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cannedpickledpeaches · 10 months ago

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Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Part 2 focuses on a bit of context. I’m sorry that not much romance is happening, it’ll exist later I promise. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Eventually, you grow bored of watching the three of them interact. It all goes exactly as the story says, anyway, down to the dialogue. Instead, you step soundlessly into the hallway and up the stairs to the attic.

You like the attic of this house. Warm sunlight spills in during the afternoons, and when it gets too hot in the summer, opening the window lets in the sea breeze. Not claustrophobic, but cozy. Your feet bring you to your usual spot, the narrow window seat. You have always preferred small spaces. Floyd once laughed and compared you to fish that hide in coral reefs.

Your fingers dig under the cushioned seat and lift it to find a compartment. Nestled inside is what seems to be a regular notebook. You place your hand on the cover and let your magic roll over it like heavy fog. Its plain, blank pages fade into the appearance of a manuscript—no, a stack of printer paper stapled together that contains the information that completely changed your understanding of this world. This humble manuscript tells the “original story.”

You found it while cleaning the attic. Neither Jade or Floyd could confirm its origins or its author. The cover page is blank, save for the title: (Y/N)’s Story. At first, you thought it was a prank that the two were playing on you, so you read through the entire thing. The writing is immature, rampant with purple prose, and the grammar has more than room for improvement. Neither twin writes this way. Floyd lacks the patience to write past a page and Jade is too much of a perfectionist. They could have hired someone, but there are too many personal details in there for your comfort. You decided to put it down and mull it over.

The very next day, Jade ate an unknown mushroom and proceeded to find out that his body strongly disagreed with it. For three nights, he laid in bed with a fever. At first, you thought nothing of it, but the description of the mushroom he ate was uncomfortably familiar. The manuscript mentions this event as a quirky flashback meant to create insight to Jade’s character. Of course, it brushes off the absolutely miserable state he was in for the comedic factor. This alone was not enough. You needed more proof.

The next one was Floyd. He took a broom twenty meters off the ground before his mood suddenly flipped and he could no longer come back down. The story mentions this in another flashback, but does not mention your involvement in flying up there and helping him down. Only the information relevant to the main characters is important enough to mention. Again, it could easily be brushed off as a normal Floyd antic if it weren’t for the detail that he rode and nearly broke his mother’s broom. It was the first and only time any of you had seen it. Their mother, like most merfolk, is not fond of flying.

Once is a coincidence. Twice is suspicious. You confided in the twins. They, understandably, said you were being paranoid. Weeks passed until the next major event, and this time, you could no longer ignore it. This time, the event nearly uprooted the entire Leech Mafia.

You did not watch it happen. You received a text from Jade that asked you to come to a private hospital with an uncharacteristic urgency, so you tipped the taxi driver handsomely to push the speed limit and skirt around traffic laws. When you arrived, you found Mr. and Mrs. Leech lying in pristine white hospital beds with ashy faces. Someone cursed their dinner. You had to physically grab on to both twins—Floyd so that he wouldn’t start breaking things, and Jade so that he wouldn’t immediately leave and track down the assassin himself. You understood those sentiments, but at the moment, both of them needed to be there.

No matter how many specialists they hired and bribed, nobody could figure out how to undo the curse. Luckily, or perhaps not, their parents fell into comas. Their life was still intact, but to what extent? For how long? And most importantly in a logistical sense, who would run the Leech Mafia?

Jade was the one who decided he would take up the mantle while pretending to be his parents. Too many beings, human and merfolk alike, would eagerly sink their teeth into their organization if word got out that the bosses of the largest syndicate of the Coral Sea were comatose. The idea was to stop all in person events and have him run the operations behind the scenes. Floyd would help, of course, but his fickle personality made him unsuitable to run such a large and complex network. Not that he wanted to. He hated all that responsibility.

When things settled down, you brought their attention back to the book. Rereading it with the recent developments regarding the twins’ parents made the cheesy, ridiculously over-exaggerated story seem like a threat. Did someone write it with clairvoyance? Did the assassin write it before committing the crime? Or, in the most unlikely scenario, is the story written by someone from the future? Regardless, after much discussion, one thing was clear: if real life progresses the way the story is written, then not only will the Leech Mafia prosper, the most important people to the twins will be cured with relative ease.

The solution is simple, given the rules which the story operates under. (Y/N) attracts the love and attention of anyone rich, famous, beautiful, talented, or otherwise an eligible bachelor. Thus, through heavy-handed author intervention, she becomes friends with a certain Vil Schoenheit. It so happens that he can brew potions and cast curses with his eyes closed, and anyone who can make such things is always careful to keep in mind how to unmake them as well. Vil, with all his natural talent and hard work, is nothing short of a genius when it comes to such unsavoury usages of magic. Such a complex curse takes him months in the story to dispel, but the most important thing is that he does manage it at the teary request of the story’s favourite protagonist.

The twins and Vil graduated from the same high school. Although acquainted, they are far from on good terms. With his connections in the entertainment industry, it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together and realize the two eel merfolk with the surname Leech are related in some way to the infamous Leech Mafia run by merfolk. Vil, despite his villainous air and name, is at heart a terribly good person. As soon as he realized the twins were involved in organized crime, he cut off contact completely.

But of course, the lovable (Y/N)’s doe eyes and fluttering lashes make him cave in. She can be quite useful in her own right.

You make yourself at home on the window seat, rereading the next chapter of the story. It is a nervous habit rather than out of necessity. By now, you can probably recite the story word for word by heart. The misspellings, the unpolished grammar, every bit of what seems to be a novice writer’s fantasy of an idealized romance. The mystery of the author’s identity constantly nags at you. What are their motives? How did they manage such a thing? The more you think about it, the more questions arise.

Sunlight makes its slow journey across the attic floor. When Floyd’s head pops up through the trapdoor, the patch of light on the wall glows a saturated orange.

“They left,” he announces, boredom seeping into his tone. Never one to be idle. “Whatcha doin’? Reading it again? It’s not gonna change, y’know.”

“I know.” If only it would. You bookmark the manuscript exactly where the story is currently at and slip it back under the window seat. Without your magic to feed the concealment spell, it returns to the appearance of a regular, blank notebook. It’s a precaution you took in case it goes missing. “Do you want to go on a short trip with me?”

His eyes light up and catch the fiery remnants of the setting sun. The yellow one seems to glow, while the olive one displays more gold flecks than green. Sometimes, it can be easy to forget that he isn’t a hyperactive, harmless puppy, that a single swipe of his claws can tear out a windpipe.

Danger presents itself in various ways with him. Everytime you get into his car, you regret it. In fact, you regret the day you didn’t stop him from getting his driver’s license. How he got the license is a mystery in and of itself. The way he drives is most certainly illegal, and the scenery flashing past the windows could very well be your life flashing past your eyes. When the expensive sports car finally screeches to a halt, you slump back in your seat and take several deep, shaky breaths.

“Remind me why we couldn’t get your private chauffeur to bring us here?”

Floyd’s grating laugh scratches its way into your ears. “Because it’s way less fun!”

You would beg to disagree, but a conversation like that goes nowhere with him, so you relent. You get out of the car, Floyd laughing at your unsteady legs, and ring the doorbell of yet another ridiculously large mansion.

Azul personally opens the door. Normally, his housekeeper answers the door and shows you to his office. He must be feeling somewhat worried in his own way. He leads you to the basement, his hands fidgeting with a small device.

“I don’t get it,” Floyd whines, draping an arm around Azul’s shoulder. “Can’t we just use Jade’s Signature Spell?”

Azul brushes him off and adjusts his shirt, the slight tick in his eyebrow giving away his annoyance. “We will have to wait until he gets here. You know Jade is . . . occupied at the moment.”

With bringing the lovely (Y/N) home and fussing over her humble lifestyle, no doubt. Since he must be the perfect love interest, he must cater to her every need even as she refuses his help, so he is likely making her dinner at the moment. He’ll surprise her with his knowledge of recipes to use with foraged mountainous plants and fungi, even though he comes from a family where money is not an issue. Rich, but not a spoiled brat. Mature enough to take care of her. Playful and unconventional to endear him to her.

“Knock knock, Handfish. You there?” Floyd raps his knuckles against your temple. Instinctively, you step away from him. He isn’t known for holding back his strength.

“Yeah.” You collect yourself and focus on the task at hand. No use wondering what Jade is doing right now. You have the story memorized—you know what he’s doing.

You enter a dim room. It is such a cliché. Surely, Azul should be more tasteful, but he’s always had a love for theatrics.

A man sits tied to a chair in the center of the room, his face flushed and angry. A handsaw tattoo stands out on his neck. This is Thug Number One, the extra who pulled you and (Y/N) into the alley earlier today. Recognition flickers on his face when they land on you.

“You’re that bitch who ran away! You—”

“What did you just call her?” Floyd’s teeth flash dangerously as his pupils shrink to pinpoints. One hand comes up to roll a shoulder back, popping his joints like he’s getting ready to throw a punch. Some habits never change. There hasn’t been any reason for him to get physical lately. He must be itching for a fight. “You wanna say that again? Come on. I dare you.”

Thug Number One shuts his mouth and looks to the side. No sane person would respond when the slightest nudge might set him off. Ever the crafty one, Azul orders Floyd to stand down. He’s playing the good cop for now.

“Now, now, Floyd. I understand that you want to protect the honour of our good friend, but let’s calm down and talk this out rationally.” What a load of lies. You know Floyd too well to assume that he’ll get angry on your behalf for something like this. He just wants to expend energy. “Yes, let us have a civil conversation—”

“Like hell! You tied me up and left me in this chair for hours—”

“And it would have been longer if we did not decide to visit you on a whim.” You stand in front of him, scrutinizing his face. No particularly outstanding features. He is, after all, just a nameless extra to the story.

Of course, he does have a name. Barry Moore, male, thirty-four years old. A low-level soldier of the Carpenter Mafia who joined two years ago. No family, no friends except his drinking buddies, no real connections. You texted Azul with a request to dig up this information about him while holed up in the attic. He mentioned that he’d expect payment, but you are not too concerned. You are not stupid enough to hand him a blank cheque.

“Barry Moore. I suggest you cooperate.” You pull a chair over and sit in front of him. “It is not my hobby to get violent.”

“You totally should, though.” The dim lighting casts unsettling shadows over Floyd’s face. “You’ll look just like a red handfish. It’s the look that suits you the best, y’know?”

He would think it’s entertaining. A memory of when you first met flashes through your mind. Silvery puffs of breaths in early spring air. Bright splashes of red on sand. Nails dripping blood. Red Handfish.

“I don’t need to right now.”

He huffs and kicks Barry Moore’s chair, making the poor thug flinch. “Booooring.”

“Cry about it.” You turn your attention away from his pout and study your captive. Information on his background is too limited. There is little you can exploit from his personal connections. Nothing tangible or emotional to threaten him with that you are aware of. So you either bribe him with something he wants, or . . . “Instead of me, maybe you should have some fun, Floyd.”

A sharp leer cuts across his face, his razor-like teeth glinting in the harsh light. Slow, lumbering steps bring him closer until he towers over Barry’s hunched body.

“You’re such a hypocrite, Handfish.” His cackles bounce off the bare walls. Madness shines in his golden eye. “Why didn’t ya say so earlier? I’ll make sure to take reeaaaal good care of him.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst x reader #twst fanfic #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #mafia au #never let Floyd drive a car #i firmly believe this

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