Chapter 1: Threes a Crowd
Chapter by Lunar (The_Cosmic_Ocean)
Chapter Text
Chance didn’t remember the exact moment everything had gone sideways. One minute he’d been in the fog, the next—he was sprawled in the middle of an empty parking lot, concrete biting his palms, streetlights humming overhead.
And he wasn’t alone.
Gubby, his original bunny, popped out of the shadows first, soft ears flopping as he made an excited little hop into Chance’s arms. Chance smiled, relief flooding through him. At least some things survived the transition.
Then came the other two.
One was a plain, twitchy little thing that Gubby immediately glared at, as if Chance had been caught red-handed cheating on him. The other… well. The other had a look in its beady little eyes that made Chance hesitate.
The small black-and-brown rabbit sat with his paws tucked neatly, watching him like a man might. Cold. Calculating. Like he could see right through Chance’s skin and down to his bones.
Chance bent down anyway. “Hey there, little guy.”
The rabbit’s whiskers twitched. Don’t you dare touch me.
Chance scooped him up. “Aww, you’re grumpy. I’ll call you… Mafiso.”
The bunny kicked wildly, thumping his tiny feet against Chance’s chest, but the blows did nothing but ruffle his shirt.
“Feisty!” Chance laughed. “You’ll fit right in.”
The first night was chaos.
Gubby curled happily on Chance’s pillow. The twitchy bunny claimed the blanket corner. Mafiso, however, sat upright on the dresser, unblinking.
Chance waved goodnight to him. “You don’t have to stand guard, you know. We’re safe here.”
Mafiso’s nose twitched. Safe? You idiot. I’m not protecting you. I’m figuring out how to strangle you with the phone charger.
Morning came with Chance humming in the kitchen. He poured pellets into three bowls.
Gubby dove in face-first. Twitchy followed. Mafiso just sat there, unimpressed.
Chance frowned. “Not hungry?”
Mafiso stared. You expect me to eat rabbit pellets? I still have a human stomach, fool. I need meat. Bread. Coffee.
Chance slid a carrot stick in front of him. Mafiso slapped it off the counter.
Chance laughed. “Picky eater, huh? Fine, I’ll try something else.”
Mafiso hopped onto the counter, seized a slice of bread in his teeth, and tore into it like it was a victory feast.
Chance blinked. “Oh. You want people food? That’s… weird, but okay.”
Mafiso chewed smugly, crumbs sticking to his fur. Finally. A shred of dignity.
Chance smiled fondly. “You’re such a little character, Mafiso.”
Mafiso narrowed his eyes, crumbs falling from his whiskers. I’ll kill you in your sleep.
And so it began: Chance, blissfully unaware that one of his three bunnies was not only human-minded but actively plotting his demise.
To Chance, Mafiso was just another pet with a funny personality. To Mafiso, Chance was the obstacle between him and freedom.
Three bunnies. One survivor. And only one of them knew how much danger Chance was really in.
Mafiso had had enough.
Two days. Two endless, humiliating days of being cradled like a child, spoken to in baby talk, and—worst of all—watched by that smug little fluffball Gubby.
Chance hummed happily in the kitchen again, stirring noodles in a pot. Mafiso crouched on the counter, eyes narrowed. Now. This is the chance. Boiling water. Sharp knives. Perfect weapons, wasted on an oblivious fool.
He waited. Chance reached for the cupboard. Mafiso darted, tiny paws grabbing the knife handle. The blade was nearly twice his size, but with effort he managed to tug it toward the edge.
Chance turned around just as the knife toppled—
Clang!
It bounced off the counter, harmless, and Chance gasped. “Mafiso! Oh no, sweetie, did that scare you?”
Before Mafiso could retreat, Chance scooped him up.
Mafiso kicked wildly, furious. LET ME GO, HUMAN. I WAS ABOUT TO END YOU.
Chance hugged him close, pressing his nose into the rabbit’s fur. “You could’ve hurt yourself, silly bunny. No climbing near sharp things, okay?”
SHARP THINGS ARE FOR HURTING YOU, NOT ME.
Chance rubbed Mafiso’s ears, completely oblivious to the murderous aura radiating from his tiny body. “You’re just acting out because you’re stressed. I get it. New world, new home, new diet…”
Mafiso thumped his foot against Chance’s arm. Chance only laughed. “See? You’re talking to me already.”
I’M THREATENING YOU, YOU IDIOT.
That night, Mafiso tried again.
Chance lay asleep, Gubby curled against his neck. The other bunny twitched at the foot of the bed. Mafiso climbed slowly up Chance’s chest, every movement calculated. He stopped just beneath the man’s chin, whiskers twitching.
One bite to the throat. Quick. Clean.
He bared his teeth—
And Chance, half-asleep, instinctively wrapped an arm around him. Mafiso was trapped against Chance’s chest, pressed firmly against his heartbeat.
Chance murmured groggily, “Mmm, Mafiso… you’re warm.”
Mafiso froze. He tried to wriggle free, but Chance only squeezed him tighter, smiling in his sleep.
This is not happening.
But the steady thump-thump of Chance’s heart beneath him, the warmth of the blankets, the gentle rise and fall of breath… it was disarming. Against his will, Mafiso’s eyes fluttered shut.
When morning came, Chance woke refreshed. “Look who cuddled me all night! You do love me!”
Mafiso glared, whiskers twitching. …You got lucky. Tonight, human. Tonight.
Three days in, and Mafiso still hadn’t managed to kill him. Worse—Chance now thought he was bonding.
Mafiso would fix that.
One way or another.
Mafiso was done with half-measures.
The knife attempt had failed. The throat-bite had ended in cuddles. Every second in this humiliating fluff-body was eroding his dignity. He needed a plan. A real plan.
And then he saw it. The toaster.
Chance hummed, scrolling on his phone at the kitchen table while slices of bread browned inside the silver machine. Mafiso sat nearby, watching intently.
Electricity. Simple. Efficient. Even in this pathetic body, I can weaponize it. All I need is the right distraction…
The toast popped up. Chance reached for it, burning his fingers. “Ow! Ha, too hot.” He set the slices down, oblivious.
Mafiso hopped closer. He stood on his hind legs, tiny paws gripping the edge of the toaster. All it would take was one little push—tip it over into the sink. Wet metal. Instant electrocution.
He shoved with all his might.
Nothing.
Damn this cursed rabbit body!
He hopped again, planting both feet against the side and pushing. The toaster wobbled dangerously, cords stretching.
Chance looked up. “Oh! Mafiso, you’re curious today.”
Mafiso thumped his foot. Not curious, you fool. Deadly.
Chance chuckled. “No, no. Toasters aren’t for bunnies. You could hurt yourself.” He reached out—just as Mafiso finally shoved the toaster hard enough.
The machine tipped, crashing into the sink with a splash. Sparks snapped and hissed. Chance yelped, leaping back.
The kitchen light flickered. Smoke curled. The circuit breaker popped.
Chance stared at the mess. “What the—? Did you just… short-circuit the whole apartment?”
Mafiso sat proudly on the counter, fur singed, whiskers sticking up like static. He glared, chest heaving. Yes. And next time, it will be you in the sink.
Chance scooped him up before he could hop away. “You could’ve been fried! Oh my god—you’re smoking. Hold still.”
He rubbed at Mafiso’s fur with a damp towel, fussing over him like a frantic mother.
Mafiso snarled internally. Stop. Coddling. Me.
But all Chance saw was a disgruntled, slightly crispy bunny.
“Good grief. You’re going to give me a heart attack one day.” Chance kissed the top of his head without thinking.
Mafiso froze, ears stiff, body trembling.
…Did you just…
Chance smiled warmly. “I really do love you, you know.”
Mafiso stared at him, horrified, then buried his face in Chance’s sleeve—whether to hide his fury or his confusion, even he couldn’t tell.
One thing was certain:
The next attempt had to succeed.
Chapter Text
Mafiso was unraveling.
Every plan, every carefully calculated attempt had ended the same way: foiled by this ridiculous body, dismissed as “quirks” by Chance, and punished with humiliating affection.
He was Mafiso. A killer. A hunter. Not some house pet!
So tonight, he would go higher. Literally.
Chance had dozed off on the couch, a late-night movie flickering on the TV. Gubby snoozed in his lap, smug and comfortable. Mafiso glared from across the room.
That should be me ending him, not… cuddling him.
His eyes drifted upward, to the whirring ceiling fan. Heavy metal blades, spinning fast. One well-timed drop from above, bunny weight included, would snap his neck.
It was perfect.
Mafiso climbed. Onto the bookshelf, onto the curtain rod, inch by inch until he crouched above the fan, fur ruffled by the moving air. He steadied himself, calculating the exact trajectory.
One leap. Direct impact. Goodnight, Chance.
He launched.
Unfortunately, Mafiso was still a rabbit.
Instead of landing with assassin’s precision, he slipped—his back foot catching the fan blade. The force flung him across the room.
He smacked into the couch with a loud thump.
Chance jolted awake. “Mafiso?!”
Mafiso lay sprawled, dizzy, ears flat, humiliated beyond words.
Chance scooped him up instantly, checking him over. “Oh my god, you could’ve broken your little bones! You’re so reckless.”
Mafiso weakly twitched a paw. I was aiming for your skull, not the floor.
Chance cuddled him against his chest, rocking slightly. “You’re just attention-seeking, huh? You don’t want Gubby stealing the spotlight.”
Gubby glared from the lap he’d just been displaced from.
Mafiso froze, realization dawning as Chance pressed his cheek against his singed fur.
He thinks I… jumped for his attention.
Chance cooed softly. “You’re my brave little daredevil. Don’t scare me like that again.”
Mafiso’s chest heaved with silent rage. I will never… be your bunny.
But then Chance stroked behind his ears—just the right spot—and Mafiso’s traitorous body betrayed him. His eyes half-lidded. His muscles loosened. His tiny nose twitched.
Chance smiled. “See? You like it.”
Mafiso let out the tiniest involuntary squeak.
And that was the final insult.
The plan had failed. Again.
But worse than failure… was the creeping thought at the edge of Mafiso’s mind.
What if… I’m starting to get used to this?
Notes:
yall get a teaser since the next chapter is finished soon :3
Chapter 3
Chapter by The_Cosmic_Ocean
Summary:
Pls give feedback i love feedback (Or just comments and silly bookmark notes in particular)
ANYWAY i'm writing this at 1:54am just after i posted that TEASER chapter so uh apologies if some things are wrong
Chapter Text
Mafiso was unraveling.
Every plan, every carefully calculated attempt had ended the same way: foiled by this ridiculous body, dismissed as “quirks” by Chance, and punished with humiliating affection.
He was Mafiso. A killer. A hunter. Not some house pet!
So tonight, he would go higher. Literally.
Chance had dozed off on the couch, a late-night movie flickering on the TV. Gubby snoozed in his lap, smug and comfortable. Mafiso glared from across the room.
That should be me ending him, not… cuddling him.
His eyes drifted upward, to the whirring ceiling fan. Heavy metal blades, spinning fast. One well-timed drop from above, bunny weight included, would snap his neck.
It was perfect.
Mafiso climbed. Onto the bookshelf, onto the curtain rod, inch by inch until he crouched above the fan, fur ruffled by the moving air. He steadied himself, calculating the exact trajectory.
One leap. Direct impact. Goodnight, Chance.
He launched.
Unfortunately, Mafiso was still a rabbit.
Instead of landing with assassin’s precision, he slipped—his back foot catching the fan blade. The force flung him across the room.
He smacked into the couch with a loud thump.
Chance jolted awake. “Mafiso?!”
Mafiso lay sprawled, dizzy, ears flat, humiliated beyond words.
Chance scooped him up instantly, checking him over. “Oh my god, you could’ve broken your little bones! You’re so reckless.”
Mafiso weakly twitched a paw. I was aiming for your skull, not the floor.
Chance cuddled him against his chest, rocking slightly. “You’re just attention-seeking, huh? You don’t want Gubby stealing the spotlight.”
Gubby glared from the lap he’d just been displaced from.
Mafiso froze, realization dawning as Chance pressed his cheek against his singed fur.
He thinks I… jumped for his attention.
Chance cooed softly. “You’re my brave little daredevil. Don’t scare me like that again.”
Mafiso’s chest heaved with silent rage. I will never… be your bunny.
But then Chance stroked behind his ears—just the right spot—and Mafiso’s traitorous body betrayed him. His eyes half-lidded. His muscles loosened. His tiny nose twitched.
Chance smiled. “See? You like it.”
Mafiso let out the tiniest involuntary squeak.
And that was the final insult.
The plan had failed. Again.
But worse than failure… was the creeping thought at the edge of Mafiso’s mind.
What if… I’m starting to get used to this?
Mafiso sat in the laundry room, staring at the dangling clothesline.
Strangulation. Simple. Efficient. All I need is leverage.
Chance was in the next room, humming while folding towels. Completely defenseless. Mafiso dragged one end of the line down with his teeth, trying to knot it into a noose. Tiny paws fumbled, claws catching uselessly.
He growled under his breath. Cursed paws. If I still had hands…
After ten minutes of fighting with the rope, all he had managed was to tie himself into a loose loop.
Chance peeked in. “Mafiso! What are you doing, silly?”
Mafiso froze, half-strangled in string.
Chance rushed over, laughing. “You’re like a little magician—trying rope tricks, huh?” He scooped Mafiso up, unwinding the line gently.
LET ME FINISH MY WORK, HUMAN.
Chance kissed his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you hang yourself. You’ve got too much life in you.”
Mafiso thumped his foot. IT WASN’T FOR ME, YOU FOOL.
Later, Chance ran a bath. Mafiso watched from the counter, eyes narrowing. Soap. Water. Slippery floors. Many possibilities.
As Chance leaned over the tub, Mafiso launched himself forward, aiming to push him headfirst into the water.
Instead, Mafiso miscalculated. He slipped on the rim, skidded across the surface, and landed squarely in the water with a splash.
Chance gasped. “MAFISO!”
He scooped the dripping, furious rabbit out, wrapping him instantly in a towel. Mafiso’s ears drooped, his fur matted.
I… meant… to do that.
Chance chuckled softly, rubbing him dry. “You’re so reckless lately. Maybe you’re trying to tell me something? You act so… human sometimes.”
Mafiso stiffened.
He suspects? No. Impossible. He’s too dense.
Chance pressed Mafiso against his chest, voice quieter now. “It’s almost like… you understand me.”
For a fleeting moment, Mafiso’s fury cracked. Something heavy tugged at him. Of course I understand you, idiot. I’m still here. Still human. Still me.
But then Gubby hopped onto the counter and squeaked, jealous. Chance laughed, attention pulled away.
The moment passed. Mafiso buried his face in the towel, trembling—not from cold, but from the bitter taste of truth.
Another failed plan. Another humiliation. And the gnawing realization Mafiso couldn’t push away:
What if I never get my body back?
Mafiso was spiraling.
The rope plan: failed.
The bathtub plan: humiliating.
The ceiling fan plan… he refused to even think about it.
But tonight… tonight would be different.
Chance was making dinner. Oil hissed in a hot pan, garlic scent filling the air. Mafiso perched on the counter, eyes locked on the flame.
Fire. Yes. A simple push, a toppled pan, and the fool burns alive.
He crouched, ready to strike.
Chance stirred the pan with a wooden spoon, humming cheerfully. “You’re keeping me company again, huh, Mafiso? I think you like watching me cook.”
Mafiso narrowed his eyes. I’m watching you die.
He lunged. His tiny body slammed into the pan’s handle. The oil sloshed, flames flaring as it splattered onto the burner.
Chance yelped, grabbing the pan before it tipped fully. “Whoa! That was close—Mafiso!”
Mafiso tumbled backward, ears singed, paws sticky with oil.
The fire leapt higher. Chance swore, tossing a towel over the burner. Smoke filled the kitchen. Gubby and the other bunny squeaked in panic, scattering under the table.
Chance coughed, grabbing Mafiso. “Are you insane? You nearly cooked yourself alive!”
Mafiso kicked weakly in his grip, lungs stinging from the smoke. YOU were supposed to burn, not me.
But Chance didn’t let go. He held Mafiso tight against his chest, carrying him outside into the cool night air.
They sat on the curb together while the smoke alarm screeched inside. Chance buried his face into Mafiso’s damp fur, trembling.
“You scared me half to death,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
Mafiso froze.
Lose… him?
You’re supposed to be afraid of me. You’re supposed to hate me.
But Chance’s voice shook, raw and honest: “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mafiso.”
For the first time, Mafiso didn’t have an immediate retort. No sharp curse in his head. Just a strange, hollow ache in his chest.
Chance pressed him closer. “We’ll be okay. As long as we stick together.”
Mafiso shut his eyes, fur still singed, paws trembling.
Don’t say things like that. Don’t make me… feel human again.
Chapter 4
Chapter by The_Cosmic_Ocean
Summary:
So uh 84 kudos...
I did not expect some fic i write at 5am each mourning to blow up so fast TwT but tysm for the comments everytime i post i look forward to the comments <3
Chapter Text
Night again.
Chance lay in bed, Gubby curled on his chest, the other bunny tucked by his feet. But it was Mafiso who kept him awake. The dark shape sat on the dresser, ears erect, eyes glinting faintly in the moonlight. Watching. Always watching.
Chance turned onto his side. “You know… you’re kinda creepy, Mafiso.”
Mafiso didn’t move.
Good. Be unnerved. You should be.
Chance exhaled, staring at the ceiling. “Sometimes I feel like… you understand me. More than a bunny should.”
Mafiso’s nose twitched. His gut clenched.
Finally. Finally, you’re figuring it out—
Chance chuckled softly, breaking the thought. “Guess I’m just sleep-deprived, huh?”
Mafiso thumped his foot once, hard. The sound echoed in the stillness.
Chance jolted, then laughed nervously. “Alright, alright. Message received. You want the pillow tonight?”
He shifted over, patting the spot beside him. Mafiso hesitated, every instinct screaming to resist. Don’t give in. Don’t play his pet.
And yet… his paws carried him forward anyway. He hopped onto the bed, curling reluctantly near Chance’s shoulder.
Chance smiled drowsily. “See? You like being close to me.”
Mafiso shut his eyes, seething. I like being close enough to end you.
But that wasn’t true. Not entirely. Not anymore.
The next morning, Chance was making coffee. Mafiso sat on the counter, glaring at the steaming mug like it had personally offended him.
Chance raised a brow. “What? Want some?”
Mafiso’s ears perked before he could stop himself.
Chance laughed. “No way. You can’t have coffee.” He took a sip, savoring it.
Mafiso leaned forward, paw dragging at the mug. Chance pulled it back just in time. “Hey! You’ll burn yourself.”
Mafiso’s glare was sharp enough to cut glass. Not myself. You.
But Chance tilted his head. “Do you… actually want this?”
For a moment, Mafiso froze. The taste. The smell. A simple reminder of humanity. He wanted it more than he wanted to admit.
Chance frowned thoughtfully. “…You really are different, aren’t you?”
Mafiso’s heart skipped, though his face stayed cold.
He knows. He’s starting to know.
That night, as Chance drifted off, Mafiso sat awake again, claws curling uselessly against the blanket.
If he finds out the truth… what then?
The thought lingered, poisonous and terrifying.
Because for the first time since becoming trapped in this cursed body… Mafiso wasn’t sure if he wanted Chance to know so he could kill him—
…or so Chance would finally see him.
Mafiso’s patience had reached its limit.
Every night he swore it would be the one. Every morning he woke humiliated in the crook of Chance’s arm, suffocated in affection he neither wanted nor asked for.
Tonight would be different.
Chance was washing dishes, sleeves rolled to his elbows, humming as always. Mafiso crouched above on the counter, watching the glass in his hands glisten with water.
One slip. One shattered shard. One cut artery. Simple.
He waited until Chance leaned forward, then lunged. His tiny paws slammed into the drying rack. Plates clattered, a glass cup tipped over the edge—
Smash.
Shards scattered across the floor like glittering teeth. Chance swore, jumping back. “Mafiso!”
Mafiso stood proud among the wreckage, ears high, nose twitching like a warrior declaring victory.
Chance sighed, crouching to pick up the shards carefully. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, little guy.”
Hurt you, Mafiso corrected in his head. Not me.
But as Chance’s hand hovered near the broken edge, Mafiso acted without thinking. He darted forward, shoving his tiny body against Chance’s palm—stopping him from pressing too hard into the jagged glass.
Chance blinked. “...Did you just—save me?”
Mafiso froze. His heart thundered. His paw still pressed firmly against Chance’s skin.
No. No, that wasn’t what I meant. That wasn’t—
Chance smiled faintly, warmth softening his tired eyes. “You’re full of surprises, Mafiso.”
Mafiso ripped himself away, thumping his foot hard in denial. His ears flattened, fury boiling. No. Don’t you dare misunderstand. I want you dead.
But the image wouldn’t leave him: Chance’s hand cut open, blood dripping, his body still and broken.
For the first time, the fantasy made Mafiso’s stomach twist. Not with satisfaction. But with something darker. Something heavier.
If you die… I’ll be alone again.
Later, Chance lay asleep, Gubby curled like usual. Mafiso sat in the corner, silent. His claws dug into the floorboards until they ached.
He wanted to kill him. He wanted freedom. He wanted his body back.
And yet…
His chest throbbed at the memory of Chance’s soft smile.
He shut his eyes tight, trembling. I hate you. I hate you… so why can’t I finish this?
Mafiso swore he’d never get used to this.
The fur. The paws. The humiliating thumps that passed for footsteps.
And especially—not to him.
Chance.
The boy hummed as he cooked, laughed at stupid jokes on his phone, talked to the bunnies like they were people. And every night, he’d scoop Mafiso up like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Mafiso should have hated it.
He did hate it.
Didn’t he?
It happened late one evening.
Chance sat on the floor cross-legged, folding laundry. Gubby kept trying to burrow into the warm towels. Mafiso crouched on the arm of the couch, watching.
Chance looked up suddenly, meeting his gaze. “Y’know… you’ve got really intense eyes.”
Mafiso’s chest tightened.
Chance smiled. “Not scary, though. Just… sharp. Like you’re thinking. Sometimes I wonder if you’re judging me.”
Mafiso froze.
He sees it. He sees me.
But Chance laughed it off, shaking his head. “I’m ridiculous. Talking to you like you understand me.”
Mafiso’s ears twitched. He wanted to scream. I do. I understand you better than anyone. I’m still here. I’m still human.
Instead, he hopped down. Slowly. Hesitantly. His body betrayed him, nudging into Chance’s lap before he could stop himself.
Chance blinked, surprised. “...You want cuddles?”
Mafiso cursed silently, but he didn’t move away when Chance’s hand stroked his ears. Warmth spread through his fur, sinking deep into a place he thought long dead.
His mind screamed kill him, kill him, kill him—but his chest whispered something else. Something terrifying.
Stay.
Later that night, Chance lay in bed with Gubby at his side. Mafiso curled reluctantly against Chance’s ribs, pretending it was strategy, pretending he was waiting for the right moment to strike.
But when Chance’s hand fell gently, instinctively, over his back, Mafiso didn’t move.
He just listened to the heartbeat. Steady. Calm. Alive.
And for the first time, Mafiso wondered—
Do I even want to kill him anymore?
Mafiso was unraveling.
Every day he told himself it was strategy. Stay close. Lull Chance into false security. When the moment came, the kill would be easier.
But the longer he stayed… the less convincing the lie became.
Chance had fallen sick. Just a cold—sniffling, achy, wrapped in blankets on the couch. He still smiled through it, though, sipping tea with trembling hands.
Mafiso perched on the coffee table, glaring.
Pathetic. Weak. This is the moment. One leap at his throat and it’s over.
He readied himself. His muscles coiled. He lunged—
—and landed in Chance’s lap instead.
Chance chuckled hoarsely, scratching behind his ears. “Thanks, Mafiso. You always know when I need you.”
Mafiso stiffened. He hadn’t meant to. His body betrayed him, his treacherous little heart pounding as Chance’s warmth seeped into him.
No. No no no.
The next days blurred. Mafiso found himself bringing Chance little things: dragging tissues closer, nudging the tea mug upright when it tilted too far, pressing himself against Chance’s chest at night to keep him warm.
Chance noticed, of course. He laughed softly, voice still raspy. “You take care of me better than I deserve.”
Mafiso’s mind screamed. Stop. Stop saying things like that.
But his body leaned closer anyway.
One evening, Chance stroked his fur absently while half-asleep, murmuring:
“Dunno what I’d do without you.”
Something inside Mafiso cracked.
He curled tighter into Chance’s arms, hating himself, hating the warmth blooming in his chest. I should want your blood. I should want your silence.
But all he wanted was this.
His heart thundered. I’m falling. Damn it, I’m falling.
Mafiso lay awake long after Chance drifted off, listening to the rhythm of his breath. His claws flexed against the fabric of Chance’s shirt.
He whispered into the dark, unheard:
“…Don’t make me love you,"
The night was quiet.
Too quiet.
Chance slept soundly, his arm draped over Mafiso’s small body, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.
Mafiso lay there, staring into the dark. He should’ve wriggled free. He should’ve put distance between them. Instead, he stayed—pressed close, ears tucked against Chance’s shirt, listening to the heartbeat beneath it.
This isn’t who I am, he thought desperately. I don’t cuddle. I kill. I destroy. I don’t… I don’t need him.
But the truth rang hollow. His traitorous body betrayed him again, soaking in every ounce of warmth like it was lifeblood.
Then it started.
A pull deep in his chest. A tug in his bones. Like fire crawling beneath his skin.
Mafiso gasped—or squeaked, rather—claws digging into the fabric as his body convulsed.
Chance stirred faintly. “Mmm… Mafiso?”
The world blurred. Fur dissolved into skin, bones reshaping, paws stretching into fingers. The heat surged and then broke like a wave, leaving him trembling, breathless—
—human again.
Mafiso lay tangled in Chance’s arms, chest pressed against his, face buried in the crook of his neck. His hair stuck to his forehead, his pulse racing so fast he thought it might tear free.
Chance blinked awake. Slowly. Groggily. His gaze landed on him—no longer a bunny, but a man.
Silence stretched between them.
Chance’s voice was soft, awestruck:
“…You.”
Mafiso should have pulled away. Should have snarled, should have killed, should have done anything but stay.
But he couldn’t move. His arms—his human arms—tightened around Chance of their own accord.
And with a broken, breathless whisper, he confessed the thing he’d fought so hard to bury:
“…I don’t want to let you go.”
AND that my friends is the SECOND last chapter to this fic (DW next chapter will be longer i swear)
This fic was originally going to be two chapters and such but i kind of dragged it out just because i enjoyed writing it <3
Now as i dont have an editor if any of yall see ANY mistakes please tell me as i aint the smartest Forsaken player
Anyway hope you enjoyed and i shall see you in the next chapter :D
Chapter 5: Teaser, im posting actuel later
Chapter by The_Cosmic_Ocean
Summary:
Me: Wonder how the fic is going
Fic: 1000+ hits
Me: Holy sh*t..
ALSO some of yall talk so professional why im over here responding with "Im happy you are enjoying it <3" cause i dont know what to say without seeming weird XP
Chapter Text
NEWS FLASH: Chance woke half-ass-up and didn't realise it was a random man and not a bunny on him, but now he wakes he ahem. im going to shut up and let you read.
Chance woke with the vague, cozy awareness of warmth.
Warmth, weight, and the faint smell of something that was… not laundry detergent.
His eyes cracked open. And froze.
There was a man.
In his bed.
Arms wrapped tight around him.
Chance’s brain short-circuited.
…Who the hell is this??
He jolted upright, nearly headbutting the stranger. “WHAT—WHO—WHY—”
The man groaned softly, burying his face in Chance’s shoulder like he’d been there all night.
“Five more minutes…” he muttered, voice low, husky.
Chance’s soul left his body. “FIVE MORE MINUTES?? BUDDY, I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU!”
He scrambled, grabbing the nearest weapon he could find—a rolled-up magazine from the nightstand—and smacked the man square on the head.
“OUT! OUT OF MY BED, RANDOM INTRUDER!”
The man—Mafiso—snapped fully awake, glaring through his messy hair. “Stop that!”
“Oh-ho, I will not! You broke into my house, stole my bed, AND—” Chance gasped, clutching at his chest. “Oh no. Oh no no no. Where’s my bunny?! Did you eat him?!”
Mafiso blinked. “…What?”
“My bunny! Mafiso!” Chance shoved at his chest, frantic. “He was right here last night! Little guy, sharp eyes, hates pellets? You—you MONSTER, you better not have—”
Mafiso’s eye twitched. His pride burned.
“I am Mafiso, you idiot.”
Chance froze, blinking rapidly. “…”
Then he laughed nervously, pointing accusingly. “No. No way. My Mafiso is fluffy, bite-sized, homicidal maybe, but adorable. You’re—” His face went red. “—a man! A very suspiciously attractive man, but STILL A MAN!”
Mafiso dragged a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I’m explaining this. I was cursed. Trapped. That bunny was me.”
Chance stared. Long. Hard. Then pointed again.
“…Liar. Prove it.”
Mafiso smirked. “Fine. You know that stupid mug you dropped yesterday because you weren’t watching what you were doing?”
Chance’s jaw dropped. “…Only Mafiso was there for that.”
“Exactly.”
Chance’s shoulders slumped. “…Holy crap. My bunny turned into a dude.”
He ran a hand down his face, muttering, “I should’ve known. No normal rabbit plots murder that often.”
Mafiso tilted his head, voice softening despite himself.
“Do you hate me now?”
Chance blinked up at him. “Hate you? Pfft.” He shoved Mafiso lightly in the chest. “I should murder you for giving me a heart attack, but hate? Nah. You’re still my Mafiso. Just… taller. And with way too many sharp cheekbones.”
Mafiso’s ears burned red, “…Idiot."
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Sorry i keep putting teasers out but i dont want you guys thinking im dead or something-this time im putting a teaser out is cause its 2am im doing homework, then writing the chapter, quick hopefully 2 hour nap atleast, edit chapter rq, go to netball and then post it after.