Chapter Text
Chance was one lucky bastard.
They had managed to avoid an LMS with Mafioso since his arrival to this Realm. Whether they died due their gun’s explosion, a projectile, a floor hazard, or even just plain surviving with others, Chance had managed to avoid Mafioso expertly.
It was infuriating. It was also fully expected.
You see, Mafioso knew Chance. He had known him for a very, very long time.
Since they were children, in fact.
They had grown up together, Mafioso chasing Chance around rich gardens while their parents talked business. Playfights and chases and mock battles against rivals. There had been other children, ones that were quick to separate themselves as the group grew older, leaving only Chance and Mafioso behind, together.
Their playful bouts of childhood friendship had turned into more when their parents sat the two of them down, one day.
Mafioso hadn’t been surprised at being betrothed to someone, it was a common practice in his family, as traditionalist as they were. Being betrothed to Chance, however, was a bit more of a surprise.
In retrospect, it made sense. Chance’s family, the Fortuna Family, had a hand in nearly every instance of professional gambling in Robloxia, just about. Every casino, every gambling ring, was in some way linked to the Fortuna Family, of which Chance was the heir.
Betrothal didn’t need to mean falling in love. Mafioso had just been glad he was to marry someone he could actually tolerate. The feelings came afterwards, during long nights spent in casinos and mansions and anywhere money could buy them a seat. Just because he wasn’t in love, didn’t mean he wouldn’t treat his fiance right. Chance was a likeable person, after all. Charismatic, charming, positively adorable when they finally took off all their glamors.
He didn’t realize he fell in love until it was too late.
Mafioso torpedoed through the Round with a single-minded focus. Keeping that accursed Gambler alive just long enough to have a nice, long, talk.
The Survivors were quick to begin falling to Mafioso’s blade and claws, one by one by one by one did they fall.
The Pizza Man, Elliot Builder, skewered on his blade, a slice still resting in an outstretched hand. The Soldier, Guest 1337, mauled shortly after, failing in his attempt to reach that final healing slice.
The newest little Trapper, Taph, caught in her nest alongside that annoying CEO, Builderman. It was almost sweet how they tried to protect each other, but they both fell in the end. Walkspeed Override made quick work of the Trapper, before a Corrupt Nature was sent at the CEO, slowing him just long enough for Mafioso to rip him apart.
He summoned his boys to help eliminate the rest.
They led him to the overgrown Chicken, Shedletsky, and Mafioso relished in the adrenaline of something even near a true swordfight. Even with the few swings this realm allowed the Chicken, it was more effort than most of the other Survivors could even dream of managing.
The Canine, Noob, and the Hacker, 7n7, were huddled up together, desperately trying to finish a Generator when he found them. The Canine’s Slateskin meant nothing to Mafioso, as he merely waited patiently for its end, allowing his boys to get the first hits in. His chase of the Hacker was rudely interrupted by the last of the Admins, the Mage himself, Dusekkar.
Walkspeed Override, and he missed with a frustrated growl. This was taking too long. Pain erupted in his back as that wretchedly annoying Cultist, Two Time made their presence known. It was simple baiting, trying to lure him off of the Support, one he punished with a stray Corrupt Nature, returning to his chase against the Mage.
He caught up quickly enough, even as the Mage attempted to use a Plasma Beam. Luckily for Mafioso, the Mage missed, allowing him to fall to Mafioso’s blade. It was time to go Cultist hunting.
They weren’t very far away, attempting to work on a Generator while likely on cooldown from their ability usages. How unfortunate for them, that Mafioso stumbled upon them and landed a direct Walkspeed Override on their unassuming body.
He tossed them away after another quick death. The countdown started, the sky tinted red, and Chance was highlighted.
“Boys, you know what to do.” He said as he summoned his underlings. The small group began to rapidly approach Chance’s position, his boys moving to flank the Gambler and prevent his easy escape.
A bullet whizzed by, and the sounds of swearing soon filled the air. It seemed like Chance’s luck had finally run out.
“Lady Luck finally serve the divorce papers?” Mafioso taunted, his sword held threateningly as he approached Chance.
“Heh, nah, just one of her off-days. Happens all the time!” Chance retorted flippantly with a smirk, still holding onto their facade.
“About time your luck ran out. It’s time we have a conversation.” His own smile widened as he spoke, especially as Chance seemed to pale to a lighter shade of grey than their usually dark skin tone.
“Hah, why don’t we just have a good old fashioned fight instead? Like we used to, ‘ey Mafs?” Mafioso scoffed, smile turning bitter and sharp.
“”Like we used to”? Like before you betrayed me?” He growled, stomping a paw in rage, hand tight around his sword’s hilt. He could see Chance gulp in fear. Good. They should be afraid.
“I didn’t mean to-”
“BULLSHIT!” He roared. “DON’T BOTHER LYING TO ME!”
“Really, I didn’t!-” A Corrupt Nature flew past Chance’s head, and they froze like a rabbit in the eyes of a hawk.
“I could have understood if you wanted to take a lover on the side. If you had spoken to me about it first. I would have understood, but no. You went behind my back, and got with that- That murderous FLOOZY. And then you broke things off with me?” Don Sonnellino laughed for a moment, a frantic thing like a bird was flapping its wings violently in his chest. Chance and his underlings watched on, the Gambler in fear, and his boys in nerves.
“You left. I could have understood that. But then. Then you steal from me-”
“I DIDN’T STEAL ANYTHING!” Chance interrupted with a cry, and Mafioso scoffed.
“That game was rigged and you knew it! There was no feasible way for you to win!” He retorted, receiving a rare scowl in return.
“You know how lucky I am, I didn’t even mean to win! It just sorta happened! It wasn’t even my idea anyway-”
“Don’t blame him for your own bad decisions, Chance!” Another stomp of his foot, enraged.
Chance looked frustrated, a scowl on their usually pretty face. It was an appealing look on them, and it made Mafioso growl, low in his throat.
“You stole from me, you broke our damn betrothal without talking about it with anyone, and then you had the gall to go and die just to get away from me!”
Silence, for a long moment. The two stared at each other, the tension thick. Chance’s throat bobbed with a swallow, and Mafioso hated himself for noticing things like that about them.
“I didn’t think you’d care.”
Those five words hurt worse than a gun to the chest, than a sword through the neck, than a dagger in the back. They were pure devastation, a quiet admittance, something painful and raw and open in Chance’s voice.
Mafioso gritted his teeth, grateful for the shade his hat casted over his eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I? I loved you, even if I didn’t know it then.” He admitted in a low tone, his sword arm falling limp. Chance stared at him, expression impossible to perceive behind his poker face.
“I didn’t- I didn’t realize you- That you cared. He- He told me no one did, so why would you have cared either? It’s not like you noticed anything, anyway.” Chance’s voice turned bitter.
“I didn’t die to get away from you. Selfish asshole.” They growled, hands fisting at their sides. Mafioso saw red for a moment, a low growl seeping from his chest as he began prowling forward.
“How was I supposed to know ANYTHING with you!” He yelled in rage, grip tightening on his blade.
“You never said anything, always laughed all of my concerns off! Did you hate me that much?!”
“I never hated you!” Chance cried out, trying to back away, only to be met with a solid wall behind them before large paws pinned them to the ground in a violent slam.
“All you do is lie! To me, to others, to yourself! I won’t take it anymore! You’ll never get away with it again, Chance!” Mafioso yelled, leaning his humanoid half forward to hover over Chance properly. For once, their expression wasn’t hidden behind a clever poker face, fear etched into grey skin turned pale from fright. Took them long enough.
They were so pretty when they were scared. It was pathetic.
Mafioso channeled what little control over magic he had, over his own ability to glamor himself, to change his body, and exerted that force outwards through his sword. He drove it into Chance’s chest, right over the heart, and grinned as he felt the glamor that had surrounded Chance for so many long years shatter.
The terror in Chance’s eyes as their sunglasses were knocked askew was almost euphoria-inducing.
Their ears, once hidden seamlessly within the fur lining of their coat, practically melted back into existence. Wings, black and white and red moth wings, extended from their back against the floor. His legs shifted to their most natural form, digitigrade rabbits legs, the shoes disappearing in a flash alongside them.
They were exposed. There would be no fixing their glamor. Chance had never shown much of a proficiency for magic, and unless their Captor fixed him after the Round, they would be forced to reappear at the Survivor’s Camp in his true form.
The last thing Chance saw was Mafioso’s cruel, sadistic grin, and the red static that almost looked like hands clutching the Don’s shoulders.