#noirscript: 💌

[noirscript]

I love your writings so much they’re so good I’m not sure if you take requests for what to write but if you do please could you maybe do a yandere river god x reader?? Thank you so much ❤️

whispers in the water

Pairing: Aserion (River God) x Reader Description: You should’ve listened to the elders when they’ve warned you about the river. They said it protects, but it also takes. Now, you’re no longer sure which it’s doing to you. Warning/s: Yandere | Obsession | Stalking | Implied Noncon | Disturbing Dreams | Gaslighting | Possessive Behavior | Supernatural Manipulation | Psychological Horror Note: Thank you for sending this request~! I enjoyed writing it after work~! ^^ BTW! I've extended the pre-order period until end of this month. More details on the post below this one. Enjoy reading!

Masterlist | Dark Roast | Sovereign's Reign Pre-Order | Commission | Tip Jar

You came to this place looking for peace.

A tiny, half-forgotten village pressed against the edge of an old river. No fast trains, no crowds, no constant stream of voices. Just you, your barely-furnished hut on the hill, and the sound of water flowing behind the trees. The kind of place where people whispered instead of shouted. Where cell service vanished as soon as you passed the cracked wooden sign at the outskirts.

It was supposed to be a new start. A way to clear your mind. You told yourself you were just tired of the city. You needed quiet.

But even in the beginning, you could feel it. Something watching from beyond the waterline.

The river isn’t wide—maybe ten feet at most across—but deep. Black-green and thick, like glass hiding something. There’s no fish that you can see. No ripples, unless you count the ones that form whenever you get too close. The air near it is cooler. The birds don’t sing near the bank.

The first time you dipped your fingers in, it felt too cold for summer. The second time, it wasn’t cold at all—it felt like a hand, cool and smooth, curling up to meet yours.

You told yourself you imagined it.

You started visiting every day. What began as short walks became hours on the bank. You sat, then lay. You stopped bringing your phone. Then, you started bathing.

The water welcomed you.

Each time you slipped in, you felt lighter. Your thoughts slowed. The ache in your chest—the one you didn’t even know was there—eased. You stayed until dusk turned the river silver. You came back as soon as the sun rose. The locals noticed.

They always do.

Oscar approached you first. He was young, maybe your age. Kind eyes, hands like he worked with wood. You saw him once or twice before—helping his father, walking the edge of the village trail. He didn’t speak until that evening, when he found you standing waist-deep in the river, staring at your own reflection like it wasn’t quite your face anymore.

“You shouldn’t be here so long,” he said, not unkindly. “Especially not after dark.”

You blinked at him. “Why?”

His jaw worked. He looked back toward the trees, as if afraid someone would hear. “It doesn’t like outsiders.”

It. Not they. Not the people.

You frowned. “The river?”

Oscar looked at you for a long time. “It takes care of its own. But when it chooses someone—” He hesitated. “It’s not just water. It’s been... centuries. But people here remember. Fog that clings to doors. Dreams you can’t wake up from.”

You laughed, too sharply. “Are you trying to scare me?”

“No,” he said. “I’m trying to warn you.”

That night, the fog crept beneath your window for the first time.

It curled around the edges like fingers. Mute. Clammy. When you breathed in, it smelled like stone and moss, but sweet underneath—like something rotting, but still alive. You tried to shut your window, but it didn’t budge. So you wrapped yourself in a blanket and told yourself it would burn off by morning.

It didn’t.

It thickened. Night after night. You stopped hearing crickets. The birds stopped coming to your feeder. And the dreams began.

They started softly. You were walking in the river again—only it wasn’t the river. The water was warmer. Your body didn’t resist the current. There were hands at your waist, pressing lightly, reverently, not letting go. A voice whispered words you couldn’t understand—but your bones knew them.

The second dream, you weren’t walking anymore.

You were lying on a smooth stone in the middle of the current. Your skin bare. Wet. And something was brushing hair from your face. A face leaned over you.

That was the first time you saw him.

Aserion.

He didn’t need to say it. You knew his name. The way you knew gravity would pull you down. His face was carved, not soft—sharper than it should’ve been. Like something sketched in another age. Cheekbones like flint. Jaw like the edge of a blade. His eyes… they were the color of the river just before rain. Not black. Not blue. Depthless. And they watched you like he’d always known you.

His hair floated around him, pale and heavy as drowned silk. Water clung to his skin but never dripped. And when he touched you—your throat, your lips, your hips—his fingers were neither cold nor warm. They simply were.

In the dream, you didn’t resist. You couldn’t.

“I have waited long,” he said. His voice sounded like it came from inside your chest. “You came back to me.”

You told yourself it was just a dream.

But the next morning, your thighs were sore.

• • — ✦ — • •

Oscar came again the following week.

He looked pale. His eyes sunken. “Did you see him?” he asked without preamble.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

“My grandparents told me about the last girl,” he said. “She was a traveler too. Came to the river every day. Just like you.”

“What happened to her?”

Oscar looked at your hands, as if trying to memorize them. “One morning, she was gone. Her clothes were folded by the riverbank. No body. Just water.”

You felt it then—the current shifting behind you. You weren’t near the river. You were in your hut. But you could feel it. Like something had turned its face toward you.

Oscar stepped forward, close enough for you to feel the heat of him. “Please,” he whispered, “stay away from the water. Just for one day. That’s all I’m asking.”

He was so close. He meant well. He cared. You saw it in the tightness of his brow, the twitch of his hand that wanted to touch you and didn’t.

And that night, Aserion came into your dream again.

But he was no longer gentle.

You were in the river—again. But this time, it pulled you under. You didn’t drown. You breathed water. The pressure against your ribs was a cradle, then a cage.

He was there. Beneath you. Above you. Around you. His voice was colder now.

“You let him touch you.”

It wasn’t a question.

You couldn’t speak. Your lips moved, but no sound came.

His eyes glowed faintly in the black. He cupped your face with both hands. “You were made for me. My bones knew you the moment you stepped into my waters.”

Something slick coiled around your ankle. His hair. Or a current. Or both.

“You are mine.”

You tried to wake up. You couldn’t.

He kissed you—not with tenderness. With claim. His mouth never opened, but you felt it in your spine. Your body responded, not with pleasure, but with surrender.

When you finally woke, the fog had pushed in through the walls. It filled your lungs like breath you didn’t remember taking.

Your reflection in the mirror shimmered. Your pupils were too large. Your lips too red. You reeked of river water. And something darker beneath it.

You didn’t visit the river that day.

But at night—you found wet footprints leading from the water to your door.

• • — ✦ — • •

You don't tell Oscar. You don’t tell anyone. What would you even say?

Instead, you sit inside with your curtains drawn. You sleep with the light on. You don’t dream.

Until you do.

• • — ✦ — • •

This dream isn’t like the others.

You’re not floating. You’re lying in your bed. But the walls are melting. The windows are underwater.

He stands at the edge of the room. Naked. Beautiful. Wrong. His body is too still. Too quiet. His mouth doesn’t move when he speaks.

“There’s nowhere you can run.”

You try to scream. He steps closer.

“I waited for you when your bones were ash. I will wait again, if I must.”

The fog fills your lungs. You fall back.

He climbs onto the bed like a lover. Like a shadow. Like death.

“You smell like him still,” he whispers into your neck. “That will change.”

And then—he places his palm over your heart. You feel it stop. Just for a moment. Just long enough.

• • — ✦ — • •

You wake up choking.

The floor is wet. Your sheets are soaked. Your door is open.

You hear footsteps walking back toward the trees. Slow. Certain.

You run to the door. You look—but there’s only the river. Still as a mirror.

And floating at its center—something pale. Smooth.

A stone. The exact size of a human heart.

Your name is carved into it.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl @nomi-candies @jsprien213 @kaii-nana33 @saturnalya @yandereaficionado @pinksaiyans @ivantillenthusiast @missybabes

[noirscript]

Hii, I love your fics. Please may I request yandere demon who’s quite possessive and strict with reader but can also be quite coddling?

Hollow Haven

Description: You tried to escape, but Alastor’s grip is tighter than you think. In his haven, freedom is just an illusion.

Warning/s: Yandere | Possession | Captivity | Psychological horror | Emotional Manipulation | Failed Escape | Yandere Demon

Note: I will not be able to tag this fic below. Read the warnings before proceeding. I hope you like this anon!

Join the 1.5k(+) celebration. Request is open (but will take time to be fulfilled due to irl).

You hadn’t expected the doorknob to turn.

For months, or maybe longer—time had no structure in that place—you had tried it at least once a day, if only to confirm that it remained locked. You had long accepted it was symbolic more than anything. A performance of hope to make the silence bearable.

But this time, it clicked.

The metal handle turned with a dry groan, and the heavy door creaked open by just a sliver. You stared at the small gap with disbelief, heart hammering so violently it almost hurt. For several seconds, you stood frozen, half-convinced it was another of Alastor’s games. An illusion. A hallucination. A taunt.

But there was a hallway on the other side. Dimly lit. Real.

You didn’t allow yourself more thought than that. You pushed it open fully and ran.

The floors were old and uneven, the walls crooked. Every sound echoed far too loudly—your frantic footsteps, your panicked breath. The air was dry, full of dust and decay, but it was different from the perfumed heaviness of his domain. There was no lingering scent of roses or sulfur. It smelled like neglect, like age.

You didn’t care. It was not him. That was enough.

You ran faster.

Corridors twisted in unnatural angles, as if the architecture had been scribbled by a madman. The hall stretched and shrank with no rhythm, yet you kept moving forward, convinced that somewhere in this maze, there would be a way out. It didn’t matter how the walls bent or how they whispered under your fingertips—you refused to stop.

At one point, you passed a mirror, and in the corner of your eye, you thought you saw him standing behind you. You didn’t look. Looking would give it power. Looking would make it real.

The hallway eventually ended at a door completely unlike the rest. Black, frostbitten, silent. There was no reason to trust it, but something told you it led out—truly out. You gripped the iron handle, wincing as it burned your skin, and pushed.

Cold air blasted you in the face.

It hit you so hard it stole your breath, but it was sharp and honest in a way that made your chest ache. Snow stretched out across a forest clearing, grey skies overhead and skeletal trees swaying against the wind. The colorless world was bleak, but freeing.

For the first time in ages, you remembered your name.

You stepped forward and didn’t look back. The door disappeared behind you, but you didn’t panic. That was fine. Doors weren’t meant to last here.

The snow stung your bare feet, but you kept moving. The icy wind bit at your exposed skin, and branches clawed at your arms and face. It all felt real. Tangible. Sharp. Everything the velvet-and-gold world he created had tried to numb out of you.

You didn’t know how long you walked. The trees blurred together, the cold numbing your legs, but you kept going until your knees buckled and you sank to the ground.

You were free.

Or you had been.

The voice came softly, as if drifting through the wind itself. “Pet?”

You froze. The pain in your legs vanished. Your ears rang.

“No,” you said automatically, as if denial alone would reverse time. “No, I made it out. I made it.”

You turned slowly, already feeling the weight of failure crash through you before your eyes even confirmed it.

Alastor stood just beyond the trees, leaning against one with casual grace. His crimson suit looked untouched by the elements. Not a flake of snow touched him. Not a single hair out of place. His long, dark red hair cascaded over his shoulders in elegant waves, brushing the waist of his coat. His smile was calm. Too calm.

“I should be angry,” he said, stepping forward slowly. “But I’m mostly hurt.”

You backed away, slipping slightly on the snow. He didn’t rush you. He didn’t need to.

“I’ve done everything I could to make you comfortable,” he continued, voice smooth and casual. “Shelter. Music. Meals. Company. Me. And yet, you snuck away like a thief.”

“I didn’t—” You tried to speak, your voice breaking. “I didn’t ask for any of that.”

He paused, tilting his head slightly. His eyes glinted with amusement—or something worse.

“No,” he agreed. “You didn’t. But I know what you need, little one. You’re just… confused. Sick, maybe. Tired. I don’t blame you for that.”

You took a step back.

He took two forward.

The snow beneath your feet turned to slush, then to liquid. It pulled. You gasped and stumbled, trying to lift your foot, but it stuck fast. The ground thickened into black tar, swallowing your ankles.

You screamed.

Alastor’s smile softened, and he crossed the distance between you effortlessly, reaching out as if to comfort a child.

“I forgive you,” he said, voice low. “Running away isn’t uncommon. Everyone tries it once.”

You twisted your body, trying to wrench free from the pull, but your limbs were sluggish. Your muscles refused to obey. The air thickened around you like glue.

“You tricked me,” you gasped, tears burning down your cheeks. “You let me think—let me think I got out.”

“Of course I did.” He crouched beside you, brushing your damp hair back from your face. “You need to understand what it feels like. The panic. The failure. That’s how you’ll learn never to do it again.”

Your breathing hitched violently. “Please.”

He leaned in, lips ghosting near your ear.

“There’s nowhere else for you. Nowhere safer. Nowhere that wants you.”

The snow melted entirely now, revealing a familiar velvet floor beneath you. The forest blurred and crumbled around the edges, giving way to the walls of your chamber—his chamber. Red drapes, soft lighting, incense curling in the corners. You sobbed as the illusion collapsed, dragging your broken hope down with it.

By the time the last traces of the outside world vanished, you were curled in his lap. His fingers moved gently through your hair, his other hand stroking your back.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’ll rest now. You’ll forget all about it.”

“I won’t,” you choked, shaking. “I’ll never forget.”

He smiled faintly, resting his cheek against yours.

“You will,” he said. “That’s the part you don’t understand yet. You will. And when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll thank me.”

You wanted to scream. But the room was too soft, too warm, too heavy. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even cry anymore.

He kissed your temple and held you tighter.

“You’re mine,” he said, not asking this time. Just stating.

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t have to.

[noirscript]

feel free to delete if this counts as a request :<

how many kids (if any) would your yandere OCs want to have with the reader?

Heya~ It depends on which time period they're living in. And how they view their children. (Also, apologies if my english is wonky. Brain unavailable atm.)

King Callixto definitely would have 3+ children. Well, who am I kidding. Definitely 5+ children. Listen, he needs to ensure that there will be heir and spares in case some unfortunate incident occur to his eldest child. And the children were more than enough to keep their mother in check. Couldn't risk her getting away again, could he?

Nicholas wouldn't mind having 2 or more children. He can afford them and his parents will be the one taking care of them. Also, he may or may not have developed a kink while his darling carries their first child.

[Spoiler] Laurent will probably be satisfied with just one kid. He wouldn't want several kids hog his darling's time. He wanted her all to himself. He wanted her attention, her love... everything for himself. But despite all this possessive streak, he's a doting dad who would definitely give the entire world to your child. Especially if the kid got most of your features.

tl;dr:

modern dads [1+] | they'd rather have you all to themselves than to share. but, if by any chance, your eldest did something during their infancy that made your man crave for more, expect around [3+] children. minimum. another factor that will increase the number of kids would be the amount of wealth they have. if the grandparents want it, they'll get what they ask for. as long as they're the ones taking care of them.

royalties/mythical creatures yandere [5+] | the minimum is 5. the mortality rate of infants during those challenging times are s low that spares should be readily available at all times. whether they'll be doting or not, it's gonna be another topic.

there's another question similar to this wait. I'll answer that one too.

[noirscript]

Can i get a normal day with Xavier? How would it be?Also i saw you first on the yandere x reader tag that i always use and 💖💗💕 KEEP GOING!!

Hiiiii!!! 🤩

BEFORE he showered you with excessive affection, Xavier is a decent boss. He clearly gave you the list of tasks you need to do for him in exchange of a decent place to stay in and good pay. During this period, he always make sure that you’re well-fed (after receiving your phone call, he was already filling up your entire month's schedule with subtle dinner dates with him). He also make sure that you’re getting everything that you need. It was pleasant and harmonious co-habitation, to say the least.

However, AFTER you discovered his darkest secrets, he became... different. Still, you were well fed and your needs are well met. But you’re now restricted within the confines of his property. He’s confident that you wouldn't be able to escape his grasp. His mansion is located at the heart of some forest, and the next town is located few kilometers away. You can try to leave him behind, but... well, ehem just a piece of advice: make sure to remove the bracelet he gave you.

[noirscript]

omg i loved the latest nicholas fic!! quick question - if y/n had a girl instead of a boy how would nicholas raise her? or would it be the same as if he had a boy?

Yup! He really doesn't care much about the gender of the kid. What matters to him is that you’re his—and there’s living, breathing proof of it. He actually intended to send the kids to his parents' place, since they were the ones who wanted them and can take care of them. (He did unlock a lactation kink during the first pregnancy, though.)

[noirscript]

You're a bad writer, I m not talking about the content, I'm talking about the quality.

Learn to make your writing more cohesive and coherent. You specialize in smut but the smut you write is awfully written. You have so many eyes on you don't waste it.

☝️🤓 — hi, anon. Thanks for sending this one. But I do know that I suck at writing smut. Hahahaha! Also, I write dark romance (not my forte either) for my own pleasure. Sharing it is just a plus. So, yeah. If you don't like it, skip it. ^^

[noirscript]

Hello! Since I read your Yandere OC stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do the yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?

Hi! This has been sitting in the inbox for awhile, but here we go:

the question about the kiddos are answered in this ask.

some would be jealous, others will be curious, and the rest of them would look at you and your son fondly. honestly, the last type of yandere can be wholesome if it involves you and the little family you have.

for example: nicholas. he originally decided to have a kid to fulfill his mother's wishes, but after getting the chance to have a taste of his darling's milk while their eldest is still weaning, he started craving for more of that. at first, it was just something he tried out of curiosity. something you indulged him for once. but when you noticed that he's almost competing with your child at one point, you started feeding your son in his room, locking the door to keep him away from your breasts.

I hope this answered your question (T△T)

[noirscript]

Hello!! I would like to ask which Yan will notice first if your sensitive spot seems to be behind ears?

Hi, anon! Sorry this took so long 🫣

He’s not yet introduced, but I'd say Nathan (Yan!Husband). Unlike the other OCs I've posted before, he slowly built his relationship with you. There's a well-founded trust and affection between you two... before everything went downhill.

Basically, he discovered the sensitive spot behind your ear during one of those days while you're playing under the sheets. He'll pull you closer to him, afraid of losing you while he's sleeping. His warm breath was enough to gain a reaction from you. He felt it, making him nut.

TL;DR: It's Nathan. :) But from the OCs atm, it's Callixto.

[noirscript]

How do you think your OCs would react to having an extrovert / social darling

A common denominator between all of my OCs so far is that they are possessive as hell. Seeing their darlings interact with others was torturous enough for them to find ways to keep them by their side.

Xavier would find ways to isolate his extroverted darling. Then, get her in the most subtle way he could think of. He could either send away everyone around her, or ruin her image? People would believe his story over hers. He's confident, and for a good reason.

Callixto? Oh, how brave of you to believe that there are still good people in his kingdom. Haven't you heard the news about the fraud who resembles his darling and even bear the same name as hers?

and Nicholas? His confidence was beyond measure. Nobody would believe the thief who stole the treasured heirloom of his family. His darling, who was once spoiled by her co-workers is now hated by everyone and was even used as a cautionary tale for the newcomers.

—

Note: Apologies if this took awhile! Currently out of the city and staying near the sea for vacation. Anyway!!! Til next time!!!

[noirscript]

How does Xavier's family react to the reader? They will be against it because Xavier chose a poor reader, not a rich heir. And how does Xavier himself feel about this meeting?

NOTE: I used f!pronounce for this one. My brain is not braining while I am writing this.

XAVIER's family almost NEVER heard about her. As soon as he got his hands on her, he brought her to a secluded location. Nobody knows about her whereabouts after the great fire that engulfed and erased the traces of her existence.

Her existence would've been eventually forgotten by everyone if not for that man who remains loyal to the head of his family.

Being the only son in his generation, Xavier almost always get away with everything that he does. Even the bad and immoral becomes good and nobody even questions his choices.

Which made reader's situation worse than it was before. Unlucky her, even his family would now erase her existence from the outside world. Because what Xavier wants, he gets.

[noirscript]

can u do a yan!archangel x angel!reader?

Hi there! Enjoy reading the piece in a bit, anon! I'm not sure if you're still lurking around, but finally! The final version of the draft is here~

[noirscript]

male yandere perverted neighbor x fem reader who’s also a pervert

ehem... uh... releasing tonight. ^^ enjoy reading!

[noirscript]

AAAAAAA, I absolutely adore your stuff! I'm just kinda nervous (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

Hihihi. Cutie~ (*≧∀≦)

[noirscript]

noir if your phone keeps lighting up with notifications I'd like to say it's just me binging everything you've posted in the last year and a half 🥲

🥹 TYSM!!! EVERY NOTIF WARMS MY HEART 🥺

[noirscript]

does asking simple questions about your yan OCs count as requests, or is it ok to ask them?

Ask away~~~ I might end up spoiling some stuffs though hahahahahaha

[noirscript]

could you make yandere Farmer x bratty reader from the big city?

Anon... are you still here??? Here's your request! Well, sort of... Um... enjoy! Let me know your thoughts about it T^T