#CoraWeek2023

[nehswritesstuffs]

Cora Week 2023 - 1 - Smile

Someone said it was Cora Week? The prompts aren’t the best so I’m not linking to them (how the fck were those quotes sourced they’re horrid), but I was able to scrape some things together and work on my short form thanks to it.

503 words; idk about you but I find Mama and Papa Donquixote fascinating from a character perspective; where are the other two family members? The choice is up to you; bby!Rosi needs protecting no wonder Sengoku saw him and went “this is my son now”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Remember, darling,” Mother said, “your greatest weapon is your smile.”

Rosi glanced around at the dingy shack before letting out a shaky sniffle. “What if there is nothing to smile about?”

“There always is,” she replied gently. Mother stroked his hair and bent to kiss his brow; she hadn’t been out of bed in days. “As long as you are alive, there is always something to smile about.”

“Even… even if we’re poor and hated?”

“The poor are always hated by someone, and often unjustly so.” Her eyes seemed so sad that it made her young son hurt. “Your father and I used to hate the poor.”

“You did…?”

“We did, before we realized that the poor had more to hate us for than we ever could falsely justify hating them.” She let out a cough and Rosi got her a drink of water—it was clean for once, and they saved it for her. “That is why we wanted you and Doffy to live as normal children, so that you know not to hate them and instead see them as equals.”

“…but they still hate us,” Rosi stated. “Why should someone smile if they are hated?”

“You should smile, my darling, because you are doing your best.” He poked his nose and he rubbed it as she giggled. “You are alive, you are doing your best to be good and kind, and because of that, you should smile. It is your greatest weapon and best defense.”

“How…?”

“Well, it’s like this,” she said, putting the empty glass down so her son could join her in bed. “When I was a girl, I was taught how to be a noble lady. It was about how to act, how to dress, how to speak, but most importantly: how to smile. You can smile at your loved ones and your enemies and it mean very different things. It can hide everything you want and tell everything you want, all without speaking a word.”

“So you can use it to speak silently?”

“Yes. You can protest, you can protect, you can love, you can mock, all with a smile.” She hugged him tight and tickled his sides, causing him to squirm. “Please always remember to smile, Rosi.”

“I shall, Mama,” the boy beamed. “I’ll help you get better and you’ll see! Doffy and I will find a place where we can all live happily! We can smile together and everything will be good!”

“I know you will,” she replied, her own smile wan. “Just keep finding reasons to smile, Rosi. You’re a smart boy, and I know you can do that.”

“Yes, Mama.” He hugged her tightly and she let silent tears fall from her eyes—hopefully her lessons would stick with him well after she was gone, since they were not sticking with her other son. “Mama…?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“How did they teach you?”

She paused and considered that before nodding—yes, this was something she could do.

Mother taught him how to smile.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Cora Week 2023 - 3 - Season

It’s Cora Week, everyone, so time to celebrate our favorite doomed puppy clown with some fic!

Prior fills: Smile [FFN/AO3] - Gun [FFN/AO3]

580 words; trying to make sense of meteorology and hydrology in One Piece will make someone’s brain implode, so unless we get an explanation later on I’m going with the “fuck it” approach; the reasons Cora knows what he does is actually a huge clue into everything about him and it’s, like, good for him

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Few things were harsh like a North Blue winter.

Bitter cold whipped through the air and stung at Rosinante’s cheeks. It was different than the cold that seeped in through the nights of his childhood, with the thinner air that was artificially dehumidified when the foggy season settled in. No… this was heavy and moist—it had a quality he could only really describe as solid. Winds were more solid at sea-level and it made him chilled down to his bones and then some. Snow was going to move in soon, a warm air current from the West bringing with it all the moisture it could.

“I don’t get it,” Law grumbled in his side. The teen tried to pull the feathered cloak tighter around them, hoping for more warmth against the frigid air. He shouldn’t’ve come out for Rosinante’s cigarette, but the brat insisted.

“What’s not to get? It’s cold.”

“How do we get rain from the West Blue? I thought the Grand Line was in the way.”

Ah. That. “It’s only mostly in the way. The moisture in the air actually travels over what makes the Calm Belts calm and skips a decent portion of the Grand Line, since it has weird weather to begin with and the Calm Belts are actually one giant blanket of calm insulating Grand Line weather from the Blues and vice versa. We share a lot of our air with the West and our water with the East… though there are exceptions.”

“That’s… weird.” Law clung tighter and Rosinante felt bad. He threw the cigarette nub in the ocean and carried the boy back into the rock niche they were currently hunkered down in. They had provisions enough—it was Law’s health that was the most concerning part. “I don’t like weather—it doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes enough sense as anything in the world,” Rosinante shrugged. He sat down and let the kid crawl into his lap and cuddle close—Law doing so without feeling weird about it was a luxury he knew they were only really afforded by his height. “I can tell you how it works, if you want.”

“No thanks; I’ll stick to medicine. That at least makes sense.”

“Then explain, medically, that thing Buffalo ate and how it doesn’t strangle him to death.” A grunt. “See? Can’t fucking do it, can ya?”

“Devil Fruits are variables anyhow.”

“They are, but there’s more to it than that.” Rosinante braced himself as another gust of wind made it into their little sanctuary; maybe there would be enough driftwood around the pile of rocks they were parked on to sustain a fire for a few days. “Hey… when you’re better, let’s go to the East Blue. It’s warmer there.”

“Cora-san… I doubt we’ll find a hospital in time…”

“Nonsense! If we don’t find one here, we’ll go to the Grand Line! There’s an island that’s full of doctors! It’s cold as balls, and we’ll have to make sure we take the correct path, but they’ll help you if no one in this fucking sea can get their heads out of their asses! Only a little bit more time, Law… you’ll see.”

“Sure…” The teen burrowed further into the feathered cloak and whimpered in pain, hoping that the adult did not hear. Rosinante simply hugged the boy a bit tighter, hoping that he would be wrong about one thing in that the new day would bring at least a break in weather.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Cora Week 2023 - 7 - Smoke

It’s Cora Week, everyone, so time to celebrate our favorite doomed puppy clown with some fic!

Prior fills: Smile [FFN/AO3] - Gun [FFN/AO3]  - Season [FFN/AO3]  - [...]a change[...] [FFN/AO3]  - Family [FFN/AO3] - Fantasy AU [FFN/AO3]

511 words; remember kids: smoking (and by extension, vaping) absolutely ruins your lungs and health because we as human beings are not designed to inhale smoke; Bell-mère is a bad influence and we’ve all known a Bell-mère in our lives; very shippy, contains mention of these two horny teens doing what horny teens do best

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The ink-black sky above them twinkled with stars as the pair of teens laid on the roof of the building, still rumpled and sweaty from their lovemaking. Bell-mère took a pack of cigarettes from the jacket she’d been laying on and lit one. She sucked down the initial nicotine rush and held it in her lungs before letting it steam out through her nose and mouth.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She glanced at Rosinante and saw that he was staring at the sky in wonder. “You see so many stars out here.”

“You really don’t,” she replied. “You can see it best in the boonies where I’m from. There’s more up there than you can imagine.”

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah. There’s not just stars up there, but stardust, swirling and colorful and vibrant. I dunno how to explain it if you haven’t seen it.”

“Well, this is a lot of stars compared to what I grew up with,” Rosinante shrugged. “When I was really little, I lived in a place that was well-lit at night, and after that was an island with a big city. We never saw this many stars.” He watched as she took another drag and furrowed his brow. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Smoke.”

“Oh… picked it up to piss people off back home. It’s easy to bum spares off of officers here.”

“I thought it was the other way around.”

“Nah; it’s symbiotic, and it keeps me on their good sides.” She took the paper stick from her lips and held it towards him. “Want some?”

“I… I shouldn’t…”

“Rosi, we just fucked on Marine HQ’s roof and you are worried about a cigarette?” He rolled his eyes as he took the cigarette from her and inhaled slightly. It felt as though he was choking and he coughed all the smoke out, nearly gagging in the process. “Lightweight.”

“I’m not a smoker,” he replied thinly, still recovering from the coughing fit.

“Growing up around all the officers? I’m surprised.” She took another drag and tried to make it look as sultry as possible—it was working for him, honestly. “I can fix that.”

“I’d rather you not.”

Bell-mère let smoke pour from her nostrils and she stubbed the partial cigarette out on a shingle so she could finish it later. She leaned in and began to nibble lightly on the back of Rosinante’s jaw. “In the meantime, you ready for another round?”

“Dad’s gonna wonder where I am…”

“What, still in recovery mode there?” she teased.

“No, just, I’m the one with the Fleet Admiral for a dad and he’s going to come looking for me soon…”

“He’ll send the goat, and you know that thing won’t do shit.”

“I’d rather the goat not be staring at us.”

“Chicken shit.” She stopped her advance, yet did not move, instead keeping herself snug against him. “You know, you’re going to have to come to my home village one of these days.”

“Oh yeah…? Why’s that?”

“I want to show you stars.”

Yeah. He think he’d like that.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Cora Week 2023 - 5 - Family

It’s Cora Week, everyone, so time to celebrate our favorite doomed puppy clown with some fic!

Prior fills: Smile [FFN/AO3] - Gun [FFN/AO3]  - Season [FFN/AO3] - [...]a change[...] [FFN/AO3]

529 words; I’m curious about how Doffy and Rosi reconnected and this is more of a closer take on what might have happened… potentially

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Wait here,” the drippy man sniffled before going past a door. The other man that was with them—the one with the high voice—stayed in the corridor with Rosinante, forcing him to sit. He put his hand on Rosinante’s shoulder and pushed him into the chair. His hipbone hit the armrest and he knew there would be a bruise, yet he couldn’t make a sound. He kept his hold on his Devil Fruit and thanked whatever would listen that he did some extra training with Garp before leaving.

It was never meant to be easy and yet he did it all the same.

Shouting could be heard from inside the room where Drippy went into—the man himself and someone else. Rosinante tried to listen to what was going on, though didn’t need to, as the door burst open and his brother came storming out into the corridor.

“Where is he?!” he demanded. Oh… his voice was so much like Father’s, but harsher… without all the love his held. Falsetto pointed at Rosinante and Doffy turned, allowing the newcomer a decent look at him. They were the same tall and lean, same blond hair, and those damned sunglasses were still sitting on his face. Did he somehow find an adult’s pair? Was there someone who made him a custom set? Doffy’s mouth dropped open as he was struck speechless.

“Young Master?!” Drippy wheezed as he finally caught up. He appeared to have some blood in what was dripping from his nose. “Don’t worry—we’ll get rid of him at once!” He want to say more, only for Doffy to raise his hand as an order to stop.

“How do I know you are my brother?” Doffy asked, glaring at Rosinante. The latter mimed writing and Doffy snapped his fingers—a pen and pad was procured for him.

I have not been able to talk since shortly after we were separated. Doctors say it was trauma.

“Is that so?” The brothers stared at one another, the silence punctuated by Drippy’s sniffles and the clock ticking on the wall. “What did we do directly before that?”

Try to atone for Father’s sin.

“How…?”

You killed him with a pistol and presented his head to the Celestials at the gates of Marie Geoise—we were denied.

“Then it is you…” Doffy knelt in front of Rosinante and pushed the hair out of his brother’s face, showing the shockingly-similar facial features adorned with cosmetics. For the bit, he had been told when a palette had been shoved in his hands. “I’ve been looking for you all this time…”

I’m home, Doffy.

“You are…” Doffy pressed their foreheads together before standing and glaring at Drippy and Falsetto. “Get the Family together! We need to welcome my brother into our ranks!”

“Right away, Young Master,” Falsetto said, bowing his head before dragging the incredulous Drippy off. Doffy went and hugged Rosinante tighter, almost threatening to crush him in that way only a sibling could really attempt.

“I’m never going to lose you again,” he whispered hoarsely. “You are my responsibility.”

Rosinante let out a short laugh and hugged back—Operation Fallen Dragon was on.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Cora Week 2023 - 2 - Gun

It’s Cora Week, everyone, so time to celebrate our favorite doomed puppy clown with some fic!

Prior fill: Smile [FFN/AO3]

521 words; you can read it as gentle shipping or as firmly platonic I don’t care; you thought I’d write That Scene didn’t you, DIDN’T YOU; I can only imagine the legendary accidents that our dude caused and I’m sure that some Rules were created after he went through Academy/training/whatever the fuck they do in Marineford

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Trying out for Honor Guard had honestly been Sengoku’s idea. It would work on his hand-eye coordination or something like that. Rosinante wasn’t entirely sure, but signed up anyhow and pretended he hadn’t been bullied into it. He had been given a prop rifle wrapped in white fabric and told to go practice—something that he was increasingly nervous about trying.

“You’re going to doom yourself if you keep worrying like this,” Bell-mère said idly. She was sitting under the shade of the nearby tree, completely unbothered by the potential horror that was her fellow cadet awkwardly passing the prop rifle from one hand to the other. Any gun was a danger in his hands.

“I’m fifteen!” he whined. “I should be able to do this!”

“You do realize that most fifteen-year-olds have never held a gun in their lives?”

“Yeah, but…” Rosinante shrugged and accidentally dropped the prop gun into the dirt. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re trying to please Sengoku—what’s there to get?” She chewed on the end of her cigarette and scowled at her friend. He was really getting on her nerves and she was trying to study.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. Rosinante picked up the prop rifle and could feel the look Bell-mère was going him. “What…?”

“Your grip’s all off, you goober,” she scoffed. She took the prop gun from his hand and stepped back, giving herself plenty of room to twirl and toss the rifle, ending the display with a throw up into the air that allowed for way more flips than Rosinante was able to count. Bell-mère caught the prop rifle deftly, as though it hadn’t even left her hands. “See? Like that.”

“You have the hand-eye coordination of a professional thief.”

“Morgan had me at a couple drills before I got bored,” she admitted. “That was before Sengoku decided you could be a soldier with those two left feet of yours.”

“I’ll grow out of it,” he mumbled. “I just gotta practice.”

“Tsuru will probably make a proper officer of her granddaughter before we can whip you into shape,” she joked. Bell-mère dropped her cigarette and ground it out with her heel before placing her hands on his, her touch light. “Here, it’s like this.” She readjusted his grip slightly and stepped back. Once she nodded, he went and flipped the prop rifle in the air, it landing back in his hands with ease. “See? Not bad, eh?”

“Maybe I can do this…” He stared at the prop in his hands, heart swelling with emotion as he smiled to himself. “…he won’t regret this…”

“If you really do outgrow this clumsiness, then keep it up as an act,” she suggested. “Use it to your advantage.”

“I guess,” he pouted. Rosinante tried to flip the prop rifle again and it went flying across the training yard, nearly hitting some officers in the meantime. Both teens cringed at the sight of the very fake gun making a very not-fake hole in the barracks’ wall. The officers looked at them and Bell-mère immediately pointed at Rosinante—no way she was getting nailed for his shit.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Cora Week 2023 - 6 - Fantasy AU

It’s Cora Week, everyone, so time to celebrate our favorite doomed puppy clown with some fic!

Prior fills: Smile [FFN/AO3] - Gun [FFN/AO3]  - Season [FFN/AO3]  - [...]a change[...] [FFN/AO3] - Family [FFN/AO3]

1062 words; I was given an opening to write a fantasy AU and I’m running with it; basically everything’s the same except for the addition of one weird detail that could make or break the show nbd; I flirt with very recent manga spoilers with this one so please be forewarned; this is by far the longest of the fills and that’s alright since I wanted to make it LONGER but restrained myself because that was not the purpose here; technically contains stuff from the prior fill but not really

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You must remember,” his father had said, so long ago now. It had been a quiet night, with Mother embroidering by the fire and Doffy already asleep from the day’s adventures. Father had pulled Rosi aside and set him on his knee like the proud papa he was. “You are only Human, Rosinante, but a very special Human.”

“Cousin Mjsogard says we are gods,” the boy parroted. “What does that mean?”

“It means that your cousin believes a lie, no more,” Father replied. He sighed, which he often did while talking about cousins and aunts and uncles and neighbors. “You, your mother, and I… we were all born as Humans, just as much as many of the people in Mary Geoise. It is something to love about yourself, to embrace, to love…”

“…and Doffy too!” Rosi’s face fell as he saw his father’s expression grow weary. “Is… is Doffy not a Human?”

“He is not, unfortunately,” Father said. “His birth had been foretold for a long, long time—no. He is not Human, not like us… and even then, not like you.”

“Like me…?”

“Yes.” Father’s face was so incredibly sad as he stroked his younger son’s hair. “You are the only one immune to Doffy’s power. It is not powerful now, but given time and practice, it will be deadly to others. You must learn how to protect him and those around you, or else the tales will come true.”

“What tales?”

“The Death of Joyboy and the Age of True Darkness.” Father stared at the fire for a moment, thinking. “It is why we shall be moving in a few weeks.”

“…moving?! Where?!”

“That remains to be seen, but you mustn’t tell, because Doffy mustn’t know until we are preparing to leave,” Father said. “This is a big change, and it will hopefully help you as you care for your brother.”

Rosi pondered that. “What is Doffy…?”

“That, my child, is something for another day.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Rosi was seven when he finally learned what his brother was.

“…a cockatrice…?” the boy wondered. He frowned almost exaggeratedly. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“The books in our old library said it was a powerful creature that could kill by looking into its eyes. Sometimes touching, sometimes breathing.” The older boy sifted through the trash and found some bread that wasn’t quite terrible, passing it to his brother. “They’re a type of dragon.”

“…but why…?”

“A cockatrice is supposed to be born when it’s time for the Celestial Dragons to defeat Joyboy,” Doffy said. “I was supposed to be the one to bring in the True Age of Dragons… but Father went and ruined it.”

“Why would you want to destroy Joyboy? People ask him to come and free them.”

“Exactly.” Rosi shivered as Doffy’s face got real scary. “Only the powerful get to truly be free. That’s what I’ll be: the most powerful person in the world. Greater than I—”

“No…!” Rosi dropped the bread and put his hands over his brother’s mouth. “We’re not supposed to!”

Doffy shrugged Rosi off and huffed indignantly—he knew his brother was right. “All I need to do is get strong, and then I can find Joyboy and look at him.”

“Why… why would you want to do that…?” Rosi picked up the bread and saw it was still close to edible. “He could be old already, or not even born. He could be a she, or an it, or a they—do we know if Joyboy is even Human? Already a slave?”

“All I know is this,” Doffy took off his sunglasses, his glare piercing and scary and full of rage, “is going to bring the New Age, and instead of the Dragons at the top, it will be me… us…” Something rustled in the garbage and both boys looked—the moment the elder brother saw the rat it began to convulse and froth at the mouth. Rosi turned away as Doffy reached for a rock, the sickening thud confirming that the poor rat had been put out of its misery. “Father can roast this over a fire.”

Rosi was certain he did not like rats, though he did pity them.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“He’s done a convincing job, Young Master, but how do we know this man is telling the truth?” Diamante frowned. He, Pica, and Trebol were in Doflamingo’s office, with the strange mute man who claimed to be their leader’s long-lost younger brother sitting off to the side. The three Elite Officers were wary of this man—he looked so much like their leader—and wondered.

“Indeed,” Trebol agreed. He sucked up a drip of snot into his nose with a snort. “Identifying marks can be faked and information learned.”

“Then let’s try something that can’t be faked or learned,” Doflamingo stated, voice even and dark. The Elite Officers all shuddered as Doflamingo went past them and stood in front of the stranger. “Stand.”

He did, then scribbled something on his pad of paper: What do you want?

“Look me in the eyes.”

Doflamingo took his sunglasses off and stared at the man. He stared right back, meeting his mangled gaze head-on without so much as a falter. Tears began to well in his good eye and he palmed them away.

“It’s him,” he said, trying not to sniffle. Doflamingo put his sunglasses back on and hugged Rosinante. “Welcome home, brother.”

“He survived?!” Diamante gasped.

“He’s not writhing in pain…” Pica marveled.

“Most people are rendered helpless in an instant!” Trebol puzzled.

“Not my brother—he’s the only one it doesn’t work against… always has.” Doflamingo led Rosinante towards the Elite Officers with a grin. “Gentlemen, I do believe we have a new Corazón for the Heart Seat after all.” He felt Rosinante tug at his shirt and he looked at the writing pad.

Rendered helpless? I thought your glare killed.

“Not anymore,” Doflamingo replied sadly. “It hurts, it tortures, but it’s not like it should be. You can thank our fool of a father for that.”

But you—Rosinante stopped writing when his brother’s hand rested on his.

“You have a lot to learn about the last few years, dearest brother,” he whispered. “Don’t worry—I’ll make sure you stay at my side… at the top…”

Rosinante gulped and nodded, though inwardly was doing a dance for joy.

He was in.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Cora Week 2023 - 4 - no one has the power to stop a change that comes through music

It’s Cora Week, everyone, so time to celebrate our favorite doomed puppy clown with some fic!

Prior fills: Smile [FFN/AO3] - Gun [FFN/AO3] - Season [FFN/AO3]

597 words; this is honestly the best of the quote prompts and it’s a translation of Ado’s New Genesis so I decided to go with that bc New Genesis is fire; this one is definitely shippy and you should read it as such

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Leaning against the wall, Rosinante sipped at his drink and watched the rest of the partygoers as they seemed to have a genuinely nice time. It was not his first Cadet Graduation Ball he had attended (he still had not forgiven Sengoku for dressing him in that child’s sized captain’s getup when he was ten) and he was certain it would not be his last. Conversation and laughter filtered in through the music as officers went and tried to stake their claims at successors and proteges, the new meat being led about more like dazed debutantes than military officers.

“One more coot comes up to me and they’re getting hit where it hurts most.” Rosinante didn’t need to look to know that Bell-mère had joined him. Formal settings were things she eschewed on the best of days and he knew that it wasn’t getting any better. “I’ve been asked about my future ambitions more time than I can fucking count.”

“I’m sure Tsuru will save you if you ask nicely.”

“…except I don’t want her to get the wrong idea and think I’m joining up with her Discount Kuja Brigade,” Bell-mère scoffed. Rosinante glanced over at her and saw that she had way too much hard liquor in that glass for it to have been anything but overpoured from the start. “You’ve known most of these windbags since you were a kid; how’d you do it?”

“Poorly.” He stared out over the crowd and sighed heavily. “At least I know it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“…because you’ll get your brother.”

“…and you’ll protect your Home Blue.” It was nice, knowing each other’s goals without asking. So much time had passed since that conversation that it all seemed like second nature. “We’ll have to make sure we find one another after we’ve achieved our goals.”

“Meaning you’ll come be my trophy wife in the East, because that shit will never be done.”

“Not that I’m arguing against the scenario, but the East Blue…? Really…? Sengoku’s reports from there are all dry and uneventful to the point they’re a pain to read.”

“Took his work home?”

“More like made me read it to get used to paperwork formatting before I was an official recruit.” He took another sip of his drink, only to nearly choke on it as Bell-mère grabbed his arm. “Hey…!”

“Hide me! Akainu’s coming!” They deposited their drinks as she pulled him onto the dance floor and they kid amongst the couples and groups of friends. “He’s been pressuring me into joining his division and I need that like a hole in the head.”

“Can’t you just tell him that your mind’s made up?”

“Ha, you try.” The two of them held one another as they went and slowly danced, glad for the cover. “It’s like you’re immune or something.”

“It’s just another dumb advantage I have,” he shrugged. They kept dancing and he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Uh… Belle…?”

“What…?”

As she looked up at him, he gave her the most brilliant smile possible, making her heart feel as though it was melting. She could barely hear the music that surrounded them, but she could feel it. He could feel it… what a fucking asshole. Bell-mère let out a faint laugh before leaning her head forward and pressing her forehead to his chest.

“You’ll have to give me coordinates to wherever you land,” he said quietly. “I think I can manage an excuse or several to make my way to you.”

“Let’s actually get there first,” she huffed.