also arctic foxes will eat basically anything dead or alive. therefore most hybrids are prey to af!bones. prepare for xem to pounce on you whenever they see you and occasionally bite you

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also arctic foxes will eat basically anything dead or alive. therefore most hybrids are prey to af!bones. prepare for xem to pounce on you whenever they see you and occasionally bite you
c!bones but he worships c!foolish
i'm just picturing Yogurt going up to af!bones and handing him a popsicle as Yogurt also struggles to stay cool in Las Nevadas even after years of living there.
-Fundy
af!boones and yogurt have def snuck off to snow somewhere
actually wait. i dont think arctic foxes can survive anywhere besides tundras. how the hell is af!bones alive in las nevadas
With a tilt of his head, a coy expression overtook his face, and the glowing netherite head of the axe hit the forest floor with a soft 'thump'. He leaned his form against the handle of the weapon, and leered down at the fox in his snare; pleading, begging for their life. It made his heart beat in a way he had never felt before, wrenching and soaring like a bad deed he guiltily enjoyed.
But this time, he couldn't feel the guilt.
With a sickly sweet tone, he cooes at xyr cries, and crouches in front of xyr trembling form, just out of reach of xyr grasp. He gives xem a smile with a glowering stare, right hand still grasping at the axe propped next to him, and reaches towards xem with a left. Once comforting gloved fingers pet softly at xyr ear, smoothing comfortingly over the ruffled two-toned hair.
He hums, "Oh Bones. Darling Bones. You say that so sweetly, and yet..." Fingers wrap tightly into the black and white strands between xyr ears, and he wrenches xyr head back with a withering smile, "You've already done it, hermoso."
He drops their head with a sneer, and rises to his feet, pulling the axe to rest upon his shoulder once again. Leather shoes pace in front of their figure for a moment in a slow, repetitive step, before he begins to speak once more.
"My zorro. Mi dulce Bones. I gave you everything, did I not? A home, a place, my treasures, my trust! Was it not enough? Was I not enough for you? Was it not enough that you left me night after night for a man you once hated? A man with nothing! Not even a grave stone to remember him bye!" He falls silent for a moment, mumbling to himself in a manic-induced daze, and wipes angrily at his face. His footfalls stop in their tracks, facing away from xem, and the head of the axe slips from his shoulder to 'thump!' into the dirt. His gloved fingers lightly curl around its decorated handle, and a forlorn, mirthless chuckle escapes from his throat.
"You know, Bones, I had a good friend once ask me,
I think I trust you...Should I stop?"
His head turns softly over his shoulder, and he gives xem a small smile.
"Maybe he should have."
He turns his head away again, a tormented moment of silence heavy over his next words.
Quiet. Familiar.
"But you know, hermoso, I had another friend who said something different."
When his head falls over his shoulder once more, a dark, manic grin overtakes his expression, and he turns to start stepping towards the fox in a slow manner; taking his precious time. He pulls the axe behind him harshly, leaving an indent in the dirt until the next rain came to wash it away, to leave no evidence of what was to be. He reaches their form, looming over them with a tilted head and an expression of unfeeling, replaced, glee.
"You see, my darling, he said...
Do you know what happens to traitors?
Nothing good."
And he pulls the axe abover his shoulder with a manic grin,
And he swings.
!!!
'Crack!'
When he opens his eyes, he stares openly, satisfied, with the warm slick of sanguine against his cheeks. Familiar. Red.
And the glow of the netherite reflected with blood, crushed violently into the fox's leg, tangled deep, within the roots of the tree. His snare.
And oh, oh does his apron stain with red once more.
- C! Quackity anon
The second Quackity reaches out to touch xem, xe's trying to lean away, too afraid of what would happen if his gloved hands came into contact with xyr skin. Yet, as soon as his hand touches xyr hair, it's comforting. Or it should feel comforting. With xyr other leg still trapped, xe can't move away from his touch, as much as xyr body screams for xem too. Xe almost leans into the touch and, with that, xe can almost pretend they're not at Quackity's mercy. Xe can almost pretend that they're back at the needle, with xem at his legs and his hand absentmindedly petting xyr hair.
Almost.
Too quickly does Quackity's grip tighten, causing Bones to wince. Their head is pounding, their legs are aching, and their arms are almost giving out. However, they fear any sudden movement will make Quackity snap; just like a predator. Quackity always did act more like a predator than prey. Maybe that should've been Bones' first warning to get away from him. Alas, Bones didn't. Now they're stuck at the hands of Quackity, and they can only pray he'll be merciful (Bones isn't religious, but they pray. They pray they makes it out of this forest alive. They pray to a God they don't believe in, for mercy and for safety and for anything God will grant them).
He listens to everything Quackity says. Or he tries to. The sound of his blood rushing through his ears makes him hard to hear, but Bones tries his best. He wants to say something- to tell Quackity that no, he was good enough, he was more than good enough, he loves him, but all of his words clog in his throat. He must look stupid: Tears streaming down his face and his jaw slack.
Quackity smiles and, for a moment, it's enough. It's enough for Bones' head to stop pounding and for their legs to stop aching and for everything to be alright. It's enough for them to pretend they're not in this damned forest. Then it morphs into an ugly, twisted grin. And he's walking towards them and oh God he's going to die he's going to die his prayer wasn't answered where is God where is He-
Quackity's axe raises. The moonlight hits it just right.
Death has never looked so beautiful.
Except death was never the plan. The axe comes down on Bones' trapped leg, over the roots. For a second, Bones is too shocked to process anything. And then they scream. Their throat hurts yet they continue screaming, they can't feel their leg oh God they can't feel their leg.
Bones screams. And, in between his screams, pleas leave their mouth. I'm sorry I won't ever do it again please I'm sorry please Quackity please I'll be good I promise.
In a way, their prayer was answered.
It was quiet. Beyond silent the woods felt, creaking crickets hushed and nightime birds flown from the brush. But nevertheless, the predator listened, and oh, he heard. He knew right where his pretty zorro was, and underneath his dirtied shirt vulterine yellow wings flickered in glee, barely able to contain the high of the hunt. Emotions flew rampant in his head in a jumble of undecipherable meaning, but despite the rush, he knew one thing was true.
He had already won. But what was one more game? :]
And escaping the choking silence, twigs snapped under his shoes, and an eerie tune escaped his grin in a whistle, echoing the one that started the hunt. He lumbered forward, netherite axe drug behind his form with a glint of previous blood and viscera. The whistling continued, and as he approached a tree, his grin grew wider.
With a sudden 'crack!', the canopy shook as his axe embedded on the other side of the trunk. He whipped around the tree to see the permanent damage to the potential hiding spot, but he knew it was fruitless. He was well aware of where his zorro was, but he liked the game.
He wanted xem afraid.
And so he did it again, and again, and again, his laughs and playful words creeping ever closer, the damage in the trees trailing right towards xem. Echoes of stretched "Where aaaare you, zorrooo?" becoming louder and louder, closer and closer. One final, desolate, 'crack!' rang through the trees, and then silence.
Dreadful, uncertain silence. Unwavering, and unrelenting. And then...
"I found you!"
The butcher's axe slammed into the bark of the tree with a deafening 'crack!', and the predator crept around the trunk with a sanguine, satisfied, grin. The bloodied form of the gambler, looming over the fox trapped in its roots.
The prey was betwixt his jaws, and it was time to feast.
- C! Quackity anon
The woods had gone quiet now and, as Bones desperately tried to get xyr legs out from the fallen tree, xe listened. Xyr dual colored ears twitched, straightening out as xe listened for the sound of something, anything, to signal where Quackity would be. Xe knew he wouldn't be the type to simply give up, as unfortunate as that was for xyr situation. Xe swallowed harshly, before giving the air a sniff; the scent of pine and grass and birds and Quackity made xem shudder.
They've never been scared of Quackity like this before tonight. Nothing he ever did was worth their fear, although some things he did were rather questionable. How he got so involved in his gambling, the rush of adrenaline through his veins visible to anyone around; the story of the Butcher Army-- which Bones distinctly remembers. They had been with Technoblade at the time, a loyal member of the Syndicate, who left for Las Nevadas shortly after. They were scared of Quackity then, but not like this. Not where they feared for their life.
Interrupting his thoughts was that horrifying tune. Again. He shuddered and began trying to pull his leg out again. He didn't want to be there when Quackity came around, only able to imagine what would happen to him. Before tonight, he was sure Quackity would never hurt him. Now, he's not so sure.
This never would've happened if he hadn't been sneaking out to see Wilbur in the first place. He silently swears himself for ever going out, but quickly replaces those thoughts with ones of escaping.
Then there a loud crack. Bones jumped at it, eyes wide as xe looked around for what it is, before the realization came to xem: It was Quackity. He was close.
The almost rhythmic cracking noises only drew them to panic, getting louder and louder as Quackity got near. Xyr breathing sped up and, with newfound strength, Bones snatched one of xyr legs from the tree trunk. Yes! Finally! There was hope that xe'd escape. And as soon as xe did, xe'd run away. Back to Wilbur, or the Syndicate, or somewhere- Somewhere far from Quackity.
Seems they wouldn't be getting as far as they thought they would.
Standing above them, with a bloody axe in a bloody apron, was Quackity. They paled. He was right there. They were dead. No doubt that Quackity killed them right here, right now, in the middle of the night, with one of their legs trapped. Tears came to their eyes.
"Please, Quackity, I'm- I'm sorry, I won't- I won't ever do it again!" They begged, a jumbled mix of pleas coming from them. "I'll never leave you again, I'll stay, I'll be good! I promise, just please, please don't hurt me! I'm sorry!"
They would feel pathetic if it was any other situation- being trapped beneath Quackity and sobbing and pleading that they're sorry- but right now, they just wanted to live. They hoped Quackity would have mercy on them.
bones. stop hurting me with your characters.
anyway af!bones my beloved
~ xd/mumza anon aka ares
no
af!bones waits for techno to come back when he leaves for the prison. he sits there at his door, curled up, sleeping there day and night, waiting for his return. weeks pass by. then a month. techno still hasn't returned yet, and bones hasn't left his place at techno's doorstep. another month goes by. phil tells him to go back to his den, but he refuses. he keeps waiting for techno. he'll wait for as long as he needs.
still thinking about af!bones with hybrids.
around hybrids who are generally considered weaker than them— rabbits, cats, birds— they're gentle, as well as protective, since their hybrid mind registers them as weak, even if they're not weak at all. they love to pounce on the typically weaker hybrids whenever they see them, unable to stop themselves from jumping on top of them with their tail wagging. little nips to their neck is common too.
however, around generally stronger hybrids— wolves, piglins, most hostile mobs— he's more defensive. if any weaker hybrids are around, he'll immediately jump to the front of them to protect them. usually doesn't like them, and will snarl and squint at them until they prove they're not a threat. also is more of a follower with stronger hybrids: does what they say without question, sits idly by their side most of the time, looks for any of their instructions.
now, how af!bones considers the hybrids of the smp, divided into whether xe considers them a stronger hybrid or a weaker hybrid:
— weaker hybrids: duck hybrid!quackity, philza, antfrost, slimecicle, piglin micheal
— stronger hybrids: sam, bad, blazeborn!sapnap, eryn, puffy, schlatt, foolish, techno, ranboo, tubbo
— neutral: seapeekay & fundy