researches all cults in Rosi's former 'homeland' vicinity and swears to burn them to the ground.
Bonus points if the story cuts straight to Doflamingo-centered chapter which retells his story of trying to leave past in the past, to rebuild himself anew and all the ways he tried out to cope with Rosinante's loss. With mediocre success, of course.
Yeah, that would do I guess XD. Thank you so much for the prompt 🥺💖
tagging you back for the WIP title tag game!! tell me a bit about the WIP you are most passionate about rn 👀
WIP Title Tag Game
Prompt: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
Thanks @gali-la for tagging me 🥰✨! Ok, let's see what we got here:
Currently cooking:
1. Chasing The Warmth (Autism AU) - 7 files
2. The Altar Of Love, or: Tsuru's Unexpected Retirement Plans
3. Numancia Fitness: Prologue II
4. Ancient Aliens, or: Rosinante's Heavenly Roots
Solid WIPs, will/may continue later:
5. Salad Story
6. Palm Reader
7. Dofuwani / hairdresser Chiara
8. Aro/Ace Rosinante Character Study
9. Memory In The Cage (Amnesia AU) - 3 files
Brainworms but no real wordcount:
10. Board game for my autistic son
11. Numancia Flamingo (is sentient)
12. Mothman AU
13. Cancer (he was a lilly-livered man)
14. Save Yourself, or: Donquixote Brothers Dark Business Of Self-Help
Loose ideas / prompts:
15. Mister Sandman, or: Doflamingo's plea to end his solitude (puppet show)
16. Tsuru's Wash
17. Donquixote parents as abusers
18. Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us
19. Android Rosi
20. Hannah Montana Corazon Spy
21. Dear Diary
22. Goth Rosinante
Phew, that was a few! As per the ask - which WIP am I the most passionate about?
(Most recently, it's been Numancia Fitness - but it is being released this week probably, so you can just wait xD)
I think I should rather address the 14K thing - Chasing The Warmth. It's my baby. It's my home. It's 100% self-indulgent. It's the reason I didn't post anything new to AO3 since February.
Main plot points and themes:
- Rosinante is autistic and neither Sengoku, nor any of the Marines didn't care to accommodate his needs (neglect, depression)
- He likes birds a lot. Like, a whole lotta lot.
- Rosinante agrees to be sent on a mission to infiltrate the Donquixotes, because a) he imagines he'll be killed in no time b) he wants to see if there's anything of his brother left. Either way he will finally leave marines behind and everything else is a bonus
- Doflamingo looking for his brother in vain for half his life, with grief and longing getting the better of him, so when Rosi appears he just- wants to pour all this care into him, while still being his vile self in any other aspect of life
- troubles with changing sides and revealing betrayal
- some sweet revenge
- Rosinante's journey to regaining his life and making friends.
So, not everyone's cup of tea, but I need it like breathing xD
Snippettttt incoming [context: after Rosi shows up in Spider Miles, Doflamingo tries to part with a keepsake he found many years ago on the shore - an item so special to Rosinante he assumed what must have parted them was death]:
Oh, it was Sunday.
Bloody Sunday.
Not that it mattered now, but old habits die hard. Maybe it was time to weed them out by force. To finally anchor himself in the new reality around him, around them.
His study greeted him with an air of uncertainty, reflecting his feelings.
Doflamingo sat by the desk, took a deep breath, watching the light dance on the slightly dusted curtain. He sighed.
Anything to postpone a deciding look on the tiny doors before him, wooden wings hiding a secret in the middle of his room, built in the shape of the furniture so neatly, did a stranger pay a visit, their eye would not care to record it.
A savored keepsake, beating behind them, filled with memories.
Somehow, he didn't want to rip it out from the cabinet. It felt wrong, almost like this small object has grown fond of its habitat, got used to the silent praise and attention. Would the wooden entrails allow to be parted with their heart?
Some people praised gods on Sundays.
Did Celestial who passed away count as one of them?
Finally, it didn't matter now, granted his second coming. A god returning to walk amongst the living.
Doflamingo took the tiniest doorknobs between his fingers and pushed the doors open.
He freed it out of its dark cage: a small, porcelain bird.
The final ritual before parting with it, before returning it where it truly belonged, where it deserved to come back to.
He tumbled the surface gently, caressing the uneven, translucent enamel with his thumb.
It wasn't in his own taste, but after all these years, it didn't even occur to him: by now its whole look was akin to sacred.
After all, Rosinante loved it at first sight.
Flowy gradients of blue and turquoise hues decorating a simple silhouette, some feathers accentuated by a crude engobe underpainting, probably done hastily by tired hands in a sweatshop far, far away from their former home, by a worker doing their best to please customers he would never be able to meet.
A cheap souvenir.
A young god's insignia.
The memory of getting it could have been easily abandoned, forgotten under piles and piles of pleasant attractions they were accustomed to as children, fraying and rusted or obliterated by the sheer abundance of their former lifestyle.
But Doflamingo held this one dear to his heart, as it was a special day to his little Brother. And on Sundays, he would revive it and polish it anew - to never forget the joy.
Will he be able to take this gem out of the bezel of grief?
It wouldn't hurt to try.
He closed his eyes, reading the cracks in glassy surface with his fingers, tracing the sculpted feathers, a tiny beak, a pendant hole-
He dived into the memory. One of their living rooms, bathed in soft noon light. Spring was only starting to begin-
"Children, would you like to see the new attraction?", their father holding a gilded leaflet, presenting it before them.
"What's interesting in it? Many people have aviaries at home." Doffy wasn't amused by the prospect, eyes tired after barely glancing at the title.
"Well, this one's supposed to be the biggest one in Mariejois! Many, many birds you haven't seen before, from all around the world!", voice unwaveringly cheerful.
"Birds?!" Rosinante spun around as if summoned right from the round carpet under him. "How many?"
"Over nine thousand."
Well, Rosinante didn't know how many it was back then, but everything over twelve seemed to be a lot, and a thousand probably sounded like a fairytale.
"Doffy, I want to go! Will you go with us?"
He remember those pleading eyes, so sweet and warm, looking from beneath the golden fringe.
"Fine. Just for you, Barnacle." He smiled in amusement and messed that hair a bit.
They got ready to go, Rosi practically vibrating with excitement for the whole way (Doflamingo remembered, back then, he was suspecting it was an outburst of a yet unknown type of haki, an idea anticipated by the fiction books fed to him; a funny thought).
You can write me a comment if you'd like to be tagged - i don't have a lot of writer friends in here and I don't want to impose the game on you XD so feel free to ignore. I tag @mercyannmay , @shzdoffy , @veroinfaciem and @sugarpsalms ! Get ready for me to slip into your inbox later on!
