noicevibes

[noicevibes]

I… I’m at your door… l-lemme in 🐱

SHOUJO STYLE ART COMMISSIONS!

(OPEN — 3/3)

hello! i am (finally) opening art comms!! this is my first round so i will only be taking a limited number of slots + prices may change after this batch! if you can’t commission me then sharing / reblogging this post is always greatly appreciated , thank you for your support!! 💕

please contact me via discord (nyajiros) so we can discuss the commission process and i can send updates! 🌸

LINEART (NO COLOUR)

headshot: $15

bust up: $20

half body: $25

MANGA SCREENTONE (B&W)

headshot: $20

bust: $25

half body: $30

FULL COLOUR + RENDERED

headshot: $40

bust: $45

half body: $55

TOS / ADD ONS

WILL DRAW: canon, oc, selfship/yumeship/oc x canon, sfw, animanga + hoyoverse

WILL NOT DRAW: nsfw, mecha, furries (kemonomimi is okay!), canon x canon

all prices are in USD and are base prices !

all prices above are for one character, additional character is 80% of the base price !

i request 50% payment after the sketch is finalized and 50% after the commission is completed! refunds are not accepted after the sketch is finalized!

payment is via kofi, kofi will be sent in discord dms !

i have the right to refuse a commission for any reason.

wait time is between 2-3 weeks after i start working on it, if there is a delay i will let you know in advance!

if requesting both manga screentone + coloured render, it will be $10 extra (includes both!)

fee for a background, character or commission complexity may apply, we can discuss that together! same applies to poses, references, extra details etc !

default aspect ratio of the commission is 2048 x 1423, landscape / portrait mode! other aspect ratios can be discussed !!

commissioned artwork is for personal use only!

mutuals can join a wait list for my commissions, please dm me on discord to be added !!

thank you for reading , i hope to deliver my best work for you ^_^ 💗

ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF MY WORK!

more examples of my art can be asked for in dms! 💕

[noicevibes]

18+, minors dni. just some quick diluc smut... yanno. :3

“Stay with me.”

He knew it was a long shot. Well, you both did, really. Not a single day could pass that Diluc Ragnvindr wasn’t forcibly holed up in his office to handle the estate’s most private affairs, or had to help in cellars, or return into the bustling city of Mondstadt, or — and of course, you knew about this; anyone with a brain could put two and two together when a tall man with long red hair that carries a Pyro Vision and wields a flaming claymore — taking down Mondstadt’s enemies in the dark cover of night. His work was twenty-four hours a day, eight days a week.

Asking you over to the Dawn Winery to keep him company while he attempted to finish that work was almost too hopeful— four hours, half a novel, and a short nap later that you’re only just stirring from now, you find that he’d gotten through only a third of the stack of paperwork that threatens to teeter off his desk with the slightest disruption to its perfect balance.

“… Diluc,” you call softly, to not startle him. He’d been staring down hard at the handful of papers pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “You should take a break.”

He sighs, his exasperation targeted at the messy spread laid out before him; this, he makes obvious when he sends you a fond, tired smile from across the room. You return it, and rise to seat yourself at the edge of his lounge chair.

“So stubborn.” You extend a hand in his direction. “Come sit with me. I’ll be your pillow.”

“I fear if I do, I won’t end up getting up again,” he says, but he stands anyway, and rounds the desk. “You are a very reliable pillow.”

“Since you won’t let me help you tackle those new contracts, this is the least I can do for the cause.”

“The cause?” he muses, allowing his hands to be scooped up into yours as he stands between your legs.

“Freeing my lover from the evil clutches of productivity.”

Diluc hums. “Perhaps if you sat a little closer to me while I worked, I’d be more motivated to work harder.”

Harder than you already are? your thoughts nearly have you frowning. To hide your concern, you press your lips into his scarred knuckles.

“I think I might provide the opposite effect of what you’re expecting,” you murmur into them. Diluc frees a hand from yours and rests it atop your head. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you when you look just so very handsome sitting at your desk, working so diligently…”

Diluc huffs, and suddenly averts his gaze from on you to the wall-encompassing bookcases.

“… you don’t even have to be in front of me to have an affect on me.” You swallow, cheeks warming.

“Then I should return so you can focus properly,” you reason. His head snaps down toward to you.

“Now that might have the opposite effect.” You raise an eyebrow, lifted higher when Diluc’s hands rise to cup your cheeks. “Stay with me,” he whispers. Gently, he knocks your knees together with his own, and steps forward to kneel over you. “Stay with me.”

He lowers his head, touching his lips to the corner of yours. You squirm, suddenly restless beneath him, and raise your chin to meet his kiss properly. What is once soft and tender morphs quickly into something fervent and intoxicating, the tongue prodding the dark reaches within your mouth leaving you breathlessly dizzied and clinging to the lapels of his jacket to steady yourself.

Your gasp of air when you part is sharp, buzzing; Diluc smiles, and presses his wet mouth against the curve where your neck and shoulder meets.

"Stay with me," he repeats, a heaved whisper weaved within his own panting. Your hands skim up past his biceps, pulling him closer to you with your fingers laced together behind his head, and his own lower to caress and soothe your trembling limbs, your fluttering stomach, your keening pelvis, to slide your long skirt and bloomers down past your knees.

"Stay... with me." Knees kissing the ground, he dives further into you, tongue languidly lapping at the bundle of nerves between your folds, a reflection of his exhaustion; somehow, his dedication to make you come in his mouth surpasses any desire to slow down or to rest, nor to dare to leave you unsatisfied, and the thighs easily trapped beneath his carved musculature as you whine and writhe your pleasure away.

Breaths heavy and gazes lidded, you look to each other. Fingers intertwine between your chests, and his other hand cradles your cheek as he shares your bounty with your lips.

“Stay,” he murmurs against them, but you’re already nodding, “with me.”

© noicevibes 2025

please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[noicevibes]

hi there! i just wanted to pop in and say that i love love LOVED your latest diluc work. i saw it groggily in the early morning, but i just came back to it for the fourth time today. something about how he tells the mc to stay with him while his affections get more intense each time?

it doesn’t stop getting overwhelming. i felt so giddy rereading it, but also. a haze overcomes me whenever i do without fail. feel free to delete, i just wanted to tell you that i’m. feral. because of it. sorry for any inconvenience, and please have a wonderful day/night!

HI?!? this is so sweet of you, FOUR TIMES??? 😭

I really love the thought of Diluc being the soft but firm lover, as in he’s so tender with his partner but his affections are never “half-hearted” or weak; they’re intense and passionate like he is.

Hehe, I’ll definitely write more of him like this… you made me really happy. Truly. 🥹

[noicevibes]

18+, minors dni. just some quick diluc smut... yanno. :3

“Stay with me.”

He knew it was a long shot. Well, you both did, really. Not a single day could pass that Diluc Ragnvindr wasn’t forcibly holed up in his office to handle the estate’s most private affairs, or had to help in cellars, or return into the bustling city of Mondstadt, or — and of course, you knew about this; anyone with a brain could put two and two together when a tall man with long red hair that carries a Pyro Vision and wields a flaming claymore — taking down Mondstadt’s enemies in the dark cover of night. His work was twenty-four hours a day, eight days a week.

Asking you over to the Dawn Winery to keep him company while he attempted to finish that work was almost too hopeful— four hours, half a novel, and a short nap later that you’re only just stirring from now, you find that he’d gotten through only a third of the stack of paperwork that threatens to teeter off his desk with the slightest disruption to its perfect balance.

“… Diluc,” you call softly, to not startle him. He’d been staring down hard at the handful of papers pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “You should take a break.”

He sighs, his exasperation targeted at the messy spread laid out before him; this, he makes obvious when he sends you a fond, tired smile from across the room. You return it, and rise to seat yourself at the edge of his lounge chair.

“So stubborn.” You extend a hand in his direction. “Come sit with me. I’ll be your pillow.”

“I fear if I do, I won’t end up getting up again,” he says, but he stands anyway, and rounds the desk. “You are a very reliable pillow.”

“Since you won’t let me help you tackle those new contracts, this is the least I can do for the cause.”

“The cause?” he muses, allowing his hands to be scooped up into yours as he stands between your legs.

“Freeing my lover from the evil clutches of productivity.”

Diluc hums. “Perhaps if you sat a little closer to me while I worked, I’d be more motivated to work harder.”

Harder than you already are? your thoughts nearly have you frowning. To hide your concern, you press your lips into his scarred knuckles.

“I think I might provide the opposite effect of what you’re expecting,” you murmur into them. Diluc frees a hand from yours and rests it atop your head. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you when you look just so very handsome sitting at your desk, working so diligently…”

Diluc huffs, and suddenly averts his gaze from on you to the wall-encompassing bookcases.

“… you don’t even have to be in front of me to have an affect on me.” You swallow, cheeks warming.

“Then I should return so you can focus properly,” you reason. His head snaps down toward to you.

“Now that might have the opposite effect.” You raise an eyebrow, lifted higher when Diluc’s hands rise to cup your cheeks. “Stay with me,” he whispers. Gently, he knocks your knees together with his own, and steps forward to kneel over you. “Stay with me.”

He lowers his head, touching his lips to the corner of yours. You squirm, suddenly restless beneath him, and raise your chin to meet his kiss properly. What is once soft and tender morphs quickly into something fervent and intoxicating, the tongue prodding the dark reaches within your mouth leaving you breathlessly dizzied and clinging to the lapels of his jacket to steady yourself.

Your gasp of air when you part is sharp, buzzing; Diluc smiles, and presses his wet mouth against the curve where your neck and shoulder meets.

"Stay with me," he repeats, a heaved whisper weaved within his own panting. Your hands skim up past his biceps, pulling him closer to you with your fingers laced together behind his head, and his own lower to caress and soothe your trembling limbs, your fluttering stomach, your keening pelvis, to slide your long skirt and bloomers down past your knees.

"Stay... with me." Knees kissing the ground, he dives further into you, tongue languidly lapping at the bundle of nerves between your folds, a reflection of his exhaustion; somehow, his dedication to make you come in his mouth surpasses any desire to slow down or to rest, nor to dare to leave you unsatisfied, and the thighs easily trapped beneath his carved musculature as you whine and writhe your pleasure away.

Breaths heavy and gazes lidded, you look to each other. Fingers intertwine between your chests, and his other hand cradles your cheek as he shares your bounty with your lips.

“Stay,” he murmurs against them, but you’re already nodding, “with me.”

© noicevibes 2025

please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[noicevibes]

♡ ⸝⸝ HOW HE FUCKS YOU AFTER WINNING A MATCH

cw. fratboy isagi, smut mdni, rough sex, praise

when isagi wins a football game, you’re always in for a real treat. he just fucks you so, so good, like he hasn’t before.

and don’t get me wrong, isagi is always good in bed. he’s always so attentive and sharp when it comes to you, making sure to coax out those pretty moans and whimpers of yours, whispering all the things you want to hear whilst going at the pace he’s learnt that you love.

and there’s never been a time where he hasn’t made you cum. he knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows exactly what gets you off and what gets that building pleasure going until he sees your back arch and your toes curl, the moans from your mouth getting whinier when you call out his name.

but isagi is safe. for the most part it’s exactly what you want. you don’t really want constant sex that’s leaving you insanely sore or with bruised skin, having people question why you’re walking funny. isagi makes love most of the time. most.

after winning a match it’s like all that goes out of the window, the adrenaline and pure euphoria of being crowned as a winner just brings out another side of isagi, especially when he has his stunning girlfriend clapping and cheering for him on the bleachers.

you think it’s definitely got something to do with his ego or this alpha male mentality most college boys have. but when he has you face down ass up, pounding into your poor, abused pussy and bottoming out completely inside you as his tip kisses your cervix with your gummy walls fluttering around his shaft, those thoughts you once had become completely irrelevant, his name a moaning mess on your lips.

and that’s what makes isagi worse. hearing you moan out his name like a beautiful prayer just sends him over the edge, fucking you even harder and even faster whilst chasing both your highs before edging them, and repeating.

the pleasure is so overwhelming mixed with your body’s constant need to release that knotting pleasure building again and again in your stomach, isagi’s rough pounding thrusts driving you over the edge.

so you’ll beg him to let you cum, tears streaming down your face as you look back at him and for a moment he almost feels bad.

“i’ll let you cum soon, baby. just hold out for me, yeah? you can do that, can’t you?”, he’ll ask as you give him a weak nod, “that’s my girl, y’so good for me.”

and in the moment that’s all you can do; be good for him and do as he says until he gives you permission to cum, which is one of the best of your life.

with the constant denial, the build up to your orgasm is so intense that when it finally hits, it’s way too much. your eyes spill with tears of pleasure and your thighs shake beneath you, causing you to collapse as you feel pure euphoria shoot through your veins.

and the way you moan out isagi’s name sends him over the edge, his own orgasm following behind and just as intense as yours, still sloppily fucking your overstimulated pussy and ultimately releasing his load into you.

he always did that after sex like this. you’re not really sure why, but you didn’t complain much.

after all, isagi was still your sweet, caring boyfriend. so, he’ll always clean you up and give you the most precious aftercare. especially after fucking you like that.

safe to say you’ll be having a lazy morning in bed tomorrow.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[noicevibes]

2025.04.01 isagi yoichi day!!

[noicevibes]

I should perhaps rephrase the second paragraph better.

Not to say that it’s wrong to want to non-share so you can enjoy the idea of exclusivity with your f/o, but if you are making it exclusive in the sense that you’re not including others or downing them for liking the same character, or creating a community where others feel they can’t do the same/you’re making them shy up and not enjoy the idea of them in a silly little relationship with their f/o, like that’s just mean. There’s no other word for it; this is you, being a bully.

someone made a good point today about yume/self-ships and like, I think the fun of it is loving a character so much with a community of people, sharing art and comms and gushing about that character.

additionally, if you’re a non-sharing yumejoshi/self-shipper, fine (I guess, that’s still weird of you tbh), but don’t cause bullshit for other people that they decide to deactivate. that’s sick and slimy to do that when this is supposed to be a safe place for people to love characters.

EVEN WORSE is that you’re adults doing it. c’mon.

[noicevibes]

someone made a good point today about yume/self-ships and like, I think the fun of it is loving a character so much with a community of people, sharing art and comms and gushing about that character.

additionally, if you’re a non-sharing yumejoshi/self-shipper, fine (I guess, that’s still weird of you tbh), but don’t cause bullshit for other people that they decide to deactivate. that’s sick and slimy to do that when this is supposed to be a safe place for people to love characters.

EVEN WORSE is that you’re adults doing it. c’mon.

[noicevibes]

maybe I should come back, i forgot how hot and tasty the tea was around here…

[noicevibes]

tabito karasu x cotton

"look, i know i ain't the best at this, but i'm sorry i was an asshole to ya." "that's all i wanted to hear."

our aesthetic: "my crow" x "my hummingbird", childhood enemies to lovers, reconciliation, slowly getting along again, easily making me flustered, supporting him during games, almost always wearing his jersey, able to carry me with no issue, light hearted teasing, strong hugs

our songs: quin, 6lack - mushroom chocolate, the fray - you found me, marion raven - thank you for loving me

how we met: we met in elementary school at the age of eight when our teacher paired us up for a project. i thought we would get along but, that wasn't the case. because i was such a sensitive crybaby, he would tease and make fun of me. even after the project was finished he would never stop, until i had enough and lunged at him (with our classmates chanting "fight! fight! fight! fight!" and our teacher trying to break it up). after that day, we've hated each other since. even when our moms befriended each other, it was once in a blue moon we would get along without incident.

after we graduated middle school, i moved away and was thankful that i didn't have to see him again... until blue lock happened. i get drafted as manager and finally come across karasu again during the third selection. i am obviously not so pleased at first, but after trying to avoid him in the beginning and later talking things out, we finally make up.

first date: we go to an arcade that our moms took us to when we were kids. we had a ton of fun and he even won me a stuffed animal. it made me realize that there is more to karasu than just the side i knew for years.

the aftermath: we slowly begin to reconcile again, and we begin loving each other officially for the first time since we've known each other. it's a process, but it's completely worth it once i see past his behavior.

timeskip: karasu becomes a pro soccer player and i become a vet tech assistant. we get married and move into a house after years of living in an apartment together. now we're completely in love and refuse to separate.

fankids: a pair of fraternal twins, a girl named tatsuru and a boy named kaien (born july 27). they can be a little crazy on some occasions, but they're good kids and we try to give them the world.

tatsuru karasu (烏 多鶴):

- older twin, has type 4 hair like me but 4a. also has the same birthmark karasu has.

- the quiet, more docile twin. usually shakes her head at her brother and friends' antics.

- knows about soccer and played for a bit but chose to become a graphic designer.

kaien karasu (烏 海燕):

- younger twin by five minutes. looks almost exactly like his dad except with long wavy hair.

- the feistier, more outspoken twin. definitely got in trouble a few times.

- follows in karasu's footsteps and becomes a pro soccer player, was even in the japan u-20 team.

selfship art by: cat on twt, more coming very soon!

"this that grade school love but we grown. i think i only need your number in my phone."

"but losing her; the only one who's ever known who i am, who i'm not, and who i wanna be. no way to know how long she will be next to me."

"so take my hand, thank you for loving me."

[noicevibes]

OK we've seen a lotta romantic stuff BUT... what about something more casual? Got any fwb/fuckbuddies hcs for any of Luffy/Law/Kid/Zoro?

Friends With Benefits Headcanons with Luffy, Zoro, Law and Kid

Synopsis: just like the title says! Pairing: Luffy x reader, Zoro x reader, Law x reader, Kid x reader (separately) CW: NSFW MINORS DNI, vague mention of feelings in laws, besides that just fwb stuffs

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It started with Luffy being as blunt as ever, dropping his casual indifference about sex into a conversation that left you floored. “It’s not that different, right? Just feels like using your hand,” he said with a shrug as if the entire concept was nothing more than a passing thought. You couldn’t stop the sigh that left your lips. “Oh, you have no idea,” you murmured, already scheming. 

The first encounter happened late at night in the empty kitchen when you finally decided to prove your point. His curiosity got the better of him as you knelt between his legs, tugging down his shorts slowly. “Just let me show you,” you murmured, your voice full of promise. The moment your fingers wrapped around his cock, his entire body tensed, a sharp intake of breath the only sound before his lips parted in an unrestrained groan. “Shit,” he hissed, his hips jerking involuntarily as you began to stroke him.

And when your mouth replaced your hand, the realization hit him like a freight train. The wet heat of your tongue gliding along his shaft, the way your lips sealed around him, sucking with the right amount of pressure- it had his head tipped back, his eyes squeezing shut, and a growl ripping from his throat. “What the hell– oh fuck, that’s–” Words failed him, his hands flying to your hair, gripping tight as he lost himself in the sensation. The sheer desperation in his moans was intoxicating, loud and shameless as if he didn’t care if he woke up the entire crew. 

By the time you let him fuck you for the first time, Luffy was insatiable. He’d been begging for it for days, his cock hard and throbbing in his shorts every time he so much as looked at you. “Come on, please,” he panted, his hands already slipping under your shirt, grabbing greedily at your skin. “I wanna know what it feels like. I need to.” His voice was raw and desperate, as if his entire world hinged on you giving in

The moment he pushed inside you, an almost feral sound tore from his throat. “So warm, so wet, so…” he groaned, his hips snapping forward instinctively as he buried himself to the hilt. He didn’t even try to take it slow; he couldn’t if he wanted to. The way your hole clenched around him, wet and hot and perfect, drove him absolutely wild. His pace was frantic and erratic, every thrust hitting deep as his moans grew louder, filthier, until you had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep the entire ship from hearing. He didn’t care, though. If anything, it spurred him on, his teeth grazing your palm as he muffled a growled, “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

After that, Luffy was a man obsessed. He wanted to fuck you every chance we got– in the kitchen, in the crows' nest, on the head of the Sunny, wherever he could get you alone for more than five seconds. Subtlety wasn’t his strong suit, and he didn’t even bother trying to hide it. His neck was littered with your bite marks, his chest and back decorated with scratches that he proudly showed off, oblivious to the crew's exasperated stares. 

With every encounter, his insatiable curiosity drove him to try anything and everything. “Can we do it upside down?” he once asked, completely serious, his head tilted as he waited for an answer. He wanted to explore every inch of you, every reaction he could wring out of you, and he was shameless about it. The moment he found something that made you moan even just a little louder, shudder harder, he’d latch onto it, repeating until you were trembling, begging for more.

It didn’t take long for this fuck buddy relationship to leave him with an insatiable appetite. He grew bold enough to grab you whenever and wherever the urge struck. Leaning over the railing, half-asleep in a hammock, hell, he once tried in the kitchen while Sanji’s back was turned. 

It didn’t matter if the crew gave him shit for the marks littering his skin or the way he’d disappear with you for hours at a time. Luffy wasn’t one to hide what he wanted, and what he wanted was sex with you, and you wouldn’t trade this for anything else. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The crow’s nest was where it all began. You were silently watching Zoro work out until just watching wasn’t enough. “C’mon, how hard could it be?” you quipped, laughing at the way his muscles trained as he hefted one of his absurdly heavy weights. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” he challenged, dragging you into his workout routine with a predatory glint in his eye. 

You took the challenge, standing beside him as you began mimicking his movements, your body quickly heating up under the strain. What you didn’t notice was how Zoro’s gaze raked over the sheen of sweat on your skin, the way your chest rose and fell, and the soft, involuntary noises you made when you pushed yourself a little too hard. 

He didn’t even realize he was staring until you caught him, your breathless laugh snapping him out of whatever daze he’d fallen into. “What? Didn’t think I had it in me?” you asked, voice light and playful. Zoro didn’t answer. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands grabbing your waist as his mouth crashed into yours with a force that stole your breath. 

It was raw, messy, and absolutely unplanned. He had you bent over one of the training benches, your hands braced against it as he pounded into you from behind, his low grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small space. 

Afterward, Zoro was uncharacteristically quiet. He avoided your gaze as you got dressed, his confidence replaced with a rare hint of awkwardness. You both figured that was the end of it, a one-time lapse in judgment. 

But then it happened again. And again. 

The second time, he didn’t even try to play coy. The moment you walked into the crow's nest, he had you against the wall, his mouth on yours, and his hands already slipping beneath your shirt. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he would admit gruffly, lips brushing against your ear before dragging you to the floor. 

It became your thing– a dirty, addictive routine that neither of you bothered to question. Zoro would have you on your knees, your mouth working over him as he cursed and growled, his finger tangling into your hair as he fucked into your throat. Or he’d have you bent over various equipment, his pace merciless, leaving you shaking and spent while he smirked down at you like the smug bastard he is. 

By the time you’d found yourself tangled in Zoro’s limbs for the fifth or sixth time– not that you were counting– you’d all but accepted that no one else would compare. He was a man of focus and discipline in every aspect of life, and that extended to the way he fucked. There was no half-measure, no hesitation. Every thrust, every touch, every kiss was designed to leave you breathless, shaking, and so completely ruined that the mere idea of someone else trying felt laughable. 

Zoro was a fast learner. What started off as clumsy, heated desperation quickly evolved into him paying attention to everything. When your body tensed, the sounds you made, the way you trembled under his touch. He made sure to take mental note of that for the next time you were with him. 

The man had stamina for days, and his endurance translated perfectly into this. It was never just a one-and-done for him- both of you came undone over and over again until you were overstimulated, tears pricking your eyes as you gasped for breath. “Come on,” he’d taunt as his fingers delved between your legs, spreading you open for him again. “You can take it. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Cleanup was an afterthought at best. Zoro never stuck around to cuddle or chat, he wasn't the biggest fan of pillow talk. He’d pull his pants back on, toss a towel at you, and call it a day as he resumed his previous activities. 

It wasn’t romantic, but it was addictively good. The way he fills you, the way he growls your name, the way he pushes you to your limits and beyond until your body nearly gives out. Zoro wasn’t the type to hold back, and you weren’t about to complain, not when he left you a shaking, satisfied mess every single time.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It started off innocently enough– or at least that's the lie you tell yourself every time you feel Law's hands on your body, coaxing sounds from you that would make the devil blush. It had been late at night, the two of you in his quarters with the moonlight streaming in through the window. He was hunched over his desk looking over case studies, his jaw tight with sections, dark circles just a bit more prominent than usual.

You murmured a simple, “You should take a break,” as you watched him rub an exhausted hand over his face. Of course, he snorted in response, lips pulled into a thin, humorless line as he muttered something about not needing a break.

You don’t quite remember how it escalated, but one moment you were standing there, and the next, his fingers were curling around your wrist, pulling you to him. His lips crashed against yours with an intense hunger, teeth scraping your bottom lip as his hands roamed, tugging at your clothes. Fabrics hit the floor in a frenzied blur, and before you could process the shift, the air was filled with your moans and the sinful sound of skin against skin.

Law treats the whole thing like an arrangement, nothing more than a mutual understanding- a transactional escape from the grind of life as a pirate. There’s no romance, no sweet nothings whispered in the dark. Just the bruising press of his body against yours, the deep growl of his voice commanding you to spread your legs wider or hold still while he takes what he needs.

His kisses are demanding– teeth biting at your lips, tongue delving into your mouth, and leaving you gasping for air. His inked fingertips from whatever part of you they can reach– your thighs, your neck, the curve of your waist– digging into you and leaving their mark behind.

Law pays attention to every gasp, every shiver, every time your voice cracks when you beg him for more. He files it all away, exploiting your weaknesses until you’re writing beneath him, your nails clawing streaks of red down his back as you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, desperate not to let anyone hear the depravity unfolding behind doors.

The infirmary quickly became your playground. It was practical, as no one thought twice about seeing you leave together– a crew member seeking the doctor out for medical attention, they’d assume. But the truth was far filthier. 

Late nights became your undoing, the two of you barely remembering to lock the door before he had you pinned to the nearest surface. The cold metal of an examination table was a constant companion, pressing into your bare skin as he shoved your panties down your legs and into his pocket. He’d spread you open slowly, inked fingers teasing over slick folds before his mouth descended, devouring you like a man starved, as if your pleasure was the only thing that could satisfy him in that moment.

“Stay quiet,” he’d growl against your ear, the head of his cock dragging against your entrance before slamming into you, stealing whatever defiance you might’ve had. His voice was a hypnotic blend of filth and control, whispering all the things he was going to do to you, each word leaving your head spinning and your body arching against him as he fucks you toward your first orgasm of the night. 

You’d always leave the infirmary looking wrecked– hair tousled, lips swollen, legs wobbly as you tried, and failed, to regain some semblance of composure. Law, of course, looked immaculate; no one could even tell that he was balls deep inside of you just moments prior, though that smugness in his expression is always there to remind you just how thoroughly he’d ruined you.

And if you looked closely, you’d start to notice the subtle cracks in the walls he’d built around himself. Moments where this simple exchange of pleasure felt like something more. Like the time his breath hitched, and his voice came low and rough as he murmured, “You’re too good at this.” His forehead pressed against yours, honeyed eyes boring into yours in a way that made your stomach flip, as he continued with, “Too good at making me forget everything else.” 

You could pretend it didn’t matter, that it was just an offhand comment in the heat of the moment. But other signs were there if you dared to look. The way his hands lingered, mapping your body like he wanted to memorize every inch of you. The way his fingers didn’t just grip but caressed, a softness in his touch that hadn’t been there before. The way he held you close afterward, his chest rising and falling against yours as if he was reluctant to let go.

You could tell yourself not to overthink it. You could pretend the shift in him didn’t make your chest ache with confusion. But how could you ignore the way he slowed down, how he rolled his hips into you in a way that wasn’t just about chasing release, but about making you feel every damn inch of him? His forehead pressed into yours, his lips brushing over your jaw, and there it was– your name, murmured like a prayer on the edge of a moan.

His kisses grew less frantic, less possessive- more lingering, savoring, as if he were trying to communicate something he couldn’t quite put into words. His voice softened when he guided you through the pleasure, no longer barking commands at you, but soothing encouragements, spoken with a tenderness that left you reeling. He wasn’t just fucking you anymore. He was making love to you in every way but name, the shift so slow and gradual that it felt like you’d accidentally stumbled into it. 

You could ignore the way he was treating you, the way his actions betrayed the very ideal of casual detachment. You could let yourself believe this was just temporary, destined to burn out the way all things do.

And you had a choice to make. You could stay on this path, let him end it when the time came, and pick up the pieces of yourself when it was over. Or you could give in– to him, to this- and let it all become something far messier, far scarier, but infinitely more real. You could let the walls come crashing down and see where it led, knowing full well there might be no going back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One too many drinks at a rowdy tavern in some seedy little port town started this relationship. It was the kind of place that smelled of spilled ale and bad decisions. You and Kid were seated side by side, tipsy from cheap booze and a long week that had worn down the two of you. Half-hearted threats and teasing insults transitioned into touches that lingered way too long. 

When his large hand landed on your thigh under the table, squeezing firmly with no shame, no subtly, you leaned into it, your fingers trailing up his arm as you met his challenge with one of your own. “You talk a big game,” you murmured, your voice low and taunting. “Think you can back it up?”

And then came the bathroom. Not the most romantic spot for a first time, the broken blinking lights and the smell of piss certainly added to the ambiance, but neither of you gave a damn. He locked the door with a click, spun you around, and had your face pressed against the cold wall in an instant. 

Clothes barely came off; his hands were too impatient for that. He yanked your pants down just enough to get where he needed, his fingers rough and greedy as they spread you open. The stretch when he finally shoved inside was brutal, the angle unforgiving, and he groaned like a man who’d just found his favorite kind of trouble as he shoved you harder against the wall with every thrust.

By the time he was done, your legs felt like jelly, and the mirrors were fogged up from the heat of it all. Kid looked at you like he wanted to go another round right there, a cocky grin plastered on his face as he zipped up his pants. “You clean up nice,” he said with a smirk, slapping your ass as he turned to leave. 

That set the tone for every time after. No strings attached, no romance, just raw, shameless fucking whenever the need hit. It was about the release, about indulging in the kind of pleasure that left bruises and scratch marks behind.

One of his favorite things was seeing you struggle to keep quiet when he was fucking you in the dead of the night, in a place where anyone could walk in. The way your body would tense, trying to hold in your noises, but failing miserably as his cock hit that one spot inside of you that had you wailing out. He’d of course, laugh at you, a taunting sound that made your stomach flip. “Do you want everyone to hear us?” as for him, he didn’t particularly care if the whole damn world heard.

The best part was that there was no pressure. You could still flirt, still enjoy the random hookups with others on the ship or wherever you went. There was freedom in it. But more often than not, you found yourself seeking him out. He was convenient. He knew exactly what to do to make you feel good, how to touch you without overdoing it. And honestly, his body was just the right fit for yours every damn time. 

You swear that filthy mouth of his could single-handedly unravel you. He’d growl obvious comments like “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” as he dragged his thick fingers through your slick before shoving them into you saying some shit like, “You like being use like this, dont you? You’re made for this.” 

The crew knew; of course, they did. It was impossible not to, with how loud you sometimes would get or the way you left his quarters a stumbling mess with marks blooming across your skin. If anyone dared to stare too long or judge, he would bark at them to mind their own business.

This arrangement works because neither of you tried to make it more than just sex. There was never any pressure, no awkward conversations after he had just busted inside of you, just a shared understanding that you would be there to scratch each other's itch without hesitation. You could, of course, try to make it into something more if you so desired, but you don’t ever have to if you don’t want to, which is such a beautiful thing in all honesty. What you have with him is chaotic, messy, and thrilling, and that was more than enough for both of you. 

[noicevibes]

I think part of the reason I’m so obsessed with MXTX’s works is the way that each story seems to hold you gently as say “Your kindness mattered. It didn’t alleviate the suffering, it did not undo the pain. But your kindness mattered.”

Kindness could not erase Luo Binghe’s abuse, but it changed the story into a kinder one.

Kindness did not stop Wei Wuxian’s death, but it did save a-Yuan.

Kindness did not undo Xie Lian’s suffering, but it renewed his sincerity to help others.

Kindness did not change the entire world, but it helped create a softer future.

Its such a nice message, that maybe kindness will not protect you, maybe you don’t see the outcome of it, but you should still try to be kind, and I love that honestly.

[noicevibes]

I squish <3

[noicevibes]

now why would you go and wish this on me 😔

It’s my cruel, cruel agenda………

[noicevibes]

No matter how much you dislike your own writing, I promise you it’s better than AI

[noicevibes]

would put this on my writing blog but im avoiding it tonight because i wanted to organize it today and did not. but... craving a new ss art to settle the itches... so lets narrow it down... if you'd be so kind...

out of this list of selfships

[noicevibes]

the distinctly cool metal of his rings kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, subtly wrapping his hand around it. sylus is so close to you — suffocatingly so. but even with his cock driving into you at the euphoric pace he sets, plunging deeper than anyone has ever reached before, you crave more.

his fingers gently squeeze along your throat, a hesitant hold to gauge your reaction but once you’ve had a taste, there was no going back. he lets out a guttural groan that vibrates against your skin as your pretty eyes roll to the back of your head in a silent submission, letting him have his way with you just as he intended.

the ghost of his lips brushes along your ear, fingers tightening ever so slightly before he speaks — his voice low and raspy, full of so much need as he sings you praises that you can’t help but clench around him just a little tighter.