#so I made an oc instead!

[viti-ocs]

OC × Canon Week Writing Drabble

I have no idea if I'm going to do anything else for this event. However I figured I already had something drafted related to the topic, so I might as well post it!

Featured Pairing: Wayward Hamilton Davis (OC) × Wilson Percival Higgsbury (Don't Starve)

Rating: PG13 (Minor mentions of violence and the possibility of death, minor depictions of discomfort due to pain, mentions suggestive content most of which occured offscreen)

Tropes: Strangers to Frienemies to Lovers, Age Difference (Way is 28 years old and Wilson's believed to be in his 40's by the fandom), Only One Bed (if you squint)

Background: Wayward and Wilson have been surviving in the Constant together (since day 1 for Way and day 3 for Wilson). They've been working together for months by this point. Their story begins during the events of the Don't Starve game, and eventually continue on into the story of Don't Starve Together. Though that's not super relevant for this oneshot.

______

Warm morning light slipped through the entrance of the tent, settling on Wayward's face and rousing him from his slumber. As he moved to sit in an upright position, something stirred beside him. Way glanced over to see the sleeping form of his companion turning over in the makeshift bed, snuggling back down once set in a more comfortable position. Way let out a quiet chuckle, carefully slipping away from Wilson's side out into the cold air, away from the warmth his body and the blanket had provided. Way used the light that seeped in to navigate in the tiny space and locate his clothes, dressing once he found each garment in turn. Only when he was fully dressed did he dare leave the safety of the tent. 

The sun shone brightly above his head, the day welcoming him as he made his way towards the fire-pit. The last embers of the night's fire still sparked in the charred remains of the logs and pine cones nestled within the stones. The flames had loyally kept themselves lit through the darkness, even while nobody stood to guard them. It would seem Wayward and Wilson had gotten lucky last night, in more ways than one. A proud smile spread across Way's face as he recalled the main event of the evening. The time they had spent together seemed to have put the young man back into a good mindset, and left him feeling more refreshed than he had since before entering The Constant.

While still under the influence of his euphoria, Way decided to be generous this morning and make something to eat for both himself and Wilson. He made his way over to the ice box which sat only a few more feet away, digging through its contents to find the ingredients for the meal. They were beginning to run low on their food store; today the two of them would have to go out and scavenge for more. Way made a mental note to run the plan by Wilson once he awoke. With items in hand, Way walked over to the crock pot, placing his supply inside. He replaced the lid on top, bending down to set a fire beneath the metal container in the leftover kindling from the afternoon prior. With everything set, the only thing left to do was wait. Shouldn't be too long, he told himself, lifting his arms into the air for a stretch. 

Wayward leaned back and forth on his heels in a motion of boredom, glancing around the campsite in search of something to hold his attention. He grinned with excitement as he noticed the mouth of the tent being pulled back. A moment later Wilson came limping out, hunched over slightly as he made his way to stand beside Way. He turned his head to look at the younger man, a tired smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A warm expression was set on his face, though his eyes revealed him to be suffering some discomfort. This only made Wayward grin more as he watched his partner hobble over to a log by the fire-pit and seat himself upon it awkwardly. His behind hung off the edge partially and legs spread to help keep balance. A small hiss escaped his lips as he adjusted himself to be seated more comfortably. Way tried to hold himself back from teasing Wilson for his posture, taking a few paces towards him with arms folded over his chest. He paused a moment to take in the features of his partner, his composure quickly lost. 

“Sleep well, Wilson?” He asked, amusement laced in his tone.“You seem to be walking a bit crooked this morning. Wonder why that is?”

A light blush spread across the older man's face. “You know very well why that is,” he mumbled. 

“Do I?” Way wondered, tapping a finger against his chin. He had to hold back the chuckle that threatened to rise from his throat; though he couldn't resist the urge to adjust his groin so that he was more comfortable. Wilson watched, becoming more flustered in the process. Way burst out laughing. 

“Hush!” Wilson snapped, turning his face away with embarrassment. “You're doing that on purpose, aren’t you!?”

“Aw, why are you looking away, Wilson? You could hardly resist last night,” Way teased. “If it weren't for you I don't think I'd have to adjust myself so much. So honestly this is your fault.”

“I- well...nothing would have happened if you hadn't ki..kissed me the way you did….” Wilson trailed off, failing to properly defend himself. He covered his face with his hands, letting out a soft groan. Wayward shook his head, grinning as he turned to scoop up the meatballs he had been cooking with a ladle, putting them in a set of bowls. He carried each over with him to the log, taking a seat. He gave Wilson a nudge to get his attention, handing him his share once he finally lowered his hands from his face. Wilson avoided Way's gaze as he ate his breakfast, head lowered, and brow furrowed. The man looked to be in deep thought, and Way wondered if he was thinking over the night's events, or about something else entirely. Curious, he decided to inspect. 

“Wilsooon,” he whined. “What's got your thoughts so focused, hm?” 

Wilson shot Way a slight glance before averting his gaze once more. 

“Stuff.” He answered curtly, taking another bite from from his meal. “Personal things.” 

“Such as...?”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “The situation we're in. What the future may hold….Us.”

Us, Wayward's mind echoed. He always enjoyed the sound of that. But what about them was Wilson thinking about? Their relationship? Was this even considered a relationship now? They had only slept together once after all, not confessed feelings or anything of the sort. Way felt his cheeks warm at the thought. He turned his head away, not wanting the other to catch a glimpse of his red, flustered face. Perhaps it was time he started thinking more about the way he saw Wilson. He was certainly more than a friend at this point. They had been through a lot together since Way had entered The Constant. Yet the status of their relationship seemed shaky. At times, Wilson could hardly stand Way. Others, he awkwardly fumbled his way into getting closer to him. Maybe I should ask? Wayward thought, peeking at the other man out of the corner of his eye. Seeing the expression on Wilson's face, however, turned him off to the idea. Instead, when the moment was right, Way scooted himself closer on the log. Wilson placed his bowl on the ground, giving his attention, reluctantly, to the younger man. His face for a few moments was unreadable, as Wayward turned to meet his gaze fully. He looks uncomfortable, Way noticed, wondering if it was because of the awkward silence that'd settled between them, or the ache that Wilson clearly felt in his rear. After a few more moments of unspoken words, Wilson turned away again, if only long enough to finish eating. Wayward waited and watched as Wilson consumed the last of his meatballs before deciding finally to pester him.

“So,” he started, “I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable you are.” 

“Marvelous observation as always, author,” Wilson deadpanned back. 

Wayward grinned, mischief dancing in his tone as he quipped; “I guess you could say I'm more of a pain in your ass than usual.”

Wilson flinched at the vulgar remark. Then he hid his face away behind his trembling, flustered hands again. Wayward in turn leaned himself up against Wilson's shoulder. He nudged a little, trying to gain some response from the other man. Instead, all he got was tense silence. Way leaned harder against Wilson's shoulder, resting the side of his head against his. After another moment he lifted his head slightly, lips hovering close to Wilson's ear.

“If you want, I could kiss it better,” he offered seductively, voice hardly above a whisper. This gained an immediate reaction from the other man. Wilson whipped his head around to meet Wayward's lustful gaze. The two locked eyes for a moment, faces drawing nearer until meeting at long last with lips pressing tenderly again one another's. The two pulled each other into a passionate embrace as they kissed, only parting when the need for air became overwhelming. A bead of saliva hung between them as they pulled back. Way felt Wilson's hot breath against his face as he panted softly, making him want to pull the other in for another round. Wilson slowly lowered his gaze from the young man's face, showing that he had other thoughts in mind. Way flashed a playful smirk, bringing a hand up to rest on Wilson's cheek. Wilson's eyes returned to meet Wayward's once more. As the pair leaned in to begin another hot make out session, a sharp howl pierced through the air. Their heads whipped in the direction of the sound simultaneously. 

“Hounds.” Wilson gritted his teeth as he jumped to his feet. 

“Of-fucking-course,” Way growled, following his partner into the tent to fetch their weapons. “Just when things were about to get good.”

“I'll try and make it up to you later…” Wilson promised, handing Way an axe as he picked up his spear. “If we survive. The hounds sound as if they're heading right for our base.”

“We need to lead them away.”

“There may not be any time."

“Even just a few feet would suffice,” Wayward assured. “Enough to keep them from wrecking the place. Once we've got the hound's attention we can flee somewhere further off. Then we'll take them down.”

“It sounds risky,” Wilson fretted with furrowed brows. Then, with a frustrated groan, his expression shifted to one of determination. “Alright, let's give it a try–”

“And try not to get killed in the process,” Wayward finished for him. 

[scourgiez]

Finally got around to drawing my farmer :P

[anbaisai]

It's not even actually their birthday

(Based on a conversation I had with a friend + Jamil's 2024 birthday present to the player)

[vaguely-concerned]

the fact that irving canonically survives through the end of asunder to be at wynne's funeral is so fucking funny to me. nothing but love and respect for MY unstoppable cockroach morally grey machiavellian mage dad!!! he's survived in his position through multiple attempted rites of annulment and blood mage plots popping up left right and center around him. the chantry keeps trying to stamp him out but his dodge game is simply out of this world, divine. civil wars, political machinations and minefields, chantry atrocities, this wily old motherfucker is dodging and weaving his way through it all, not-quite-no-hits-taken-running-it-but-honestly-close-enough-under-the-circumstances style. if solas does succeed in tearing down the veil I would fully believe that one of the like three people still alive at the end of it all would be a very weary 90 year old first enchanter irving going 'oh this shit again huh'. the maker has cursed him for his hubris and his paperwork is never finished (affectionate, it's fine he canonically loves paperwork)

[chalkrub]

more svanhildr - trying new things, like a brave boy

[rottengurlz]

"my jugular misses your teeth." 🩸

a collab with @kashisun 🔪

[blackkatdraws2]

There are more things in the Parable than Stanley knows about. [Blank Scripts AU]

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

Goretober Day 15: Parasite

uh um uh venom au

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[chocodile]

✨SPACE TRAIN✨

She's either going to Seoul or Rainbow Road, getting slightly mixed signals here.

[zivazivc]

my brainrot about these two can be measured in liters

[finzphoenix]

"I would have you by my side in Menzoberranzan."

Minthara and Kalius sharing an intimate moment above the lights of Menzoberranzan city, commissioned by @ilikedetectives!🖤🤍 Their inwoven braids representing the bond of marriage; symbolising memories, fate, and someone's personality/essence.

Kalius, OC © ilikedetectives

Minthara © Larian Studios

Art © FinzPhoenix

[caemidraws]

---

[thedorfmirrin]

Makin' a new oc:

This is Snowcone, a clown vulpix 🍭🌈🎉

She smells like cookie dough ice cream and her tail is covered in pompoms and glitter~ ✨

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

i'm not an amputee so absolutely tell me to stay in my lane if applicable, but it seems to me that there's something really unique about the way that black sails handles silver's disability and the narrative role of his prosthetic. as in, it's one of the only shows i've seen (although i'm sure there are more out there) where 1) a character's mobility is more impaired when using a prosthetic, and 2) where using a prosthetic is explicitly portrayed as an effort to appear more able-bodied to others in a way that's harmful to the amputee character: silver insists on wearing the leg in front of the men to the point of giving himself an infection and limiting his mobility in a fight because he's worried about maintaining his authority. while he doesn't choose to stop wearing it, i think it's telling that he also doesn't try to have a replacement made after he loses it or otherwise seem bothered by being seen using his crutch after he establishes the myth of long john silver by crushing dufresne's skull with his metal leg for mocking him as "half a man," symbolically tying the myth to his disability

[puppyeared]

this happened at least 7 times