Dream SMP Headcanons and Oneshots

One Nasty Scar

Art by meloneflavor on Instagram! Please go follow them, their art tastes like fizzy soda and pop rocks. This oneshot is inspired from this drawing, so credit goes to them for the inspo!

TW! Smoking

Wilbur had been left coordinates in the note from Quackity. It was Quackity's new plan, his city he was building from the ground up. It would only be right for Wilbur to pay him a visit. After all, Quackity did go through the effort of leaving him a note all the way at his shrine. Wilbur took one last look at his grave site before walking off in the direction of the coordinates.

The brunette man pushed his glasses up on his face as he walked. Checking his current position, he wasn't too far off, but he still couldn't see the place. He hadn't heard much of what Quackity was doing, but he still hadn't been back for long. Wilbur knew he would get around to catching up with everyone soon enough. Soon enough, the whole server would know Wilbur Soot was back and alive. Well, about as alive as he could get. Stitches held his skin together while it healed after much decay. It itched horribly, to be truthful.

Wilbur looked up to see a bright, big sign over his head. "Las Nevadas." He pulled his cigarette pack and lighter out of his pocket, sticking a cig between his lips and lighting it. "Looks like the place." Wilbur muttered to the wind as he took a breathe in, and then out, a grey cloud forming in front of his face. He walked past it and onto a black and white path. Was this really Quackity that did all this? It seemed too fancy, too much for the guy he knew.

It didn't take much walking to bump into Quackity. Wilbur looked the man up and down, seeing all that changed. Quackity did the same, his axe resting idly in his hand. The gambler's blurry vision in one eye made it a bit hard to make out the details, but Wilbur was definitely there, red eyes, white streak, everything.

The brunette chuckled to himself before pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, resting it between his fingers. Wilbur's other hand came up to his own face, pointing at his eye, right where Quackity's scar would be.

"That's one nasty scar you've got there, Big Q." Wilbur grinned.

Quackity returned the same menacing grin and lifted his axe over his shoulders.

"I don't wanna hear that from a walking corpse."

Wilbur's smile faltered ever so slightly as he dropped the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. "Now that was a bit uncalled for, wouldn't you say?"

Quackity scoffed. "You're a bit uncalled for, buddy."

The two men held eye contact for a moment before Wilbur extended his hand out. "It's horrible to see you again."

Quackity took the other's hand in a tight grip. "The feeling's mutual."

Wilbur felt the cold metal of a ring touch his hand. So Quackity really has changed as much as the brunette himself had changed.

Quackity saw the look of amusement in Wilbur's eyes and let go of his hand swiftly. The gambler spun on his heels and began walking further into his city.

"Come walk with me. Let's have a little conversation."

Wilbur quickly started walking after the other. He rested his elbow on Quackity's shoulder as he fell in line beside him.

"That's my line, big man."