I’m considering making a more fucked up/dubious kink character,, probably the stalker/yandere type, with some horror undertones mixed in,, I think it would be interesting to play around with writing a character like that— something a little creepier and more gut-churning than my usual fuzzy & silly little guys— (And I would of course tag something like that accordingly, and give plenty of content warnings for those squicked out or triggered by the topic. I don’t want to accidentally spring that sort of subject onto anybody with my fics & wavs without warning!)
I mostly say this because the idea of a sneezing-while-hiding scenario with a character stalking the reader (or a different oc? We’ll see) sounds FASCINATING and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it written or talked about before?? Like,, ok hear me out, I may or may not be cooking here
Ofc there’s the usual tension and desperate attempts at self-control, the urgent stifles, the high stakes— paired with notes of obsession, of internal conflict, of wondering what’d happen if they were discovered— I’m already enamored by that trope. But it can be taken up a notch.
The sheer panic or disgust or anger (or even excitement??) from the person they’re watching/hiding from upon hearing an uninvited allergic outburst from within their own home or workplace— what do they even do from there? Do they confront their uninvited guest? Do they run? Do they investigate, only to find nothing? Or does the stalker character get found out? How do they react from there? Is it even possible to talk their way out of that situation? Do they manage to escape, or face the consequences of trespassing into such a private space— or even a private moment—? Does their victim have the kink? Does the stalker themselves have the kink? How might that affect the dynamic and reactions each character has to their situation?
There’s so much there, and I have no clue how to go about writing it. I’m not accustomed to characters like that, but I want to branch out and dabble in more horror & tension in my writing— so this is the context I keep gravitating towards 💀💀
The only trouble is, I’m kinda at a loss for what design/themes/motifs I should include for a character like that. I know they’re going to be nonhuman, and probably a little abstract— but what direction should I take them in?
Should they be visually monstrous, or should their sub-humanity be more subtle, or even hidden outright? Should they be c/ryptid in inspiration? Maybe Y/ōkai? Something entirely new? What sorts of features or quirks should I keep in mind/indulge in? How might they affect the way the character interacts with the world, how they perceive themselves & others, and how they behave with/affect their victim?
Should their dubious behavior come from a place of malicious intent/desire, something more sexual and sensual, something more wholesome (that’s been twisted into something creepier), like worry or curiosity for their victim? Should it be out of care and compassion, or out of desire for ownership— like they view their their victim as a stray pet, or a rare treasure, or something useful to them, like a valuable tool— or should it come from a place of cruelty and malicious intent? A deeply-ingrained malicious nature? An effect of how they themselves were raised? A gnawing, unavoidable compulsion? Something more complex, perhaps something culturally significant to them or their species/race/etc?
Idk, I’ve thought about dabbling with/creating a character like that, but I always get stumped on what direction to take them in. There’s so many options, and every detail has the potential to change the entire vibe and genre of the character and whichever stories/fics they’re included in.
Any thoughts, ideas, suggestions, requests—? I’ve got so many concepts rattling around inside my brain, and I’m having trouble narrowing them down or deciding what will be the most engaging/interesting for people to read or listen to.
Ps: one of the other reasons I’m so determined to make a character that fits this niche is because I LOVE voice-acting fucked-up &/or creepy characters. There’s something very taboo and unusual and new about it to me— they feel like such a sharp contrast from the life I live, who I am as a person, my own values and boundaries, AND all the characters I usually create/gravitate towards. It’s a wild breath of fresh (or perhaps rancid, depending on how you look at it) air, and I think it’s a fascinating creative opportunity! Besides— the more variety, the merrier.
Hanzo/Cassidy – Trucker AU – Part 1 – noncon; choking – Trucker Cole meets a tramp that he doesn't know yet will change his life :)
TW: a bit darker than usual soooo be cautious. oh also: Cole says 'kid' to Hanzo but Hanzo is just about over the age of consent.
Also sorry to all truckers, I just think stinky filthy fictitious men are so hot :')
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It’s later than Cole would’ve liked arriving at the truck stop but there’s nothing he could’ve done about that one way or the other. All the roads around Denver are fucked up at the moment and the blockages keep pushing him further and further behind schedule.
All the other trucks lined up neatly are dark which is not surprising. It’s damn fucking late and Cole just wants to crawl into his cabin and pass the Hell out.
He carefully guides his truck between two already parked ladies, the sound of the engine a low, purring rumble that shouldn’t wake the gents left and right of him up.
It’s pure coincidence that he is looking at the restroom doors when they suddenly open up and two individuals stumble out; one tall and one considerably shorter, but both dressed in dark unobtrusive clothes and with their hoodies pulled up so he can’t see any of their features.
He slows his truck down even further, watching as the figures move away from the closing restroom door before the taller one pins the smaller one against the side of the ice machine.
“Damn… came too late to grab myself a little whore,” he mutters to himself, fingers idly drumming against the steering wheel. He’s got to admit, though, that he’s too damn tired to get one up. Maybe. At least he’s got to piss like a race horse.
Cole keeps watching the couple as he finally comes to a gentle halt between the other two ladies and gathers his things for a quick wash in the restrooms.
Whoever the lucky guy is, he scored himself an absolute beaut Cole realizes once the kid’s hood is pushed off his head and he can see jet black hair and a finely chiselled face. Looks untouched by acne and scars; just an unblemished porcelain expression with the darkest eyes he’s ever seen.
He’s a good ways away from the two of them but his eyesight is good enough to make out the important things. Like the coquettish little glare the kid shoots her john or the way her pale pink lips are shining either from lip-gloss or the nervous drag of her little tongue over them.
Is the kid even legal? Cole drags a hand over his mouth and chin, trying to dredge up the last vestiges of his morality but honestly… he doesn’t give a damn. Legal or not, the little beauty is obviously a runaway and knows her way around men. Doesn’t take more than a rough push to her shoulder to get her to go on her knees.
He’d watch more, but his bladder feels like it’s about to burst, so he grabs his few measly toiletries and starts to crawl out of his truck. If he didn’t have to piss so bad, he’d just forego it all and catch some shuteye. It’s not like he’s out to go on a beauty pageant so nobody gives a damn if his teeth are yellow and crooked or he reeks like he hasn’t showered in over a week.
Which he hasn’t.
Outside he takes a moment to pull his jeans up a little but sitting under his gut as they are there is not much he can do and after two or three steps they’re riding low enough again to air out his crack.
He can at least hear the little lovebirds now, their voices easily traveling over the otherwise dead silent yard.
“Open up nice and wide now. Gonna take you wherever you wanna go if you drain my balls for me.” The voice is low and rough; not one that Cole has heard before but there are a lot of truckers out there, sometimes coming in from the other side of the country, so what does he know.
“Las Vegas?”
This voice is silky and soft; maybe a bit darker than he would have expected from a girl like that but nice nonetheless. The way she talks, he gets the feeling she doesn’t know much English. Looks like she’s on hard times… but at least she knows how to use her body to get around the place.
As she says it, she is lifting her arm, out of the darkness of her sleeve suddenly poking a postcard that she lightly waves through the air.
“Yeah, sure. That was the deal, wasn’t it?”
Cole hears the clinking of a belt buckle, gaze moving down to see a nice long erection slipping out of the guy’s pants and slapping the girl in the forehead.
She pulls a face and tries to move away a little but the guy’s hand is suddenly jerking out and grips a fist full of her shining, ink-black hair. He pulls her closer, cock dragging against her soft cheeks and forcing her to close an eye if she doesn’t want it poked out. When she doesn’t quite open, he grabs her nose between two fingers, holding it closed until she flushes an alarming shade of red and finally opens up.
Cole has slowed down considerably to watch the whole action but he’s arrived at the restroom door and there’s not much he can do but step aside after seeing how the guy pushes into her throat as if she were a cocksleeve.
Well shit, that got him horny fast… and no bitch or spare change around to do something about it.
The door swings shut behind him but dully he can still hear the stud murmuring through; a continuous low monologue of unidentifiable filth. He takes a piss and tries to rub his half-hard cock into a full erection once he’s done, but without a proper visual he can’t get it up the way he wants to.
So he puts it away again and half-heartedly brushes his teeth while he can hear a low thumping sound from outside now, wondering whether the gent is fucking the little whore hard enough to have her head smack against the ice machine. Not bad.
By the time he comes out, Cole feels marginally more awake which is shitty since he wants to take a nice long nap until he has to get back on the road. He glances to the side at the pair still fucking right there in the open.
The kid’s fingers are clawing at the dirty jeans of her stud, the noises coming from her wet and gurgling as she chokes on cock – quite literally, it seems like once he takes a few more steps and sees that her face has taken on a worrying shade of blue.
“Hey… why don’t’cha go a bit easier on the li’l tramp?” he drawls. he is not in the business of sticking his nose in other truckers’ businesses but the slut looks on the verge of passing out.
Actually, while the guy turns to him with a low grunt of confusion, he can see her eyes rolling up into her head while her hands slowly stop their frantic clawing at the other’s pants.
Cole looks back up to the guy’s face. He’s a bit taken aback at the clear blue eyes staring right at him. There are scars slashed across the guy’s face, one of them slicing through his lips.
