#cool roof materials

[citywideroofingtarzana]

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Citywide Roofing 6117 Reseda Blvd, Tarzana, CA 91335 (818) 405-8656 https://citywide-remodeling.com/los-angeles-ca/ https://citywide-remodeling.business.site/

[citywide-roofing-sacramento]

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When it comes to keeping your home cool during scorching summer days, Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento has you covered with our innovative Cool Roofs. Our cool roof technology is engineered to reflect sunlight and absorb less heat, resulting in lower indoor temperatures and reduced energy costs. By opting for a cool roof, you not only enhance the comfort of your living space but also contribute to a greener environment by decreasing your carbon footprint.

Experience the benefits of cool roofs and chill out in style with Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento. Say goodbye to sweltering heatwaves and hello to a more energy-efficient home. Contact us today to learn more about how our cool roofs can transform your living space and schedule your consultation.

Don't miss out on the opportunity to stay cool and save on energy bills. Reach out to Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento now and take the first step towards a more comfortable and eco-friendly home! Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento Sacramento, CA (888) 9335939 https://citywide-remodeling.com/ https://citywide-roofing-and-remodeling-sacramento.business.site

[arc-hus]

Floating Bamboo House, Hồng Thái, Vietnam - H&P Architects

[rowavolo]

omg ok hi hi hi how do you display your plushies?? I used to have this shelf for them but eventually it was too small for how many there was so I got a toy hammock (unfortunately means some of them are hidden but such is fate)

!!!! Ok well in the past I've sort of had to hide them away or find somewhere on my bed or shelves for them! At some point I had a spare mattress laying beside my bed and I'd line a lot of them along that.

But recently I got a toy hammock, I had it up before but since moving I haven't had the motivation to put it back just yet, but I kept a lot of smaller/more 'vertical' plushies in it, then some bigger ones up the back so I could still see 'em!

But now, I have a whole bunch of space above my cupboards, like, it lines the whole wall, so they're being lined up along there!! It's just thick enough for two layers, one of big fellas and one of small/medium!!

[laxreehotel]

Explore a range of roofing options, including classic tiles, robust metal roofing, versatile tin sheets, metal sheeting offering structural strength, specialized coatings for enhanced durability, and innovative cool tiles designed for energy efficiency. Make informed choices about roofing materials to suit your preferences and climate needs.

[warnerism]

Wood - Beach Style Exterior

[aangelinakii]

EVER SEEN.

— you have the prettiest eyes i've ever seen.

summary : you've been by damian's side for so long, you've seen everything. one night, the sun is lowering below gotham, but damian is watching something else.

note : if you can't tell i LOVE basing my fics off bea songs i literally laurv her saur muchhhh

whenever wayne manor got too loud, too crowded, too overwhelming, damian always found himself making his way back to you. this wasn't a now-thing, this has been happening since he was still a feisty young kid, constantly underestimated, constantly jabbed at. but you were the calm in his hectic life that taught him "normal" can be possible for someone like him.

someone raised by assassins, someone whose father is the richest man in the city. someone you appreciated nonetheless.

tonight, after a rather tedious dinner (jason was upset at bruce again for letting the joker kill him that one time, and stephanie was hogging the roast potatoes), damian shifted away to his bedroom and fled the mansion through a crack in his window.

you remember the first time he appeared on the other side of your window, knocking. living in gotham, you'd immediately assumed these were going to be your last living moments, but when you saw the spiky hair of your best friend on the other side, all worries subsided.

it had happened after a few months of friendship – when you were unsure where exactly you stood in his eyes, whether you were friends, best friends, or acquaintances – and damian had opened up about home, how it could be a lot. of course it could; no matter what type of household you live in, it can always become a lot.

"come round mine," you'd said, and saw damian physically retract. confusion? disgust? you'd never know. "here's my address. just knock on my window, my roof has an amazing view of the city, and no one knows it's there."

no one would know he was there. so, later that night, he appeared.

although the first time, it wasn't the last.

almost ten years later, damian was escaping from his bedroom at wayne manor, a mansion overfilled, overloaded by now. it had started off as once every couple of months, but, as the two of you grew, and damian's heart began to swell each time you spoke, it turned weekly. if you're lucky, maybe twice a week.

room dark, save for the dim lamp lit on your bedside table, you were focused on your phone. gotham outside your window had been shut out, locked away, blocked by a curtain. nothing could come in and get you tonight. not until...

knock, knock, knock.

eyebrow raising, you placed your phone down carefully onto the sheets and sat up. damian didn't say he was coming round tonight, but, then again, he never said when he was – but it was expected. he's already been round three times this week, already out of the ordinary.

you approached the window and carefully peeled back the curtain, eyebrows furrowed, but the tension in your forehead dissipated once your gaze set on the boy on the other side of the glass, his cheeky smile recipe for one of your own.

reaching out to unlock the window, you pushed it up, allowing a cool breeze to flutter in. that impish smile on his lips, damian moved to rest his elbows on the ledge.

"roof?" he hummed, peering up at you with his pale green eyes, which spiked as the darkness was vaguely illuminated by the lamp leaking out from your room.

despite trying to play off as annoyed – surprised, even – you struggled to keep the smile from your lips as you looked down at him, fingers gripping the plush material of the curtain. "this is, like, the fourth time you've come round," you chuckled, corner of your lip twitching with the ghost of a smile.

damian merely shrugged, resting his chin on his arm, tilting his head until his cheek met the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

the way he looked at you caused your heart to pang, and it hadn't stopped for ten years.

allowing a few moments to pass for effect, your gaze lingered on his, before you carefully pushed his elbows off the window ledge, and shuffled onto it yourself. damian took a step back, holding a hand out for you to take, helping you to the metal grating of the fire exit on the side of your room, which would lead up to the roof; your place.

just as you had told him that one day however many years ago, the roof of your apartment had an amazing view of gotham; the best, if you wanted to argue that. it was just a flat, no one would expect it, which was why it was so perfect for the two of you – no one to disturb you, perfect to just talk.

before you could even sit, damian was tugging off his grey sweatshirt, and placing it down on the tile beside him.

you gave a chuckle. "what are you doing?"

"don't want your pyjamas to get dirty," he responded, patting the cotton as he peered up at you, before turning to look at the pollution of lights along the city skyline.

your eyes lingered on him for a moment before you sat down on his folded sweatshirt, tucked to give you just enough room to stay clean. he was always casually thoughtful like that, not even giving it a second thought before doing something, and then acting like it didn't just change the entire trajectory of your perspective on him.

"so, what happened this time?" you hummed after some comfortable silence, but damian only gave a croon as he looked over at you, and you glanced back. "i mean, i'm assuming you didn't just want to come see me."

"oh," your best friend replied, a soft chuckle to his response as he turned back to the skyline. "yeah, just..." he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his raven hair. "a lot going on. wanted to get away." damian took a break in his words and looked back curiously at you. "if that's okay?"

you gave a laugh, prepared to tease him. "oh, so you only want to see me when there's "a lot going on." typical."

"hey, you know i don't mean it like that," damian groaned, elbowing you lightly in the side, his words unable to disguise the smile in his tone.

once the joking energy had faded from the air, you turned to him with a calmer voice. "you know it's always okay to come round, damian," you smiled. "even when there isn't a lot going on. just whenever you want. for you, there's always time."

as you peered over at him, front of his face just barely illuminated by the distant gotham city lights, his eyes trailed over to you, small smile upon his lips. he focused in on you for a moment, vaguely nodding, before turning back to the view.

after knowing him so long, you recognised that as gratitude, and you didn't comment any further, simply turning to look at gotham, too.

you gave a soft sigh, bringing your legs up to your chest, to rest your chin upon your knee. "if you ignore everything wrong with this place, gotham could be one of the prettiest cities in the world."

"tokyo's pretty nice," damian hummed in return, leaning back on his hands against the tiling of the roof. "not sure if gotham could compare to that."

"never seen tokyo. that would be nice."

"we could go one time." damian looked over at you, the ghost of a smile along his lips.

"you'd do that with me?"

damian nodded softly, expression shrinking, sort of bashful now. his thoughtful eyes lingered on yours, and you felt yourself grow self-conscious, so you turned away.

"you know, you've always had the most amazing eyes," damian piped up, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the vroom of cars below.

heart catching in your throat, you looked back up at him, lips parted in a quiver. "sorry?"

that expression on your face, he mistook for horror, and the soft smile on damian's mouth disappeared almost immediately. "oh– i'm sorry, i... shouldn't have said that." he quickly turned away, horror visible in his own eyes, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth in distaste.

all these years... did his heart pound in his chest each time you spoke his name, as yours did when he spoke yours? did he have to brush his palms against the knees of his pants before knocking on your window? was his first thought every morning as he opened his eyes.. you?

"hey," you hummed, shuffling closer to him, not minding that your pants were half-against the tile, carefully taking his wrist in your fingers to peel his hand away from his mouth. "it's okay, i'm... i'm not mad, i just..."

you felt yourself begin to shrink up. take a breath.

"thank you." his eyes met yours, and, at the sight of your smile, his own mouth melted into a soft twinkle. "i'm not mad. at all. i just... you feel the same?"

a flicker of recognition flashed in damian's green eyes, and his fingers absently moved to lace into yours.

"the same?" he hummed, hopeful.

[elysianightsss]

First dates always end bad.

Summary: You stress about your first date with John only to realise there was nothing to worry about.

You were ready. Almost. Make up? Done. Hair? Done. Clothes? On. Anxiety? Through the roof.

You were going out to lunch with John, fuck your heart was pounding so hard it was starting to hurt. What if you said the wrong thing? You thought as you grabbed your keys and stuffed them in your little side bag.

What if you trip over? You worry as you pulled on a cute pair of wedges. What if he rejects you? You breathe harshly as you shift through your sundresses trying to decide which one he would like the best.

Breathing harshly became hyperventilating. Your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to control yourself. How were you this panicked over a fucking meal with him? Had he given you any reason to panic? Any reason to worry?

“No, so chill the fuck out.” You scolded yourself and grabbed your phone.

You: What’s your favourite colour? 10:49am. delivered.

Your leg shook as you waited for his reply, palms sweaty, body temperature rising. You moved off the bed to open the window, letting the cool breeze into your bedroom. Turning to the left you notice your mirror and particularly how you look in the reflection. Nothing but bra, underwear and wedges on.

You stood up straight, breathing in and relishing in the confidence that slowly began to seep into your body. You looked good, now you’ve gotta feel good too. Your phone pinged pulling your attention away from yourself and onto John’s text.

John: Blue. 10:51am. read.

You almost stumbled with how fast you moved to grab your light blue sundress, pulling it over your hips and slipping your arms into straps. Hands grabbing at the strings at the back and pulling so the waist becomes corset like. You tied a bow and slimmed your hands over the material, admiring the little light yellow sunflowers that sat at the bottom when the dress became flowy ending at your knees.

Another texts pings on your phone.

John: I’m outside when you’re ready sweetheart. 10:55am. read.

“Okay deep breaths.” You told yourself, making sure you had everything before heading outside.

And there he was.

A black t-shirt with a blue checkered button down shirt worn as a jacket graced his muscular torso. Loose fitted dark blue jeans and black hiking boots. He was like your own personal cowboy, all that was missing was the hat.

The sight of him nearly made your knees buckle and he could definitely say the same about you. You were stunning in your sundress that just so happened to be his favourite colour. The way you drifted down the steps of your porch to meet him at your gate, the cute little wobble of your legs as you walked.

“Fuck me darlin, so fuckin’ pretty.” He wanted to apologise for his bad language but what can he say, he was stunned and you certainly bring out the more rambunctious side of him.

You smile wide, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. The air fluttered with anticipation, the way his heated gaze stared down at you. He leaned forward, getting closer, blue eyes flickering to your lips. So close. But then you hear the latch on your gate lift with a creak before he opens the gate for you to step out.

You do so with a pout that has John grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Look at you, pouting all cute just because I didn’t kiss you, he wants to say but all he can choke out is a grumbly, “Look at you”.

“So where are we going?” You nibble on your lip, anxiousness threatening to take over but you will it not to let it affect you or this moment with him.

“I have a little place in mind, c’mon.” He holds out his hand looking at you to take it. But suddenly you’re frozen, time standing still while your tired and frazzled brain takes a minute to process the situation.

John studies you and almost immediately understands that this is a big decision for you. How much must you have suffered to consider taking someone’s hand as a big decision. He waits patiently, no foot tapping, no sighing. Just pure patients while he watches you work out the issue in that brain of yours.

How he’d love to know what you’re thinking, your eyes glazed over with a similar look to what Simon had when he first met him. Before he got comfortable. He doesn’t have to wait long until you’re reaching to grab his hand. He smiles like a little triumph had just occurred before escorting you into his truck.

The drive was short which you were grateful for due to the hot weather. Only a few more weeks and the days would be shorter and the weather colder. You couldn’t wait.

John helped you out of the truck keeping hold of your hand as he walked you towards what looked like a cafe. It was cute and quiet. You spotted a salted caramel frappe on the menu that made your eyes light up, it was the first thing John ordered.

You waited for the food to be cooked and drinks to be made, the nervous jittery feelings you had bubbling in your system this morning was nowhere to be found now. Not when John looked every bit of a man you’d ever dreamed of, not when he picked up the tray after swatting your hand away from it gently, not when he chose to sit next to you instead of opposite just so he could continue to hold your hand under the table.

First dates always end bad, but maybe this one’s an exception.

[crispsandkerosene]

Extended StandardMaterial Shader for the Sims 2

A Shader Edit/Default Replacement "StandardMaterial" is the shader commonly used by sims objects. It tells the game how to render them, and by default offers features such as making them glowy or transparent. However, most of its effects apply to the whole material at once. I figured out how to edit it! So here is my improved version. It now supports: - An "additive" texture map, lighting up specific areas of the material. - An envCube mask, controlling the intensity of this effect via a texture. - Two new envCube modes, and improvements to an undiscovered one. + "Blend" replaces the base texture by the envCube's. + "Multiply" multiplies them together (duh). + "DiffuseRadiance", which already existed in the shader, adds the envCube texture to the light received by the material rather than its already lit texture. All three of them support the envCube mask and the envCubeCoef parameter. The envCube modes are mutually exclusive, but all effects can otherwise be used with each other. The download itself contains the shader package, a pdf ReadMe listing features and material parameters, and examples showcased on my envCubeTesterObject (also included). The readme lists the specific shader files I've edited, in case anyone else made an incompatible mod. (I've not included the recolours from the first preview pic as they're kind of lame lol + I had to make a CEP extra for the robot.) I'm hyped to see what cool objects and recolours people will make with this! And I'm probably forgetting information.

-> Download Everything at SimFileShare --------------------------------------------------------------------------- If you use LazyDuchess' Overly Bright CaS Fix, download this version instead. It combines the two mod, so you should delete LD's original package file. -> Download Everything at SimFileShare -> Download Just the Mod Package at SimFileShare If you use DreadPirate's ShaderFixes with LazyDuchess' Overly Bright CaS Fix, download either of these versions instead. Delete the shaderfix "main" package. These combine the three mods into one. -> Download Everything (both versions included) at SimFileShare -> Download Just the Mod Package (edited lot skirt) at SimFileShare -> Download Just the Mod Package (Maxis lot skirt) at SimFileShare The other versions of DreadPirate's mods (including any of the water, roof and hood shaders) don't modify anything mine does. They should be useable alongside each other no problem. (l'll do more merging with incompatible mods as they're reported to me.)

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hi Gallus, I'm doing some worldbuilding and you seem like you could be connected enough for me to find an answer to the problem of dwarven agriculture. Many problems are created by the requirement of no sunlight, as even the common response of mushrooms still need light to break down decomposing matter as a primary energy source. Currently, we're thinking that they use a special type of mushroom that breaks down rocks in an energy-producing reaction, giving them enough energy to absorb nutrients and grow - this would serve a second purpose in explaining why building a massive hollowed-out mountain fortress doesn't produce an equally large amount of gravel.

Any thoughts? We're grasping at straws kinda lol

Well, some thoughts:

There's plenty of cave systems (especially Karst Systems) that are at least partially open to Sunlight- especially the kind that have rivers running through them, which is something else that's really helpful for agriculture.

For Example: This Cool AF Sinkhole cave in china that has an entire Forest in it

Now There's a view to put outside the city Gates!

Karst specifically is a landscape where underground rivers hollow out the limestone underground and then the cave roofs fall in. This kind of landscape answers your gravel question nicely: the hollowed out mountain does produce an equal amount of gravel, but the gravel turns up as the sandy banks of the river system hundreds of miles away.

So, there's your sunlight that can be used directly, or reflected or magically transferred deeper into the cave system.

Or they just put more holes in the roof! Unless your dwarves are also vampires, there's no reason for them to not hollow out a few Skylights into the mountain too.

But let's talk some other cave ecology and agriculture!

For starters, your dwarves could be sitting on top of a literal gold mine that would allow them to trade for a lot of needed materials and crops.

And by gold mine, I mean Salt Mine.

Historically, salt comes out of hollowed-out mountains and is worth more than gold.

Also something the humans have historically fought a bunch of wars over, so there's some free political tensions if you needed that!

I can also mean the possible fucking enormous piles of bat guano that accumulates in Karst caves, which is the world's most insanely good fertilizer, and ALSO something that has been worth more than it's weight in gold.

Speaking of Gold, another thing that often lives in sinkhole caves in abundance is BEES. turns out, limestone stalactites are a terrific place to build a hive that is difficult for predators to reach, stays dry and the stone substrate means the hives can reach many tons in weight before they start having structural issues. That sweet, sweet insect-derived liquid gold is already important to Dwarves in a lot of folklore- it's really hard to have a Traditional Dwarven Mead Hall without the honey to make the mead, you know?

So you got your mushrooms, you got your sunlight-grown sinkhole crops, you got your traded goods and you got your source of alcohol- the only thing really missing from an ancient food pyramid here is a staple carbohydrate. To that end, may I propose our good Peruvian Friend: The Potato.

Grain crops aren't actually all that nutritious and were kept around in ancient societies more as legal tender that kept the peasants busy, because wheat or rice takes months to grow, an enormous amount of labor to harvest, and wheat also needs to be milled before it can be turned into food- all enormously time-consuming processes that keep peasants busy and easy to rule tyranically over.

Potatoes though? Pop one in the ground in spring and you can dig up fingerlings all summer, and if you make potato towers, you can harvest up to 40lbs of delicious, easy-to-prepare-and-store carb out of a single plant- a real space-saver for the limited sinkhole skyspace.

If your dwarves have cheese, the potato makes even more sense, because Potato+dairy is the easiest, most nutritionally complete survival food there is.

Finally, consider: Dwarven Vodka.

This post is open for anyone to comment suggestions on, but that's my take: put your dwarves in a Karst-sinkhole cave system, give them a highly in demand resource like salt or guano, bees, and taters. Boom. Whole agriculture, economy and political scheme starters.

[citywideroofingtarzana]

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Don't let the summer heat take a toll on your home and energy expenses. Contact Citywide Roofing today to learn more about how Cool Roof technology can benefit your home. Take the first step towards a cooler, more energy-efficient home by scheduling a consultation with our expert team.

Call us now to schedule your consultation and beat the heat with Citywide Roofing's Cool Roof technology!

Citywide Roofing 6117 Reseda Blvd, Tarzana, CA 91335 (818) 405-8656 https://citywide-remodeling.com/los-angeles-ca/ https://citywide-remodeling.business.site/

[citywide-roofing-sacramento]

Beat the Heat with Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento: Upgrade to a Cool Roof Today

As temperatures rise, beat the heat and elevate your comfort with Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento's cutting-edge cool roof solutions. Our cool roofs are designed to reflect more sunlight and absorb less heat than traditional roofs, keeping your home cooler and reducing your energy bills. With our expertise and top-quality materials, we'll transform your roof into a heat-fighting shield that enhances both comfort and energy efficiency.

At Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento, we prioritize innovation and customer satisfaction. Our team of skilled professionals will assess your roofing needs and provide tailored recommendations to ensure the perfect cool roof solution for your home. Say goodbye to sweltering summers and hello to a more comfortable living space with our cool roof installations.

Ready to beat the heat and upgrade to a cool roof? Contact Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento today to schedule your consultation and start enjoying a cooler, more energy-efficient home. Don't let the heat get you down – take action and stay cool with Citywide Roofing! Citywide Roofing and Remodeling Sacramento Sacramento, CA (888) 9335939 https://citywide-remodeling.com/ https://citywide-roofing-and-remodeling-sacramento.business.site

[eightyonekilograms]

New material lets through 95% of visible light (compared to 91% for ordinary glass), but still blocks infrared (so has a strong cooling effect) and is opaque:

It's also superhydrophobic so is essentially self-cleaning.

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 1

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8.3k this part

description: as the daughter of dracule mihawk, you've been living alone at home, unwilling to go out and find a life of your own due to the belief that your father needs you around. but when he sends you off to buy him a jacket, you end up running into a pirate crew—and a particular swordsman—that end up changing how you feel.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, sexual harassment (from nameless OC), slow burn

author’s note: finally she's here! i'm posting it spaced out because i don't want to overload you all with a 23.6k fic in one post... IMPORTANT NOTE: i did some research from the animanga for mihawk's personality, weapons, and home, but this is still very much only a fic for OPLA and not the other iterations of the material.

the fic is not exactly only a romance; it focuses a lot on the reader's personal character development along with her relationship with mihawk too. i hope you guys don't mind! i kind of lost the plot lol.

reader is mihawk's biological daughter, but is stated to take after her mother and doesn't bear similarity to mihawk. so the fic is poc reader friendly!

Your dad was late to dinner again. 

To be fair, Dracule Mihawk didn’t exactly follow a schedule. He was fickle—back when you’d been a girl, he’d been around all the time, because although he was a lot of things, Mihawk was not an absentee parent. But as you’d grown older, he started being less strict, leaving you alone for days and weeks until you’d finally matured into an adult. Mihawk spent most of his time away from the house, now—but you agreed to have dinner together every week, no matter what part of the ocean he was in. 

And he was late. 

You’d started cooking the meal early, only for Mihawk to not show up when everything was ready. Or after everything was ready. Or even when everything had cooled, and you’d eaten your fill, and waited in your chair for him to arrive. He finally showed up a quarter past two in the morning, the doors of the dining room bursting open to announce his entrance. 

You cracked an eye open from where you’d been dozing in your seat. “You’re late.” 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk said, taking his hat off and bowing with a flourish. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I got a little busy. Garp had me deal with a pirate in the East Blue.” 

You made a face at him as he sat down to eat. “Could’ve at least let me know. Den den mushi exist for a reason.” 

“Ah, well, my apologies.” Mihawk sighed, dramatic as ever—you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him for more than a few minutes, though, something he knew well. “It would’ve gone quickly had some upstart not challenged me to a duel. So I had to spend the night.” He tsked, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And then I went to visit an old friend. Red-haired Shanks.”

“I remember him.” You got up from your seat, moving to the kitchen to rifle in the icebox for a popsicle. “Another duel? What’s this week’s body count?” 

“You know I don’t tally such trifling matters, sweetheart,” Mihawk said. You shrugged, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen to watch him start eating. “This pasta is cold.” 

“Wasn’t cold four hours ago,” you said, languidly licking at your popsicle. “No sympathy here, dad.” 

“Fine,” Mihawk said. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the man. Tall, green hair, three swords.” He wrinkled his nose. “Said people called him the Demon.” 

“Roronoa Zoro,” you affirmed, slipping into the chair beside your father. “Scariest pirate hunter in the East Blue. You killed him?” 

“Clearly not much of a pirate hunter, considering he’s a pirate now,” Mihawk said, the scrape of his knife and fork ringing around the room. “Joined the man I Garp sent me after, this little boy in a straw hat. And no. I let him and his crew go.” 

You paused, voice faltering as you registered the words. “You let him live?” 

“Yes. He was rather interesting. I expect he’ll come find me later,” Mihawk answered. You stared at him, still baffled. Your father was a lot of things, but a man of mercy was not one of them. Your earliest memory of him exacting his power over others was when you’d been two, watching from your crib as he speared the nanny for calling you a brat. A touching gesture, for certain, but still. “But enough about work. How have you been, little hawk?” 

“Bored,” you said with a sigh. “It’s so dull on this island.” 

Mihawk looked amused. “You could leave. I’m not restricting you here anymore.” Back in your teen years, Mihawk hadn’t let you leave the house—something about enemies wanting to kill his daughter or whatever else nonsense. He’d trained you personally, though, so you were nearly as fearsome as your father—able to beat anyone in combat in the blink of an eye. “You don’t have to stay.” 

“The house would get all dusty,” you protested, lips tugging into a line. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done any exploring. Mihawk had taken you to all four seas throughout your adolescence, and you’d taken vacations to everywhere of importance. You just—didn’t have much of a point to leave, really. You very much preferred not to, something tying you firmly to the island, to your castle. “And besides, where would I even go?” 

“I hear the East Blue is interesting this time of year,” Mihawk said. “You could venture around here, but…” He shrugged. “The Grand Line is dangerous.” 

You made a face. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I can take care of myself.” 

“Certainly,” Mihawk agreed easily. “But it’s simply not worth it. You really should get out more, dear. It’s not good for your health.” 

“Maybe,” you said, but you weren’t very enthusiastic about it. “Here, I’ll clean Yoru for you while you finish eating.” You moved around the back of his chair, lifting his sword off the jacket he hadn’t bothered to shed from his back. You grimaced upon seeing a line of dried blood along the blade. “Dad.”

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, and you rolled your eyes, carrying the sword over to the living room. You set Yoru down with a heavy thud, pulling out a box of materials. Mihawk came over to watch you, one arm propped against the doorway as his aureate eyes gazed down as you worked.

Compared to your dad, you looked relatively normal. You’d always taken after your mother—a mysterious woman you barely had any memories of—and the relation between the two of you was never immediately obvious. The fact your eyes were plainly normal instead of bearing the golden hawk eyes Mihawk had was another factor added to that, too. 

You pulled out a bottle of oil, pouring it generously over Yoru’s blade before grabbing a cloth to carefully wipe it with. “Where in the East Blue?” you asked abruptly, not looking up. Mihawk’s fork clinked along the ceramic of his bowl, presumably surprised you’d actually consider the offer of leaving. 

“Well, I could send you out to run some errands if you wish. I’ve got some things to attend to,” Mihawk optioned. “There’s this one store in Loguetown with a rather nice jacket I’ve had my eye on.”

You shot him a disbelieving look. “You want me to go to the East Blue to buy you a jacket.” 

Mihawk shrugged. “My birthday’s coming up.” 

“No, it’s not.” You slid your rag along the edge of Yoru’s blade, folding it in half before wiping the entire thing again to ensure there was no grime left. “Finished. Maybe I’ll just stay—” 

Mihawk gave you a look. 

“Fine. Loguetown it is,” you said with a sigh. “Don’t give me a crew. I’ll just take one of the sloops. I’ll get your dumb jacket for you.” You got up, tossing the cloth over a shoulder to hand wash later. “I’ll leave later today.” 

Mihawk clicked his tongue. “You’re so enthusiastic, darling. I can practically see the excitement oozing off of you.” 

You rolled your eyes, moving past him to go up to your room. “Short trip,” you said. “No more than a couple of days.” 

“The little hawk, so incited to leave the nest.”

“Shut up.” 

Mihawk had complied with your wishes, as when you woke up the next morning, he had already prepared a sloop for you to board alone. You packed some of your things, not being too fussy about the clothing or other objects, knowing that the boat was already well-stocked on its own. Mihawk waited to send you off, though you knew he probably had affairs to attend to by now. 

“Be good, darling,” he said, while you were loading up the last of your stuff. Just like your father, you preferred to wear your sword on your back; a present he’d given you at the age of thirteen. “I’ll call you. I’ve got business in the South Blue.” 

“Have fun,” you said, and he kissed the back of your hand before pushing you off. 

Loguetown was just how you’d remembered it, buzzing with civilians and pirates alike. The stores were plentiful, and filled to the brim with customers—it was all a little overwhelming compared to the peace and quiet you were used to. Still, it wasn’t a bad place to stay for a few weeks, and you might as well take your time there. 

You slung your coat on as you exited the docks, glancing around the town in search of something to do first. Since you weren’t especially interested in retrieving a jacket for your father just yet, you beelined to the nearest tavern to grab something to eat. It was a lot easier traveling without Mihawk at your side—as much as you loved him, he had the habit of attracting both trouble and fear wherever he went, and he was near impossible to go out with. 

The tavern was full, but not too crowded, and you managed to slip over to the bar without much trouble. It seemed to mostly consist of pirates—rough men with flowing jackets and holsters of guns and swords at their hip, clustered together in groupings that clearly proved their alliances with each other. You were one of the only patrons who was alone.

You gestured for the barkeep, and she bustled over from where she was serving a particularly ragtag group of pirates. They were mismatched, colors oddly paired—a girl with neon orange hair, a short man with a straw hat, one wearing a flowery shirt and goggles and the last man dressed in clothes far too formal for a bar. “What can I get for you?” she asked, a thick brogue dragging down her words. 

You told her your drink order, still eyeing the group. The barkeep followed your vision and let out a sigh. “Don’t bother. Three men have already tried to capture him for the bounty.  Broke half my furniture. And we got a rule here, anyway—no fightin’.” 

“Does he have a bounty?” you asked with a frown. She scoffed. 

“Does he ever. Thirty million berry, child. Highest in the East Blue.” She shook her head. “That crew won’t let anyone touch ‘im. Hell, I think his first mate’s still outside cleaning up the bodies.” She sighed again. “Well, I’ll have that drink out for you in a moment.” 

You nodded, slipping into the closest available chair. Now that you were paying attention, you could see practically every pair of eyes fixed on the group—specifically, on the man in the center wearing the straw hat. 

Before you could ask another question, the door to the tavern opened, and a lean, green-haired man filled the doorway. You glanced over at the barkeep, a flash of recognition in your eyes. “That’s Roronoa Zoro.” 

“Aye,” she said, setting your drink in front of you. “If there’s someone who might be able to cash in that bounty, it’d be him. But believe it or not, he’s with the Straw Hat.” 

You watched as the pirate hunter made his way to the table the others sat at. The glint of his famed three earrings reflected off the tavern lights, and the sword on his hip swayed as he walked—but there was only one rather than the three you’d heard tales about. “Yeah, my father said something of the sort.” 

The barkeep hummed, turning to attend to a pirate who’d taken a seat at your left. “And who’s your father, lass?” 

“Dracule Mihawk.” 

The pirate beside you raised his head, turning towards you in almost alarm. Beside him, his crew quieted, and the barkeep glanced up to meet your eyes. “Dracule Mihawk?” she repeated incredulously. 

“He sent me to buy him a coat,” you said. “I don’t suppose you know where any shops are around here?” 

“Er, there’s a shop off main you might want to see,” the barkeep said, eyes flickering over to the pirate crew that had changed their focus to you. “Anything else for you, then?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. She nodded, leaving the bar in favor of moving over to another table. The pirate beside you turned slowly, stool scraping against the floor as he sneered down at you.

“Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, eh?” he asked. “Care if I buy you a drink?” Behind him, the rest of his crew tittered. You just sighed.

“Sorry, my father doesn’t let me go out with anyone who hasn’t bested me in combat.” You knocked back the rest of your drink, glancing up and down the pirate’s figure. He didn’t look like much—two pistols strapped to the hip, a longsword on the other, a raggedy leather jacket with a hat to match. 

The pirate scoffed. “Please,” he said, though you could see his skin turning rapidly crimson. “I doubt you’re even related to him. No hawk eyes or nothing.” 

You met his gaze, lips tightening into a line. “I take after my mother.” 

“Biggest lie I ever heard, aye, crew?” The pirate turned back towards the rest of his men, and they cheered in agreement. You huffed out a sigh, trying your very best not to turn combative—despite everything, you were proud of your relationship with your father, and anyone trying to call you a liar for your lineage just left you vexed and angry. Before you could step away, though, the pirate turned towards the rest of the tavern, apparently having had a bit too much liquor. He raised his voice, practically yelling now. “Oi! This girl thinks she’s the daughter of Dracule Mihawk!” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Roronoa Zoro look up, the rest of his crew glancing over at you at the words. You were distracted within a second, the pirate shoving your arm. “Hey, don’t look away, girl. I’m trying to—” 

You grabbed onto his wrist, nails razor-sharp as they embedded into his skin. “Don’t touch me.” 

“Oh, you think you’re tough, do you?” The pirate yanked his hand out of your grip. “Did your daddy teach you how to fight, huh? Think you can beat me?” 

“I know I can beat you,” you answered. The pirate reached for his sword, then, fingers tightening around the hilt. 

“Alright, let’s make it a bet then. You beat me, I believe your claim about being Mihawk’s daughter.” His lips curled back into an ugly sneer, and you debated stepping out of the conversation and just going off to find that shop for your dad’s coat anyway. Fights like these were never worth getting into, and you really didn’t want to break any more of the barkeep’s furniture after she’d let out her annoyances to you. 

Before you could, though, the pirate opened his big mouth once again. 

“I beat you, and you go to bed with me.”

You were whipping your sword out before you could even think, red flashing in your vision as you scraped your blade out from the holster on your back. The metal gleamed under the lights, white steel bright as day as you leveled it in your hand. It wasn’t the largest weapon, a perfectly balanced cut-and-thrust spadroon with a golden hilt wrapped in white ribbon. You tightened your grip on the handle. 

“I beat you,” you hissed, voice low, “and you’re dead.” 

He lunged for you, pulling his sword out in one solid stroke and meeting yours in a loud clang. You shot an apologetic look towards the barkeep, spinning on your back leg and kicking the pirate away. The force caused him to stumble, sword skittering to the side as you shoved it off your blade. 

One of his crew members had cocked a gun to your head, and you spun your swords toward him, blade cutting through the metal like it was butter. The rest of the crew stepped back, one or two of them lunging for you. You parried all of their attacks, shoving them to the ground until they stopped trying to fight. 

The captain had gotten up, a fierce snarl upon his face as you slammed your blade down towards him. He blocked it with his sword, and then went for various attacks towards your figure—you dodged each one of them, parrying them easily as you moved backwards. At the last one, you used your weight to buck the sword back in his direction, and he stumbled again. 

You ducked down, sweeping him off his feet with a well-aimed kick to his shins, and he fell, sword clattering out of reach as he dropped flat on his back. You towered over him, pointing the edge of your blade at his throat. 

“You want me to go outside to kill him?” you asked. The barkeep sighed. 

“If you don’t mind, lass.” 

“Not at all.” You bent over, grabbing firmly onto the pirate’s shirt and yanking him upwards. His crew made a move towards you, but you just shoved your sword in their direction, and they stepped away. You spun your sword’s hilt around in your hand with a flourish, then started dragging the captain out the tavern door. 

“No—wait—let me go,” the pirate begged, once you dropped him to the gravel outside and moved your sword to his throat again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it—you’re a pretty girl, that’s all—” 

“I don’t date men who can’t beat me in combat,” you said coolly. “Lower your expectations.” With that, you spun your sword again, sliding it back on the holster of your jacket. “I’ll let you live just this once. If you ever make any comments towards a woman again—” 

“I get it. I’m sorry,” the man said, scrambling to his feet. You just eyed him. 

“I need another drink.” 

The tavern was dead silent when you returned to your seat, gingerly sitting back down on the stool you’d first occupied. “Another drink, if you don’t mind,” you said to the barkeep, and she nodded. A moment passed as she filled your mug, and then she asked—

“Is Dracule Mihawk really your father?” 

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, taking the drink she offered and taking a swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Straw Hat pirate and his crew muttering amongst themselves. One of them nudged Roronoa Zoro in the side, and he grimaced, the loose shirt he wore parting with the motion. You caught a glimpse of bandages, wound tight with blood seeping through a familiar line. Yoru’s doing. 

Zoro stood up, making his way over to the bar beside you. He propped his elbows on the table, but he didn’t sit, nodding at the barkeep. “Another round for my friends,” he said. His voice was quieter than you’d expected; a low mutter and almost soft in timbre. He glanced over at you, eyes flickering down and up again before he spoke. “I tried to kill your father.” 

“Yeah, he told me,” you said. “Roronoa Zoro. What happened to your other two swords?” 

Zoro scoffed. “Your dad.” 

“He can be a little dramatic sometimes,” you said apologetically. He glanced over you again.

“You don’t look much like him.” He paused. “Figured I’d know if Mihawk had a daughter.” 

“I take after my mother, and he’s very overprotective,” you said, getting just the slightest bit annoyed about everyone questioning your parentage. The barkeep returned then, sliding five beers across the table over to Zoro, and you stood up. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have some shopping to do.” 

You exited the tavern after paying your tab, wandering around the streets of Loguetown to find the closest clothing store. Your father’s style was ridiculously grand, so it’d be something in the nicer branch of the city—you had just entered your best guess when you pulled out a shell phone, pushing the little snail into your ear and calling your father’s number. 

He picked up on the first ring. “What is it, darling?” 

“Did you have a specific coat in mind?” You glanced through a row of black leather, trying to find one that’d match Mihawk’s liking. “I’m at this place called Lady Tide’s Dressing Boutique. It’s the bougiest place I could find.” 

“Lady Tide’s would be correct,” Mihawk said. “I trust your taste. Pick something I’d like.” 

“You better be paying me back for this,” you threatened, turning the corner as you spoke. You jumped back in surprise, letting out a squeak as the Straw Hat pirate from before appeared right in front of you, a grin stretching up his face. 

Mihawk’s laugh crackled through the line at your surprise. “Get startled, dear?” 

“The pirate Garp sent you after is stalking me,” you deadpanned. The Straw Hat pirate’s grin only widened. “I’ll call you back.” 

You hung up, taking the den den mushi out of your ear and back into its case. “What?” 

“You’re a really good fighter,” the Straw Hat said brightly. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. You should think about joining my crew!” 

“I—” you stared at him in disbelief, mind reeling from the whiplash of his words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not a pirate.”

Luffy tilted his head to the side in question. “But your dad is Mihawk.”

“That doesn’t make me a pirate. I just stay at home for the most part,” you said. Luffy continued following you around the store, however, even as you stepped past him to browse more jackets. You glimpsed the rest of his crew hanging around the store, though none seemed to do any actual shopping. You figured Lady Tide’s was probably out of their price range. “Why are you still following me?” 

“I think you should join my crew,” Luffy repeated. “Have you ever been to the Grand Line? That’s where we’re headed next.”

You gave him a look. “I live in the Grand Line.” 

“Whoa,” Luffy breathed. “Well, you must know all about it, then!” 

You turned away from him, picking a jacket off the rack in front of you and appraising it. Golden buttons, long tailcoat, wide lapels—not really Mihawk’s taste. You set it back. “Not really,” you finally answered. “Like I said, I stay at home for the most part. Haven’t done much exploring.” 

“Don’t you want to?” Luffy asked, taking a step closer to you. You flinched. “Your dad’s one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea! You should be going out and adventuring, not just staying at home and doing whatever Mihawk tells you to!” 

“Don’t,” you snapped, voice low. “I stay home because I want to. Not because my dad forces me to.” Your words bore no lie, but still, there was a rumble of uncertainty deep in your gut. Mihawk had always been supportive, but pirating had always been his thing. You preferred the solace of your own home, and there was no point in adventuring when Mihawk had seen it all before. 

“I’m just saying, what do you even do all day?” Luffy asked with a quirk of the lip. “Stay home and clean? Go out once in a while to buy groceries or get stuff for your dad?” He gestured at the coat you were holding, and you flushed, shoving it back onto the rack. “Isn’t it boring? Don’t you want more than such an average life?” 

“I’m perfectly happy with my life right now, thank you,” you snapped. “Go preach to someone else.” 

Luffy had stopped walking, then, looking at you with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Living isn’t the same as thriving, you know,” he said. “You should go out. Find adventure. Aren’t there things you want to know? Questions you want answered?” 

“Luffy.” You turned to see Roronoa Zoro move to his captain’s side, head dipping as he spoke to him. His tone was quiet, but you could still overhear— “Leave her alone. We’ve got business.” 

Luffy looked dejected at that, but he agreed, bowing his head towards you before turning to the rest of his crew. They’d gathered by the mouth of the store, engaged in their own various activities as they waited. You watched Luffy turn to leave, words climbing up your throat even as you tried to swallow them down. “Wait!” 

Luffy turned, that bright smile reappearing on his face. “What?” 

“I want to know one thing,” you said, taking a step closer to the captain and his first mate. You glanced up at Zoro, who met your gaze. His face seemed carved of steel, skin bearing no grimace, eyes betraying nothing. “Why did my father let you live?” 

Zoro looked away, and you realized he probably didn’t know the answer himself. Before you could speak again, though, Luffy interrupted. 

“Because Zoro’s the best,” he declared, capturing your attention away from the injured swordsman. He slapped Zoro’s bicep with a heavy thud, and you were surprised when the other man didn’t even flinch. “And he’s gonna be better than Mihawk one day. He’s going to defeat him in a duel and take his title and become—” 

“The world’s greatest swordsman,” Zoro finished. The words were muttered under his breath, clearly to himself rather than intending for you to hear. 

You watched them for a moment before finally turning away. “Okay,” you said. “Good luck with that.” 

Luffy stared at you for a moment longer, but Zoro was already turning away and walking towards the rest of the crew. There was an unsettling feeling in your gut, one you tried to squash. Whatever—you had better things to do than worry about some Straw Hat pirate and a retired pirate hunter. 

You returned to your browsing, looking through various jacket designs until you finally fell across one you were certain your father liked. It was ridiculously expensive, but your father’s taste had always been so—you purchased it without a second thought, slinging it across a shoulder and returning to your sloop for the rest of the day. 

To your great disappointment, the Straw Hat pirate’s words continued to echo throughout your head. His demeanor was off-putting, to say the least—the extreme amounts of candor and cheeriness he had made for a disorienting combination. Even as you tried to stop thinking about his terrifyingly honest words, you couldn’t. Don’t you want more than such an average life?

You sighed, mood irritable from the day's events. You’d returned to your sloop and hadn’t done much of anything for a few hours—past having a meal and cleaning up your boat, there was nothing to do. You mulled over your options, wondering if you shouldn’t just start the journey back home. But Luffy’s words came back to you. 

“I need a drink,” you muttered, donning your coat and leaving to attend the first bar you could find. 

You went someplace ritzy this time, near the peak of Loguetown where neon lights glimmered in the dark hour. It was crowded, and music blasted through the bar, pounding bass nearly making the floor reverberate. You slipped inside without much trouble, squeezing through the crowd and making way for the bar at the other end of the room. 

You bought yourself a drink, knocking it back in just a few gulps. There were marines patrolling around in the building, although none of them seemed too keen on completing any of their duties. Pirates walked around freely too, but these ones were more dignified than the ones you’d seen in the tavern at town. 

“You hear Straw Hat Luffy’s here at Loguetown right now?” someone muttered to your right. You glanced over with a furtive gaze to see who was speaking—two men, dressed in fine silks and coats. Swords dangled from their hips. Pirates, maybe, or pirate hunters. “His ship’s docked over by south port.” 

“You’re not going to try and nab him, are you?” the other pirate hunter asked, fingers pinched around a thin glass of something. “That bounty’s hefty, but fighting them’ll be…” 

“I’m getting a bunch of hunters together,” the first one said. “We’ll split the bounty. At midnight, once the whole crew’s asleep. I followed the navigator; seems they’re not leaving until the morning.” 

“Thirty million split between many isn’t much.” 

“Well.” The hunter made a vague gesture, a smirk playing at his lips. “I doubt we’ll all be alive by the end of the night, if you know what I mean.” 

“Right.” The second hunter downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll be there. Where’s the rendezvous point?” 

“Slip forty at south port. Come at midnight,” the first one replied. “My boat. Theirs is at fifty-two.” 

You turned away, knocking back the last of your drink before setting the glass back down on the counter. Your mind reeled, and you pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Nearly eleven. Only an hour left. 

“Another drink,” you called, but you stopped after that one. Logically, you knew the Straw Hat crew would be able to handle themselves. Your father wouldn’t have let Zoro go had he not been an impressive fighter—and Luffy certainly had to have some tricks up his sleeve, having such a high bounty and all. But an ambush was an ambush. 

You needed to go home. 

You paid your bill and slunk outside, taking the long road down to the port. You were docked in the east, but you found yourself wandering towards south port, hands shoved in your pockets and sword heavy on your back. 

There was no logical reason to get involved with pirates, you tried to tell yourself. That was Dracule Mihawk’s area of expertise. That was Dracule Mihawk’s life. Not his daughter’s. You were not a pirate—there was no point in being one. Mihawk has done everything already. 

You stepped onto the pier of south port, the wooden ramp trembling under your feet. They were shoddily constructed; oak on water, with pegs every few feet or so and ropes thrown casually across the walkways. It was overcrowded with boats, too—ships of every kind and size, smushed into spots not big enough for them depending on how much you paid the dock men. The moon shimmered on the surface of the East Blue. She was calm today, waves lapping at the edges of the docks, tranquil in the night. 

You checked your watch again. Nearly midnight. 

Dock forty moored a relatively small ship, but it was crowded with men—ten or fifteen, maybe, and you knew they’d be killing each other when the fight was through. Thirty million berry divided between so many people was barely worth it. You slunk past them, counting the numbers of the boat berths. 

You knew the boat before you looked at the slip number based on appearance alone. It was large in size, a caravel sporting a gigantic goat figurehead. You stared at it, brows furrowed, jaw slack. Well, it was certainly a ship. There was a large sail boasting the ship’s jolly roger—a crudely designed skull and crossbones sporting the same straw hat their captain wore. 

With a sigh, you pulled yourself onboard, careful to not make a sound as you landed on the deck. It was quiet, but you doubted the crew didn’t have at least one lookout for trouble. You tiptoed around the mast, moving towards the foredeck.

You were just about to step a foot on the staircase when a gleaming katana came to your throat. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Roronoa Zoro was as calm as ever as he held a blade to your jugular, posture perfectly straight, eyes tilted in your direction. You glanced down at the blade, registering the smooth metal. It was the white-handled one; upon seeing it closer, you could better register its quality. It must’ve been insanely durable, more so than his other blades considering Yoru hadn’t shattered this one in battle—one of the strongest blades in the world. 

“What’s the sword’s name?” you asked. 

Zoro ignored your question. “What are you doing here?” he repeated. 

You sighed, turning towards him, although you were careful not to touch the sword. Zoro’s grip didn’t budge. “There are pirate hunters coming here,” you answered. “At midnight. An ambush.” 

Zoro still didn’t move. The night sky cast his entire face in shadow, the only light on board being a trembling lantern by the interior doors. You could just barely see the gleam of one eye, yellow light shining on his cheekbone. “Why would you come?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you answered coolly. “My father let you go for a reason. It’d be a shame if you died before you realized why.” It was an easy lie—because the real reason was one you didn’t want to think about. Because Luffy’s words struck something in you. Because they rang true. 

“We don’t need your protection.” 

You shrugged, only one shoulder moving upwards before relaxing again. “Just a friendly warning.” 

Carefully, Zoro lowered his blade, the steel scraping along the edge of its scabbard opening before he slid it closed. “The Wado Ichimonji.” 

Your eyes were still on the sheathed katana. “Hm?” 

“The sword. Its name is Wado Ichimonji.” 

You tilted your head back, angling it towards the sword strapped to your jacket. “Hiru,” you said. “That’s mine.” 

“Day,” Zoro translated. “You have matching swords with your father?” 

“Just matching names,” you answered. “It’s a spadroon, not a kreigsmesser. Much smaller than Yoru. Birthday present. When I was thirteen.” 

Zoro eyed you. “I’ll wake the rest of the crew,” he said. “You can go.” 

You made no move to, consulting your watch as Zoro rang the ship’s bell. Five minutes to midnight. You could already hear the near-noiseless patter of footsteps on the pier. 

The orange-haired woman was the first out, fingers wrapped around a short wooden rod. She exchanged a look with Zoro, and he nodded towards the pier. She somehow knew exactly what he meant from that, dodging back inside the ship and returning, dragging a dark-haired man out. 

“Uh, what’s going on?” the man asked, stifling a yawn as he fiddled with a slingshot. Both Zoro and the woman shushed him. “Jeez, okay.” He noticed you then. “Oh, hey, you’re the hawk dude’s kid—”

“Shut up, Usopp,” the woman snapped. She’d moved by the boat’s side, ducked under the rim. The footsteps were getting louder. 

The blond man came out next, hands shoved casually in his pockets and dressed in clothes you genuinely did not think functioned as sleepwear. “Hunters,” the orange-haired woman said. “Ambush.” 

“Isn’t that lovely,” the blond man murmured. He caught your eye, and a smile lit up his face. “Well, hello there.” 

Both Zoro and the woman rolled their eyes. Before the blond could say anything more, though, the hunters’ footsteps abruptly stopped. 

The orange-haired woman spun up from her crouch, wooden stick extending into a long staff as she whipped it out. She slammed one end of the staff into an incoming hunter’s gut as he leapt aboard the ship, forcing him off the side of the vessel.

Everything happened all at once, then—you heard the slick shing! of Zoro unsheathing his katana, and the blond was up and running towards another gaggle of hunters within the second, legs flying in an assortment of well-placed kicks. 

You reached over your shoulder, tugging Hiru out of its straps. The blade shone bright under the moonlight, and you caught an incoming hunter’s sword with the lick of it, shoving him backwards as you spun.

“Why’s Mihawk’s girl here?” the blond called, as he slid across the deck, leg raising up into a spinning hook. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He met your eyes and winked, leaving you staring in utter disbelief until another hunter distracted you. “I’m Sanji!” 

“Okay?” you asked blankly, letting out a huff of exertion as you whipped your sword toward the hunter. He’d pulled out one of his guns, wielding his blade one-handed as he fumbled with the trigger. You breathed in, recalling your father’s words from the thousands of hours spent training. Take advantage of any imbalances, sweetheart. Focus on the center of gravity. 

You aimed a sliding kick at the man’s gun, using Hiru to push against his blade. The pressure caused him to fling halfway across the ship, body thudding against the mast before falling to the ground in a heap. 

“Impressive,” Sanji whistled from his spot across the ship. 

“Shut up,” Zoro and the orange-haired woman said in unison. Zoro was beside the fallen hunter in a second, katana slashing cleanly through his torso before he spun and shoved the blade straight into an incoming man’s stomach. Sanji just scoffed. 

“Show-off,” he said accusatively. Zoro rolled his eyes, turning towards Sanji to argue, when you glimpsed someone at his back. You lunged for the man, sword cutting cleanly through his jugular before he fell across the deck, decollated. 

Zoro turned, glancing over his shoulder at the body and then up at you. “You’re welcome,” you said, flicking Hiru to the side. Spatters of blood dripped off its blade. 

“...Right.” The number of hunters had considerably thinned, only three or four left. The orange-haired woman was still fighting two of them, placing hits of her bo staff along two mens’ skulls. Usopp had crouched by the forecastle, firing pellets off with his slingshot. Sanji dusted off the final two men, until only the ringleader was left. 

“Wait, wait.” The hunter backed away until he ran into the ship’s railing. He scrambled for his pistol, but as Zoro, Sanji, and the orange-haired woman advanced on him, apparently realized the idea was in vain. “We—we can talk about this.” 

“I don’t think we can.” You turned at the new voice, watching as Luffy slipped out from the captain’s chambers. His hand came up to adjust his hat, crowned atop his head as always. “You came aboard my ship and tried to hurt my friends.” 

The hunter’s jaw fell slack, mouth drying over as Luffy came to stand in front of him. The rest of the crew had parted to allow him space, and Luffy titled his head up, the lick of light from the lantern shining against his skin. A crescent-shaped scar under his eye glowed bright, the skin paler than the rest of his face.

“Gum gum…” he started, voice steadily rising in volume as he extended his hand backwards, fingers curled into a fist. To your surprise, his arm just kept stretching back, limb getting longer and longer with a distinctly rubbery stretch until it was all the way at the other side of the ship. “Pistol!” 

His arm snapped back all in one, knocking the hunter straight in the jaw and shoving him off the ship in one, devastating blow. You stared at his flailing body, watching as he dropped straight into the ocean ten or so meters away with a loud plop. 

You turned towards Luffy, one brow arched in question. “You’re a Devil Fruit eater?”

“The Gum Gum fruit,” Luffy said brightly. He adjusted his hat once more, fixing it atop his head before reaching an arm out to pat you on the shoulder. “Thank you for warning us. You’re a good person.” 

“Don’t mention it.” You glanced down at Hiru. “Have anything I can clean my blade with?” 

“Sure! Let Sanji cook you something while you’re here,” Luffy said. “It’s the least we can do.” 

“Of course,” Sanji said with a little bow. “What would you like? Name anything and I’ll make it.” 

You eyed him. “…Anything.” 

Sanji let out an exaggerated sigh. “So uninspired. Meet you in the kitchen, then. We can leave the mosshead to clean up the bodies.” 

The orange-haired woman just rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to bed,” she declared. She glanced over at you, appraising you in one solid sweep up and down your body. “I’m Nami.” 

With that final word, she departed, snapping closed her staff and slipping back into the boat. Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji shuffled into the boat, presumably the kitchen. Zoro just sighed, setting his katana to the side to start cleaning up the corpses left after the battle. 

You made no move to follow the others inside, watching as Zoro easily lifted up one of the hunters. The lines of his biceps strained as he climbed off the ship, still hefting the body before finally placing it down on the pier. 

“Just toss them into the ocean,” you called. Zoro glanced over his shoulder, registering you standing there. He picked another body up. 

“I don’t want to block our slip,” he answered. 

“Fair enough. Any oil around here?” You wandered to the ship’s side, glancing through the boxes fixed to the deck. Zoro gestured in some direction that harmed more than it helped, really, but you dug through some boxes before unearthing something you could clean Hiru with. 

You worked in silence, slicking the blade with the oil and rubbing off all the blood and mess that had gotten onto it. Zoro was quick, piling up all the corpses and barely-alive bodies by the dock. He shoved a few of them awake with his boot. “Go find a doctor,” you heard him mutter under his breath. You suppressed a laugh. 

Eventually, Zoro climbed back on board, searching for his sword only to find it in your hands. You carefully polished off the last of the blade, then presented it to him. “You’re welcome.” 

“…Thanks,” Zoro said, sheathing it in one smooth swipe.

“The cut,” you said, glancing down at his torso again. His shirt was covering the bandages, but you knew they were still there. “It was Yoru that did it. Not Kogatana.” 

“The big one, yeah,” Zoro answered. You watched him thoughtfully, although you didn’t say a word. He seemed to get impatient by that, and was speaking just a moment afterwards— “Why?” 

You gave a quick shake of your head. “Nothing,” you answered, the lie slipping easily off your tongue. But your mind churned with thoughts, the mere brain activity making your stomach curdle. It hadn’t clicked before, but now—your father didn’t use Yoru on anyone who wasn’t worthy. And letting Zoro live—letting the entire crew go, against Garp’s orders? 

This was a more interesting group than you’d anticipated. 

Zoro eyed you for a moment as you were lost in thought, though he didn’t say anything to interrupt you. Once you finally looked up, he adjusted, clearing his throat. “Should go inside to make sure the waiter isn’t burning down the kitchen,” he said, straightening.  

You stood up, sliding Hiru into its scabbard on your back. “The… waiter?” 

Zoro shook his head. “Long story.” He gestured with his head, nodding towards the double doors. “Kitchen.” 

You followed him, the soft aroma of garlic and meat wafting around the room the instant you stepped foot inside. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen island, propped on chairs and staring as Sanji prepared a meal before them. You joined the group, glancing over Usopp’s shoulder to watch. 

There was a stir-fry on the stove, garlic and onions joined by various other vegetables. Sanji drizzled soy sauce along the pan, scraping it around once with his spatula before turning down the heat. He added in some rice—leftover, it looked—along with some battered eggs, mixing it all together. 

“Vegetable and chicken fried rice,” Sanji said, turning off the heat once everything had cooked through and starting to distribute it into servings. “I went for something universal because I don’t know what you like.” He met your eyes, flashing a giant, warm smile again. You took the bowl he offered, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic. 

“Thank you,” you said. The four of you stood in silence, and you had the feeling that you were intruding. The crew was a tight unit, that much was certain—wound tightly around each other, ropes intersecting in delicate knots and bows. You turned your attention to your meal. You hadn’t had a real supper, so the food was a welcome surprise, and it was damn near close to the best thing you’d ever tasted. 

“So,” Luffy started, “Not to bug you about it a hundred times, but…” You glanced up. His expression was earnest as he met your eyes, lips tugged upwards in an encouraging smile even as he spoke. “Are you joining us?”

“Am I—? Oh,” you said, realizing what it was Luffy was referring to. “Is the offer still standing?” 

“Always,” he answered brightly. “You’d be a good fit for our crew, you know.” 

Would you really? There wasn’t much of anything special about you besides your parentage. You were as skilled a swordswoman as any, but there were hundreds better and stronger than you. There was no one thing you truly excelled at. “I’ll think about it,” you said hesitantly. 

“Well, think quick. We leave at dawn,” Luffy said. “Meet us back here at blue hour if you’d like to join up.” He smiled again, all unassuming, and it was hard to believe a boy so pleasant had a thirty million berry bounty hanging suspended over his head. He yawned, stretching out his long limbs. “Well, I’m off to sleep. Sanji’s next watch.” He glanced over at Zoro. “Why don’t you walk her back to her slip, Zoro?” 

 Your brows furrowed, about to object, but Zoro was already standing up. He opted to say nothing, leaving you to set down your empty bowl and say your goodbyes in a hurry to follow him out. 

The bodies on the pier had thinned, the alive ones presumably having dragged themselves to town to find a doctor. Zoro stepped over the heap of corpses, and you followed suit, walking in silence down south port. “I’m a little far,” you said. “You might lose your way heading back.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Zoro dismissed. “I’m… sorry about Luffy. He can get overly enthusiastic.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “Are the rest of the crew open to me joining, though? It didn’t seem like he consulted any of you.” 

Zoro’s brows lifted at that, though you weren’t certain why. “We’re all fine with it,” he said eventually. “Luffy wouldn’t invite someone who wouldn’t fit.” He hesitated, the plod of your footsteps creaking against the dock walkway for a few paces before he parted his lips again. “I’m going to fight Mihawk again, you know.” 

“I figured,” you answered. You could feel Zoro’s eyes on you, scraping along your skin like they were blades themselves. 

“You’re not upset by that?” 

“Everyone wants to kill him for some reason or another,” you said. “You’re not the first.” Though there was something undeniably special about him. The fact he was still alive, for one. “I figure you’re a long way from that, so I’ll have a father for a few years more until you try to kill him again.” 

There was something in the way you phrased your words that sounded so very ironic, and Zoro couldn’t suppress the light grunt from escaping his lips. It was dry, brittle—but closer to a laugh than a scoff, you could tell. “Is that your blessing?” 

“Sure,” you said. “I, Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, hereby allow you, Roronoa Zoro, to murder my father in a duel.” The lightness in your tone dropped. “If you don’t mind me asking…” you took in a light breath, letting the taste of the words melt on your tongue before slipping them out. “Why do you want to, anyway? Defeat him, I mean?” 

“I made a promise to someone a long time ago,” Zoro answered. His footsteps slowed as you reached your slip, the small sloop you’d sailed all the way to Loguetown calm as ever where it was moored. The black sails—vague, nondescript—sucked away all the light the moon attempted to cast on it, so it was even darker than the rest of the surroundings. “I told her I would become the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“That’s heavy,” you remarked, turning to face your companion. His skin was waxy and dull under the moonlight—aftereffects of the injury he still hadn’t fully recovered from. Zoro just shrugged. 

“Maybe. It’s my life’s dream.” 

“He’s a good father,” you said. “I think he’d like you.” You paused. “Well, he does. He wouldn’t have let you live if he didn’t.” 

Zoro stiffened, the lines of his body tightening, spine pulling up just slightly. You noticed the change—you always did. Observation had always been one of your biggest strengths. Maybe you hadn’t gotten the golden irises your father had, but you had hawk eyes of your own in that way. Never missing a thing, picking out all flaws and details in a scene. “I’m not sure if I want him to like me.” 

“He doesn’t feel hatred for a lot of people,” you said. “Just disdain. Though I’m fairly certain he’d have skewered that drunk at the bar earlier if he’d been with me.” 

“The one who—” Zoro looked distinctly uncomfortable as he remembered what the pirate had offered you. He made a vague gesture instead, just mildly vulgar in motion. You suppressed a laugh. 

“Exactly,” you agreed. “He doesn’t have patience for that sort of thing. He also feels no man who’s weaker than me in combat isn’t man enough to be with me, though I have questions about that particular rule.” 

Zoro snorted. “You could definitely do better than the drunk pirate.” 

“Right.” You glanced up at the moon, watching the steady silver glow of her face along the edge of the horizon. She was full, round and white, soft powder creasing the dents and shadows of her face. “I’m out for the night, then. Thank you for walking me.” 

Zoro shrugged. He didn’t say anything, so you turned away, stepping onto your sloop without another word. You ducked into the interior room, closing the door firmly behind you so you could finally relax. 

You had only a handful of hours of rest ahead of you, after all.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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[laxreehotel]

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[solbaby7]

Hi! Could I have a piña colada with a salt rim? And make it neat please 🫶

[“are you crazy we’re in public” “then you’d best be quiet” + smut + azriel ]

Shame on you for being foolish enough to feed a starving animal.

For looking past his threatening exterior, greeting him with kindness and coaxing him closer instead of shooing him away like you were supposed to do with rabid animals. Not offering him the warmth of a home and a bleeding heart with endless love to give. How ignorant of you to assume that offering up warm meals or sweet desserts and soft sheets with fluffy would ever be enough.

Not when the only prize to Azriel—was you.

That greed shows when you’re led along the sidewalk, nudged down an alleyway and pressed up against a brick wall swathed in inky shadows. “Az,” You address him breathlessly, heart instinctively hammering just a little harder in your chest as you register the intimidating loom of his stature. “Baby, what are you doing?”

He nearly laughs, letting free a low rumble of a chuckle that has his wings rustling gently at your sides. “What’s it feel like I’m doing?”

You feel as if you’re melting like ice on a sweltering summer day under his borderline obsessive attention. His touch is possessive against your jaw, tilting your neck to make more room for the claiming kisses that trail down, down, down. It’s impossible not to give into it—to lean into the pressure of his mouth on your skin, his teeth nipping at sensitive flesh and his hands.

Gods, his hands.

All searching and filled with a ravenous need as they graze over the thin fabrics of your dress, tracing over familiar curves until desire overrides rational thought and that soft material is all but disintegrated in his grasp. It takes a second too long to notice that the cool breeze is cutting against bare breasts and by time you do realize, Azriel’s already pinching at perky nipples, sucking marks into supple fat and robbing you of a clear conscious as pleasure zaps up your spine. “Are you crazy?” You weakly scold, arching into his touch when wandering fingers graze scandalously lower. Low enough to slip past the protective barrier of flimsy undergarments. “We are in public—someone could see.”

The very mention of it makes his mouth curl into a wolffish grin; makes him cruel as he runs a thumb through your slit, collecting slick and spreading you open with two deft fingers. “Then you’d best be quiet then, hm?”

“A-Azriel.” You attempt to close your legs but obedient shadows keep you how he wants you; all presenting and pliant before him. “Wait—fuck!” The helpless yelp is silenced by the pressure of his thumb on your clit, rubbing devastating circles that leave your thighs shaking and stomach contracting as you clench around nothing. Rough brick digs into soft skin, catching on silky hair when he’s forced to lean forward to plant a kiss that dampens your desperate whines down to breathy whimpers.

It’s a little messy, teetering the edge of frantic with his teeth nipping at your lips. Tongue tracing over the roof of your mouth while skilled hands fall in sync with the desperate roll of your hips as you chase your high. His cock throbs at the trust you put in him—completely exposed and yet you don’t even acknowledge it when chatting ladies and tipsy gentlemen stumble just a little too close by. If anything, he swears it makes you grind down just a bit harder. Manicured nails rake over the broad line of his shoulders, one leg hooking over his waist for better stability. “More,” You keen, cheeks burning with a blush at the lust in your syllables—the downright indecent sound of your arousal fucking singing against his fingers.

It’s wrong. Improper. Unladylike. Undoubtedly more than a little grimy and yet you’ve never been more turned on. It practically leeks out of you, dripping down the same scarred fingers that keep switching between rubbing and teasingly tapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves between supple thighs. “How quickly your tune changes when I’m touching your pussy,” Azriel muses, tone going dark and misty while his ego inflates fifty times too large from the way he leaves your chest heaving and eyes rolling in the back of your head without even need to pull his cock free from his breeches. “Thought you were worried about someone hearing?”

“I was—I am!” You really really try to hold out, to listen to the very reasonable fears you’d had about being caught but when he makes you feel so good it’s difficult to find the room to give a fuck if some random stranger saw the High Lords shadowsinger guiding you to your orgasm. “Fuck! ‘m gonna—mmph.” A hand smacks over your mouth, teeth biting into the flesh of your palm.

“There you go, sweet thing.” Pleasure simmers on a pot in your gut, its contents boiling and bubbling; fighting the constraints of its confinements until everything spills over. “Feels much better when you just let go, doesn’t it?”

Shame on you for being foolish enough to feed a starving animal—now all it knows how to do is take.

“Don’t fuss,” Azriel commands, the hard length of him finally freed from its confines and throbbing with the desire to carve a space inside you, branding your walls with his name. “Just want one more.”