[Loop Infinite]
Infinity, the number of never-ending value, had finally made its course. Infinite lives, infinite deaths, infinite possibilities, and only one who he would never forget even after infinity. Just as he's about to experience his 45th death, Diavolo catches sight of a stranger. Blonde hair, skinny neck, a punchable face, and arms that look like they would snap like twigs.
Of course, he doesn't catch all of that at first glance. He notices during his 46th, 47th, 48th, and 49th deaths, because, oddly enough, the stranger reappears.
Diavolo doesn't speak to this mysterious, typical white frat boy until the 69th loop. Their first words are rather ordinary, nothing special.
The blond bumps into Diavolo, then falls back and says "Sorry, bro." Diavolo sneers down at him, and murmurs a quiet, "Pathetic." ? Diavolo murders him, thinking that would be the last he sees of him.
[67]
Diavolo watched as Mr. Wonka made his way to greet the group of children visiting the factory. He had been shoved into this odd uncomfortably tight suit, surrounded by small creatures with annoyingly high-pitched voices.
Staying silent, the pinkette haired man watched with boredom as Mr. Wonka welcomed the children into the factory.
How sad, they all seemed so excited. They were only going to die, anyways. He had been stuck in this loop for quite a few days at this point, had learned the ins and outs along with the weekly routine.
It was sort of funny to watch the children die in hilariously ironic ways. Every time a child did die, well, he got to do a fun little jive and sing a song. It wasn't ideal by any means, but if there's one thing Diavolo enjoyed more than anything it was watching children die.
The oompa loompa (apparently that was what they were called...quite distasteful, but he didn't exactly have a say in it) directly to the left of him nudged him. Diavolo looked down only to see the oompa loompa attempt to grasp his palm into his own.
Diavolo pulled his hand away from the other creature aggressively. He scoffed and purposefully looked away.
The creature was not deterred. Instead, it gently poked his side. "What do you want." Diavolo coldly muttered, eyes still away from the oddly beautiful figure standing next to him.
"My name is Carl Wheezer. What's yours? D'you like Mr. Wonka? I personally love him. Hey, do you want to hear me sing a song?" The creature's voice was high pitched and annoying, grating on Diavolo's ears.
"No. Someone as lowly as you doesn't deserve to know my name. Now shut up, Mr. Wonka is leading the children to the squirrel room." Diavolo exclaimed, voice as frigid as ice. Turning away from this 'Carl' enigma, Diavolo followed the rest of the oompa loompas in a line formation.
"Playing hard to get, I see how it is." Carl said, winking suggestively despite the fact that Diavolo couldn't see it. Diavolo just rolled his eyes and continued walking forwards.
He wasn't 'playing hard to get' as Carl put it. He would never in a million years hold hands with the short orange green-haired creature. Especially not Carl, whose voice was oddly endearing with it's smooth undertone and its high pitched jingle...
No, Diavolo, don't think that way. He couldn't allow himself to fall into temptation. Swallowing to himself, Diavolo willed away the flush that had risen on his face.
Diavolo did his best to ignore Carl throughout the day. He did his job as usual, dancing when the children died, assisting Mr. Wonka around the factory. Carl was working quite hard next to him, and Diavolo audibly gulped as he caught sight of the sweat glistening on Carl's bulging biceps. Forcibly pulling his eyes away from the beautifully smooth skin, Diavolo got back to work fixing up a pipe that had broken. At one point Diavolo overheard Carl mutter "Let's get this bread." To which he was extremely confused by.
They had been at work for hours, and most of the other oompa loompas had retreated back to the sleeping quarters. Eventually only Carl and Diavolo were left working.
Shyly Diavolo glanced up at Carl, who met eyes with him. Staring into the vibrant eyes a moment longer, Diavolo pulled away with flushed cheeks. They worked in silence for a few more minutes. Diavolo's head snapped up as Carl walked towards him. The oompa loompa went to grab something, slightly brushing his pinkie against Diavolo's hand.
Diavolo's skin tingled where Carl touched hands with him and his heart beat erratically in his chest so hard that he thought it might fly out. There were butterflies - no, lions - in his chest, but it felt good.
Shaking his head, Diavolo swallowed. He couldn't allow himself to become attached. It was unfair to him and Carl-he was only going to die anyways. And it wasn't like he was in love with the oompa loompa, with his bulging muscles and his smooth skin and his high pitched ringing voice and-
No. He wouldn't. He couldn't.
Diavolo called Carl his "little ant,"in his head, but not because he was so small. He was just so freakishly strong. You've seen those ants carrying several times their own body weight? If not, check it out on discovery channel or something, it's awesome! Anyway, back to Carl. He's the most wiry and diminutive person but every ounce is either dense bone or sinewy muscle and he's as lithe as any olympic gymnast. Sometimes Diavolo wondered just how strong his body would be if he'd grown a bit more, but he couldn't help but admire just the way he is. He's as sweet as his name and twice as nice to look at.
It wasn't purposeful in any way, but the two slowly inched closer and closer to each other. It came to the point where they had to attach the broken part of the pipe to the existing line, which was a two person job.
Diavolo was holding the pipe. Carl was holding the screwdriver to shove it in the hole.
You didn't have to be a genius to see where this was going. As Carl knelt on the ground, Diavolo inched forwards, leaning down to hand Carl the pipe.
Right as he was going to place the pipe into Carl's hands, a loud boom shook the factory. Diavolo lost his footing, coincidentally falling right into Carl's arms. "Are you alright?" Carl murmured, smooth voice causing shivers to run through Diavolo's body.
"I'm fine. I'm going to go see what happened. Stay here." Diavolo exclaimed, pulling himself out of Carl's thick muscled arms. Carl just nodded, watching Diavolo's form fade as it got farther and farther away.
Diavolo made his way to what sounded like the source of the explosion. Everyone else was asleep, as oompa loompa's had the ability to shut off the serotonin production in their brain whilst they were sleeping, falling into such a deep depression that they napped for hours.
Humming to himself, Diavolo approached the edge of the factory. Opening up the door, Diavolo walked down the hall. He noticed that there was an old door that hadn't been there before, and the edges of it were singed and slightly blown out.
The explosion must be behind this door. Hesitantly, Diavolo set his hand on the knob, slowly twisting the door open. It made a horrific creaking sound, equivalent to a chicken sobbing in the Walmart bathroom.
Behind the door was a set of stairs, descending into darkness. Inhaling, Diavolo pushed his fear down and took a slow step down the stairs. Right as he was about to take another step, a face appeared in front of him. Jumping back in surprise, Diavolo brought his arms up to defend himself before slowly realizing the face belonged to Mr. Wonka.
"O-oh, hello Mr. Wonka." The man stepped further into the light, simply staring at him with an unidentifiable expression.
Diavolo went to take another step down the stairs, but was blocked by Mr. Wonka who directly stepped in front of him. Diavolo stumbled, falling against the wall. "I, um, I was going to check to see where the explosion came from-Mr. Wonka?"
The man slowly pulled something out from behind his back, and Diavolo's eyes widened as he identified it as a shotgun.
Stumbling back, Diavolo's back hit the door. He reached behind him, blindly searching for the knob.
It was gone.
Mr. Wonka raised the shotgun up and cocked it, pointing it right at Diavolo's head. Breath sucked away, Diavolo's shoulders trembled in fear.
He wouldn't get to say goodbye to Carl.
Mr. Wonka set his fingers on the trigger, and Diavolo shut his eyes. "Mr. Wonka..why?"
Cold metal pressed to his forehead.
"You were getting too close to the truth."
There was a boom, and everything faded to white.
Author's note
Oh no! What's gonna happen next? Also, Jimmy neutron also starts with a J, thought that was kinda funny!
[71]
They meet again in loop 71.
They're too busy drowning in a vat of mayonnaise to talk- quite similar to Death #22, actually- but their hands brush as they flail about in the disgusting substance.
Diavolo feels an electric shock run up his arm, making his lice-spotted hair stand on end.
What… What on earth was that?
He doesn't have much time to dwell on it, since his lungs are already filling with mayonnaise. The last thing he sees before he dies is, of course, mayonnaise.
Just before that, however, he sees what's written on the blonde stranger's sweater.
[J. Pauler]
So that's his name, hm? It's certainly not the worst Diavolo's ever heard, since it's still on his mind as he chokes to death on mayonnaise.
[82]
There's something horribly lonely about dying infinite deaths.
And perhaps that's the worst part - he's on loop 82, and it just keeps going, over and over. He can't help thinking 'Surely, it must be over by now', 'Surely, it must be over soon' and 'Why do I still smell like mayonnaise, the mayonnaise drowning was over 10 loops ago'.
That Godforsaken Giorno Giovanna told him that he would never find the truth - and now the only truth he can think of...
Is him.
J. Pauler.
In every loop since then, he's considered the man's sandy blonde hair, toothy smile, solid gold iPhone X. Diavolo doesn't know what an iPhone is, but he thinks he'd be willing to learn if it would mean he wouldn't be alone anymore.
Diavolo isn't used to being alone - for as long as he can remember, he's had Doppio by his side. In his mind. Doppio wasn't just his servant, he was his equal. He wonders if Doppio knew that.
Oh, Doppio.
His dear, sweet, Doppio.
Perhaps it could be his dear, sweet, J. Pauler..
Diavolo shakes his head in a bitter attempt to dismiss the thought. This loop, this time (and how long before it all merges into one?), he is alone.
Today, Diavolo lives for himself, and that is a beautiful thing. He strides along the seashore, magenta locks billowing in the wind behind him. He has his hands clasped behind his back, eyes closed and he breathes in the sea air, listens to the crashing waves - for this loop, for this life, Diavolo will live.
He's found it to be futile to focus on all of the things that he cannot do. Instead, he will think of what he can do - he is Diavolo, he is powerful, and yet...
He is paranoid.
The chatter of the other visitors to the beach makes his skin crawl. How strange a thing it is, to be afraid of being alone, and yet afraid of company all at the same time. It's an awful juxtaposition, a catch-22 - a catch-82. He's done this entire charade 82 sodding times.
82 seems like a lot, until he considers it to infinity.
The ocean is infinite. Diavolo sighs as he kicks off his shoes, leaving them at the edge of the shore. The waves crash over his bare feet. His toenails are painted in a glittery hot pink, but the polish is chipping now. Perhaps in another infinity, he will be a different man. A better man. Perhaps his toenails will be painted purple instead. Doppio always liked the colour purple.
He considers Mr J. Pauler - what kind of a man is he? A better man than Diavolo is, he's sure.
But then again, it seems that J. Pauler has met the same fate as Diavolo, and he can't help but wonder what heinous crime he has committed against the universe.
Despite growing up in the church, a priest as his guardian, Diavolo has never been a religious man. He knows that for many, sins still weigh them down, Catholic guilt hangs heavy over their heads. Doppio has carried that guilt for him. Doppio carried the guilt, the baggage, and though Diavolo could keep his head held high - no shame in his bones, he did not.
Hunched over, Diavolo hid away. He spent so much time planning out every aspect of his perfect life, that he never even got a chance to enjoy it.
He tells himself he will not make that mistake again. He tells himself that he will seize the day, carpe diem and all that. He tells himself that if he ever sees J. Pauler again, perhaps his only company in the weighty loneliness of infinity, he will not hide away. He will not be silenced. He will say...
"Hello," the word catches in Diavolo's throat as he speaks to the sky. He feels the sand between his toes, the wind in his hair. For a brief moment, there is nought but blissful respite. He is not trapped in infinity - he is infinity.
"Hello!" He repeats again, louder, bolder this time. He cups his hands around his mouth, opens his eyes wide as he stares at the blistering sun. "Hello there!"
J. Pauler, J. Pauler - the man that he's never fully met, and now he can't get him out of his mind. J. Pauler, his sun, his moon, his stars. Perhaps it's all moving too fast, and it's not love - he's certain it isn't love - but when you have infinity, who's to say what's too fast and what's too slow?
Light years measure distance, not time, and Diavolo has walked along the shore more times than he can count.
"... Hello." He whispers, to no one in particular, as kids bury him in the sand - shovelling sand over his face.
He's greeted infinity, and he hopes that one day, infinity will greet him back.
Before he passes from suffocating on the sand in his lungs, he swears he hears a whisper on the wind.
"... Hey, bro."
He smiles.
[107]
There were many idiots in his life. Many workers only bidding his rule for money or the futile attempt in gaining his trust.
In the end, only one life-long partner would be close enough to Diavolo, his consigliere, Doppio.
Oh, his sweet Doppio, only a faint memory now.
Perhaps he died in the final battle, perhaps he lived on only to die at the hands of Diavolo's successor.
In any case, Doppio was long gone in terms of being and time.
Diavolo was alone... until the nuisance arrived and kept on arriving. That Jake Pauler, such a contradiction of a man. Skinny as stick with a mind of steel, a punchable face with a charismatic voice, Diavolo had never seen such a person in his life.
There was… something about him though. Eyes that never lied nor feared, a voice that stood bold and brash, and a will that Diavolo was sure outdid his own.
Jake Pauler… a man with more life, more passion, and more savage than Diavolo could hope to be.
Jake Pauler… a man of strength.
Jake Pauler… a man of hope.
Jake Pauler… a man that Diavolo wouldn't mind seeing again after this timeline.
How stupid!
Diavolo would never succumb to such weaknesses. That was his downfall once, and he would never allow such unnecessary emotions cloud his judgment. No matter how long Giovanna kept him in this prison, Diavolo would hold on to the truth, the truth that that stubborn brat couldn't accept.
Diavolo was a king! He deserved his rank and would continue to fight hard. No stand ability can trap him, and no imaginary person would cover his focus.
No matter how much Diavolo was soothed by the semblance of normalcy in this hell.
No matter how Diavolo craved to see his presence, to hear his voice, to see his smile.
Diavolo was strong.
Strong enough to prevent the relief of seeing his… friend walk up to him, a bright smile that never changed on his face. Diavolo was strong enough to allow only a sliver of a smile pass through his barrier, not because he wanted to but to only be polite.
Author's note:
Sorry Doppio, there is a new bitch in town! :D
[121]
Diavolo is a resourceful man. He could live anywhere if he wanted to. Yet, in this strange place, in this strange time, it seemed he was being hunted instead of being the one hunting. A large organization had targeted him, and he was forced to run. Luckily, he had already reunited with his close friend, and they had banded together to try and reform the empire Diavolo had lost.
The two had named it Team 10, a symbol of their unity and longevity. As quickly as it rose, it fell due to the organization known as the Federal Bureau of Investigations.
Diavolo was confident that he could take them down, this was nothing compared to the affairs the Passione had gone through. Yet, at the slightest mention to his underlings, Diavolo's empire crumbled and armed officials were breathing down his neck.
"Bro! We can hide out here!" The two had entered the city of Calabasas, a familiar location to Jake. "We should be safe for a while, a few weeks maybe."
Diavolo nodded, looking around the spacious house. "This is a… nice place you got here." He mumbled, scanning the environment carefully.
Jake laughed softly, "This is my house. I can't believe that this timeline still has it."
Diavolo nodded once more, looking at his friend's expression. Jake's expression seemed mixed between nostalgia and melancholy. Diavolo left Jake to allow him to sort his feelings. He examined the rooms closely, watching for doors and windows to potentially escape from. The cabinets were full, filled with the fatty food that this country's people seemed to indulge in.
"Hey! Diva! I have a console upstairs, wanna pass some time?" These few weeks were going to be long if Jake insisted on calling Diavolo such a… unique nickname. "Well, are you going to be player 2 or not? Because, I already claimed player 1, and I will fight for it."
… Very long weeks.
Unfortunately, they weren't allowed so much time. Only a few days of laughter, shitty food and playfully wrestling over a controller, a knock on the door had startled them from the television at the dead of night. The two looked at each other, confusion and departure spoke in their eyes.
"It's time then." Diavolo said with sorrow, wincing slightly at the more forceful knocking.
Voices spoke through the door as Jake nodded, guiding Diavolo to the escape route. "You need to leave. I'll follow you." Diavolo nodded, feeling tears rising to his eyes. He crawled through a hidden hole, traversing through a maze of dead ends and multiple outs. When he strained to look behind him, Diavolo saw that Jake was no longer there and that multiple voices were conversing above him.
That idiot. There was no purpose in sacrificing himself. They both knew the consequences of getting caught, so why?
Why would he choose to die first?
Diavolo quickly crawled out the hole, running to the front of the house.
There he was. Jake Pauler. His Jake Pauler. On the ground, pinned down by men in navy suits and clear shields. One monotone, lifeless voice filled with authority and glee, "Put your hands up and on the ground. Your reign ends here, Team 10."
"Diavolo!" Jake cried, forcing his head up. "You need to run! Get out of here!"
Diavolo shook his head, "Why? Why did you do it? Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?"
Jake struggled against the two holding him down, "Because, without you, every day is long and bland. Every day, every hour, every minute, it's nothing without you there for me, bro!"
Diavolo froze, tears sliding down his face. "Jake… you…" A resounding blast had shocked Diavolo into the world again, Jake going limp with a last, "Diavolo…"
With a shriek of rage and grief, Diavolo charged at the men, no longer caring to feel the bullets sink into his skin. He knelt down the form of his friend, holding his body with a crushing grip.
"You idiot." A muzzle went against his head. "I wouldn't have even been alive if you weren't there to give me life" The gun sounded, piercing into his ears, and Diavolo fell to darkness.
Darkness gave way into light once more, another loop had begun. Diavolo looked around, seeing the somewhat familiar scenery of Italy. At least, he would be able to navigate through the system, even if a little.
And so, Diavolo took his first steps into the new timeline, searching for his friend and ready to slap him.
Author's note:
Noooo, don't slap him Dia!
[232+233]
Alright they gay thats it thats the plot uwu 3
For the 232nd time, Diavolo watches Jake Paul die. This time, though, is different. There's no blood, no fire or wretched screams, and no pain.
Instead, Jake Paul dies in the bed next to Diavolo's, with old wrinkled skin and a pair of dentures. Diavolo's own hair has gone gray, and his joints ache when he so much as blinks. Dying of old age should be peaceful, taking one last quiet breath and blinking out of existence, but it isn't.
Jake Paul gets up (with great effort) from his bed, hobbling over to the bathroom. The blonde reaches out for his walker, fingers gnarled and frail. He misses.
Then, he falls.
Diavolo watches. And waits. Five minutes pass, ten minutes, an hour, and eternity- Jake Paul does not get back up. Diavolo sinks back into his bed, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.
For the very first time since he's died (and died, and died) he feels… grief. It's almost as if there's a hole in his chest (not unlike Death #36, dying at the hands of Leone Abbacchio's Moody Blues) and Diavolo feels an inexplicable sense of despair.
Death is all Diavolo has known for a long time, yet somehow life is even crueler. Even crueler is the lifetime he's spent in this room, growing old beside Jake Paul and watching him wither before his very eyes. More than anything, even more than freedom from the neverending loops...
Diavolo wishes to go back to a time when he never knew Jake Paul. Back when he knew nothing and was nothing, back when death was blood and pain and not tears pricking the corners of his eyes. If he had never met Jake Paul... then maybe he wouldn't be feeling this way, like his heart has been ripped out.
Loop #233 begins right as his eyes slip shut. Diavolo surveys his new surroundings- a warehouse, by the looks of it. There's a piece of duct tape firmly secured over his mouth, and coarse ropes dig into his wrists from where they're tied behind his back.
"I'll ask you one last time- where'd you hide the money?!"
Diavolo turns towards the source of the voice, confused. His eyes land on a scruffy-looking man wearing a monocle and brandishing a rolling pin. As for the person he's threatening… blonde hair, skinny neck, a punchable face, and arms that look like they would snap like twigs… Jake Paul?!
Blood is trickling down his face, and he's just barely conscious. Diavolo struggles against his bonds, trying to get closer. He only succeeds in rubbing his wrists raw. He can only watch as the monocled man brings down the rolling pin, once, twice, three times-
Jake Paul lets out an unearthly screech, accentuated by high-pitched voice cracks. His face is bloodied, half of his teeth are bashed in, and he sounds like a strangled cockroach.
Diavolo thinks that it might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen?.
It's at the end of his 233rd loop, while getting blunt force trauma-ed by a rolling pin, that Diavolo comes to a shocking realization.
He's in love with Jake Paul.[364]
Diavolo blinked. He couldn't have heard that right. He simply could not have. Jake, his beloved friend, could not have asked him to dinner. Surely it was wishful thinking? Surely this wonderful, beautiful specimen of a man had not asked him, Diavolo, rightful boss of Passione, to dinner? Diavolo turns his head, desperate to hide the blush overtaking his face.
"Jake, I'd love to go to dinner with you. Everyday, if I could get away with such a thing." Diavolo whispers, half to himself.
"Good thing that it is everyday, bro." Jake chuckles out, caressing Diavolo's face with one hand, holding a youtube plack in the other.
"Bro… Bro, you have been the best bro, ever since my dearest Doppio left me." Diavolo sobbed, leaning into Jake's tender touch.
"Diavo-bro, I would very much like to start a brolationship. I think we can make this work. I'll pick you up at 5?"
And so Jake did.
Jake pulls up to Diavolo's alley refrigerator box in a red Ferrari, climbing out of the car without opening the door. He tips his Jake Pauler brand fedora, and holds out his hand for Diavolo to grab. Diavolo takes his hand, noting how soft it is.
"Bro, what moisturizer do you use?"
"Buy my merch and find out, Bro."
"Jake, my beloved Jake. I live in a box. I cannot afford your merch."
":pensive_flushed:, I could give you a 20% off price if you're one of the first 500 people to click the link in the description to buy my merch."
"That, I can do bro."
[420]
If you had told Diavolo that he would ever be in love, before he got yeeted by Giorno Giovanna, he would have killed you before you even realized you were dead.
But now, well. He doesn't have an excuse- he is utterly and completely in love, with Jake Paul.
"Hey, bro." Jake Paul whispers as he walks out onto the terrace that Diavolo resides on. The pink haired man is gently holding a half finished cigarette, but when he sees Jake Paul appear, he quickly throws it away, still lit.
"Hello, Jake Paul." Diavolo says, so tender that his mouth aches after having said it. Who would have ever thought that he'd be such a softie? Certainly not him.
They stand on the terrace in silence- and neither of them are uncomfortable in the slightest. After all the deaths they've been through, a moment of peace is well appreciated.
"What do you think we'll be next loop?" Diavolo ponders aloud, a question he has asked himself many times before. Jake Pual huffs out a chuckle. "Well, we haven't been sentient Beanie Babies™ yet. I think I'd like to be Smoochy the frog. What about you, my dude?"
Diavolo sits on the question. Which Beanie Baby™ would he want to be? A tough decision. "Well, to be quite honest, it doesn't matter which Beanie Baby™ I am, as long as I'm with you. My dear, Jake Paul."
He cups Jake Paul's face in his hands, and stares deep into his eyes, deep and beautiful and ever so brown. Hazel-green brown orbs that shone bright in the setting sun.
Eyes that were intently focused on Diavolo's face. No- not his face, his… lips.
"Diavolo, my best bro…" Jake Paul starts, and trails off, licking his lips. "Can I… Like I'd really like to kiss you right now, my dude."
Diavolo lets out a small gasp. He smiles, grinning wide, his soul patch stretching across his chin. "I'd want nothing more. Please."
Jake Paul leans forward and presses his lips against Diavolo's. His lips are dry and unchapped, but Diavolo finds it charming. The two pull back, staring into each other's eyes, and then surge forward once more.
Before they can kiss again, the terrace breaks off from the now burning house, having been set on fire from Diavolo's stray cigarette. They fall to their death, and hold onto each other tightly.
The two die, again, for the 420th time, kissing. Diavolo smiles as his mind fades away, ready for yet another loop.
Author's note:
And my bois are finally together! AAAAAHHHHHH, I'm so happy for them!
[500]
Alright they fight over I MEANT OVER merch possible breakup then get back together
"Dia-bro, I swear to god, don't you come any closer-"
"Jake, just calm down."
"Don't you dare do it!"
Diavolo finally snaps, shouting at his one true love in frustration. "We have to stop the bleeding!"
Jake Paul looks at him in horror, clutching his sweatshirt to his chest. "Not with my merch, we don't!"
Diavolo doesn't understand- even when Jake has a stump for a leg, he still refuses to use his 'Everyday Bro' merch to staunch the bleeding? At this rate, he's going to die. The memory of their last loop together is still fresh in his mind, and Diavolo can't- he won't- watch Jake Paul die again.
It's too soon.
It's always too soon.
He ignores Jake Paul's protests, wrenching the sweatshirt from his grasp. Jake Paul lets out a strangled scream as Diavolo tears the fabric into even strips, forming makeshift bandages. He stays silent as the amputated limb is bandaged, gritting his teeth.
After a tense moment of silence, Jake Paul opens his mouth to speak, voice filled with venom. "You shouldn't have done that."
Diavolo scoffs, tightening the bandages. "Oh, so I should have just let you die?"
"But that's just it!" Jake Paul is yelling now, his face turning a splotchy red. "It doesn't matter! I'm going to die, you're going to die, and there's not a single thing we can do about it!"
Diavolo goes still, his hands freezing over Jake Paul's bloody stump of a leg. "Jake Pauler."
His lover sniffles, not meeting his gaze. "It's Jake Paul."
"Jake Paul, then," Diavolo starts, his voice all too soft and tender for their dire circumstances. "Death isn't our only guarantee."
He takes Jake Paul's hand in his, holding it to his chest. "There's me," he leans forward, leaning his lice-infested pink hair against Jake Paul's shoulder. "And there's you."
Jake Paul's face is wet with tears, and Diavolo gently wipes them away. Diavolo reaches into Jake Paul's pocket, stealing his lover's phone. The password is, quite predictably, 'T3AM10!'. He opens the link to the Jake Paul merch store, ordering sixty-nine limited edition "J. Pauler Everyday Bro Fedoras'. He turns the phone towards Jake Paul, showing him the 'Thank you for shopping!' message taking up most of the screen.
"You… You bought my merch?" Jake Paul stares wide-eyed, his voice trembling.
Diavolo nods, his smile turning fond. "I did."
"Dia-bro…" Jake Paul rests his hand on Diavolo's face, gentle and bloodied. "I…" A sudden cough wracks the blonde's body, crimson dotting the edges of his lips.
"I lov…"
He sinks back into Diavolo's arms, his eyes glazed. Jake Paul's body is still warm, but Diavolo knows in his heart that it's just that- a body.
He grieves for the 500th time as Logan Paul in a pink domino mask comes up behind him, ready to finish the job.
[Loop 583]
The moment Diavolo woke up on the beaches of Italy's serene coast, he knew he had to find the one that had enraptured his heart- Jake Paul. It didn't matter how long or how far, for he would search the globe for his beloved if he had too, in order to see him once more before the grip of death claimed him once again. It was the only thing keeping him going, that blonde's sunny face and impeccable taste in fashion. He could picture him clear as day in his thoughts as he scoured the beach, praying that he would not be separated from the best bro he ever knew.
He thought back to the last loop, how Jake wanted to have that sunset date they whispered about but never got a chance to plan. Maybe… maybe Jake got here before him! He could have already set up everything! The food, the blanket, the moonlit walk on the beach- FOCUS DIAVOLO! Now's not the time to daydream, it is the time to search!
While he manuarved the beach venues, snatching a pair of binoculars 's in order to get a better view of the area. Along his route, he also grabs a Cantaloupe Melon & Cream Frappuccino for himself and a Starbucks Smoked Butterscotch Frappuccino for his broseph, thinking the gesture would be a kind one seeing as how he was already arriving far too late for his liking, the sun setting just above the horizon, turning the sky into a solemn pumpkin swirl twist.
Then, at the edge of the beach, meters away from a lovely dinner picnic display of Avocado toast and quinoa Buddha bowls underneath the watermelon umbrella that Jake must have carried all by himself was, well, Jake! His bro, his perfect man knee deep in the water, waving to him with all the excitement of a golden retriever.
"Dia-bro! Whazzup my bro!?" His man called out to him.
"Jake! I have missed you!" Diavolo rushed across the sand, the coffee barely containing itself in its container, much as Diavolo couldn't contain his desire for the other man as joy overfilled his being.
But then, he saw it.
THe fin rising against the surface of the waves. It closed in too fast for Diavolo to react in time, dropping his coffee on the sand as he reached out, desperate to warn Jake of the incoming danger. Why had fate decided now of all times to be the cruel, this unforgiving!?
"Bro-" Was all Diavolo could shout, Jake barely had enough time to turn around before the creature emerged from the water, pearl white fangs exposed to the air as this leaped at Jake, missing his torso by a hair and settling for his leg instead.
His bro for life was dragged under the surface, arms flailing in all directions as Diavolo leapt into the water after him, red pooling around his feet. Jake, in all his glory managed to wrestle his way out of the shark's gaping maw, kicking the accursed beast in its face, forcing it to retreat back to depths from which it came.
Jake fell back into the water, Diavolo swimming to his side, gripping the man tightly to his chest as he wiped the hair out of Jake's face. "I'm so sorry Jake… I should have-"
"Nah bro, don't… sweat it. We… cool."
"Jake please-" The man begged.
"Dia-bro… enjoy the food for me."
"Your not dying on me this time. I won't allow it."
"It's ok… there will be… other times Dia…" Jake choked out as he fell limp into Diavolo's arms...
Author's note:
Poor Diavolo baby, he came in late with starbucks and everything…
Oh man, my doc is cowwecting my spelling sometimes. This sucks :(
[Loop X]
Carl didn't know why he arrived in the situation he did. He's experienced multiple lives already, and each one caused more pain than the last. No one remembered him, not Jimmy, not Jimmy's mom. Carl was seemingly erased from the fabric of time and space itself.
Yet, there was one person that he would see, pink hair with mysterious black spots. That man prowled through various timelines with determination and strength.
Carl wanted him.
Carl needed him.
Over various timelines, Carl found out more about him: his name, Diavolo, his situation, a golden brat who decided to deny fate, and more importantly, the one who stole him from Carl, Jake Paul.
Another blonde brat who swiped Carl's lover away from him, a snake who swore to separate a pair made from fate.
Carl Wheezer would never forgive how much he had been casted aside.
It all started in that infernal chocolate factory.
Oh, his face, full of power and malicious glee of seeing the multiple deaths of children.
Carl wanted to see that smile, to hear his soft chuckles, to see the fire in eyes spark forth like a wildfire.
Alas, in that timeline, Carl was only able to move an inch as Diavolo moved miles.
Over the next few lines, they passed through in a tortuously slow manner as Jake Paul, that hideous, disgusting welp of man, had entwined Diavolo with his pseudo-charm. It was vile to witness Diavolo's smile grow around that blonde, to see his tears fall and arms embrace what was his.
Diavolo belonged to Carl, no one else. He wouldn't allow his precious Diavolo to be tempted by that snake.
With a mad grin, Carl shook himself from his thoughts and adjusted his orange and red striped overalls, turning to the two who laid in front of him.
They were stirring, writhing with confusion.
The show was starting, and soon Diavolo would only be Carl's.
"Hiiii, Jimmy's maaawm~ I made a little something for yoooouuuu~"
Author's note:
Gross stinky carl, getting in the way of their love!
[567]
Jake awoke in a haze, memory fuzzy as he tried to gather his bearings. His eyes burn in the bright light, a grinning face above him. A familiar voice can be heard to his left, as Diavo-bro is calling out to him.
The grinning stranger lets out a tsk, and stops Jake from glancing over at his beloved. Jake Paul takes in the stranger's appearance, all at once confused, yet intrigued. The stranger is familiar. Why?
"Hiiiee Jimmy's Mawm, I made a little something for you!" The stranger, a short figure with bright green hair and colorful clothing, drawled out.
"Carl Wheezer?!" Diavolo gasped in surprise, undoubtedly recognizing the stranger.
"Why, Diavolo. Did you forget, little ol' me?" Carl snarled out, grin shifting to a look of disgust.
A deranged cackling is all Jake hears before his senses are overtaken by an unnatural, unbearably loud buzzing noise.
"You rejected me Diavolo. You rejected me. I'll make you hurt like you hurt me. Starting with him."
"Wait, wait! I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I can do better, be better, just don't hurt Jake."
Diavolo's tears glisten in the bright light, and Jake has never thought that Diavo-bro had looked so beautiful. The pinkette's multi-colored eyes seem to stare through Jake, and he knows that they'll be okay, no matter what. Bros will always come before hoes, and the next life is no exception.
"I'll be okay, Diavo-bro. I love you, swag4life."
Jake closes his eyes, awaiting the inevitable. These loops only end one way, ever since he made fun of the Italian mafia on a YouTube livestream, he perished over and over. It never ends. A searing pain hit his senses and he felt what must have been a circular saw hacking down his leg, a rough cut severing even the bone. He could faintly hear screaming that he barely recognized as his own. Jake feels faint. The pain is fading, and he loses himself to darkness.
Diavolo blinks away the burning tears as his beloved Jake is horrifically mutilated. Carl couldn't have- shouldn't have- been here. It was impossible. Carl wasn't looping with them. He couldn't have been.
"Diavoooloo… I've come baaack!" That voice, the voice that Diavolo once relished, even if only reluctantly, haunts his ears.
"Didja think that you got rid of me? I'm baaack, and over yooou!" Carl, that Oompa Loompa, teased.
"Why? Why would you do that to Jake? He did nothing wrong!" Diavolo can hardly hear himself over the buzzing. The smell of blood permeates his senses.
"Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong? What you did to me wasn't wrong?"
"Diavolo, Y̸̨͇͚̤̻̍̿͆́̌͌͠͝o̴̞̲̻͙͙̤̦͚͊̑̈̓̐͊̂̚̚͝ữ̸̢͙͍̞̹̪̘̬̟͈̫͖̅͌̔̀̋̅̈̂̍̒̃͜͜͝ͅ ̸̖̗͈͍̘͍͉̤̈́̿̈́̉͐̄̔̇̚͜͝r̵̺̩̯̮̭̮͙̆͂̀̒͂͜͝͝ͅu̸͙̤̬̣̦̾̽̌͂͆̅̇͌̂͠͝ͅǐ̶̛̺̼̥̼̠͊̍̓̎̀̔͂̎̄̌͋̕͠͝ņ̸̭͎͓̼̱̖̣̣̲̲̼͙̬̩͒̇̔̿̐́̆̃e̵͎̓̓̅́̔͒̏̚͠d̷̠̗̫̠̣͍̫͒̆͑́̏̂͑͑̀̊͠ͅ ̴̨̧̢̰̬̘͚͙̯̠̲̞̰̹̪̆͂̏̃̇̏̏̋͗͌͐́̕̚͘ͅḛ̴̂͋̇̅͗͌́͠v̷̧͚͇̠̥̞̥̊̋͑̾̉̊̈͌̇̔͗͝͝͝ȅ̶̢̧̥͚͓͇̞̦̣̋̿̀͒̆͗̋͋͑́͊̾̐̒͠r̵̢͇̥̼̬͕̖̍͜ͅy̶̨̛͈̤̪͕̞̯̦̠̮͇͈̫̺͓̒̌͌̎̓̄͆̅̇̔̀̋ͅͅţ̴̧̺̰͇̼͉͕̞̻͚̼̼͉̭̂͋̉̃̊͜h̶̻̓̈́͒͒̑̆͌̍̏͋͐̎̈́̕i̴͎͓̭̖͖̥̠͎̭̫̋̂n̵̛̯̝̞̺̺̘̣̪̟̞̬̟̱̝̠͗̅̽̑̅͆̊̈́̃̿͆̽̔͒̒ǵ̴̜͔̄̐̈́̉́̐͐͑̑͐̓͌̑̃̄͝ ̴̧͓̝̪͎̗̈͜ͅ , and now? I will end you. Slowly, Diavolo. I will take everything away from you. Just like you took everything away from me."
Pain pain pain pain pai-
"DIAVOLO! Wake up! It's the next loop, we're alright, bro!"
[2,390]
Diavolo has spent an innumerable amount of loops within the arms of his lover, Jake Paul. He wouldn't rather have it any other way, truthfully.
Sometimes, though, he looks at Jake Paul, and thinks that he isn't enough. It's hard only having one person to spend the rest of your infinite lives with, and Diavolo worries that his love will get tired of him one day, and decide to leave.
He's scared, truth be told. And Diavolo doesn't get scared. Diavolo is a liar, a murderer, a mafia don, and was the most powerful man in Italy. And now he gets frightened by something so pitiful as rejection.
And still, he begins to look for ways to ease their infinite lives. With the lives they live (and die), nothing is ever permanent, but Diavolo tries to think of something that might be.
As he stands on a bus, hand gripping the hanging handle, Jake Paul holding his other, he glances across the mobile and spots a family of three. A mother, father, and daughter, sitting together, happy in each other's company.
The wheels in his brain begin to turn, and Diavolo has an idea. He smirks, proud, and doesn't even care when the bus crashes a minute later, sending both him and Jake Paul flying out the front window.
Author's note:
Uwu? What is happening?
[2,391]
The second they make come conscious in the next loop, Diavolo grabs Jake Paul's hand and begins running to the closest mall.
Jake Paul is clueless- of course he is, Diavolo hasn't told him his plan yet- but doesn't ask too many questions. It isn't odd for one of them to have an idea for how to spend a loop.
"Bro, c'mon, slow down. What are we doing at a mall?" Jake Paul asks, and Diavolo's lips tug upwards. "I have a surprise for you, my love. Just wait and see."
They enter the mall, and immediately Diavolo starts looking around. "Pog." Jake Paul says as he's dragged through the stores.
They enter the Lego Store ™ and the blond brightens up. "Oh, are we getting legos?" He asks, moving towards the giant bucket of legos. Diavolo follows, but instead of picking up a lego, he picks up the child standing nearby instead. Instead of screaming, the child simply stares up at him. Diavolo smirks. "Jake Paul! We are leaving."
They leave the mall. The child remains in Diavolo's hold.
Their home- for this loop, at least- is large and open. The perfect place to raise a child. When they step foot inside, Diavolo places the child on the ground, and looks them in the eye. Jake Paul crouches down to the child. "What's your name, little subscriber?" They look up. "Visqueux." Diavolo wrinkles his nose. Isn't that french for slimy? "Well," the pinkette starts, "your name is now Jake Paul II, Jiavolo for short. We will be taking care of you for the rest of our lives. Which may be a very short time."
The child- Jake Paul II, or Jiavolo for short- simply just nods and goes back to playing with the legos that Jake Paul had stolen and given to them.
The hours pass quickly, with Jake Paul infatuated with their new child, and Diavolo genuinely happy with their new… family.
Yes, what a wonderful family he's accumulated. Jake Paul and Jake Paul II, aka Jiavolo. The only two he needs in life.
He smiles and reaches down to pick up some legos to play with. Jake Paul grins up to him, reaching out for his hand. Diavolo grabs it, entwining their fingers together, and then reaches out to ruffle Jiavolo's, or Jake Paul II's, hair. The child doesn't even look up.
Their family.
He enjoys the next few seconds of pure bliss- and he doesn't even notice when the front door is kicked down, and the SWAT team shoots him in the gut.
Author's note!
Tehe
Isn't it cute that I named their child like their ship name? Owo
I thought it was cute XD
?
[3,328]
Diavolo was thinking about Jake Paul again. Jake even as a corpse, Jake was still the most charming man he had ever laid his eyes on.
Diavolo walked over to the window and reflected on his lonely surroundings. He had always hated the state of Florida with its mocking and overbearing amount of Jake Pauler Merch. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel isolated, despite having so many reminders about his bro for life around him.
Then,from his back porch he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the charming figure of Jake Paul, alive and well, walking and talking.
Diavolo gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a selfish, insecure, coffee drinker with tall legs and muscular hands. He never understood what the man, the myth, the legend that was Jake Paul saw in him. But, apparently even the worst of the worst had something shining underneath his outward rotten core.
But not even a selfish person such as the former mafia boss, Diavolo, the one who almost got rid of a group of annoying teenagers from taking over his throne, was prepared for what Jake had in store today.
The snow flurried down from the sky above, making Diavolo shiver. Or was it his anticipation? Diavolo grabbed a ragidy frog plush that had been strewn nearby; and he massaged it with his finger tips.
As Diavolo stepped outside to meet the man and Jake came closer, he could see the faded glint in his bro's eye.
"I am here because I want a hug," Jake said, in a clever tone. He slammed his fist against Diavolo's chest, with the force of 1211 hamsters. "I frigging love you, Dia bro."
Diavolo looked back, even more anxious than before while and clutching the raggedy frog plush in his hand. "Jake, me love you long time." he solemnly replied.
They looked at each other with confident feelings, like two gentle, giant geese screeching at a very spiteful birthday party, which had jazz music playing in the background.
Suddenly, as Jake leaned in for the hug, he pulled back. Instead, he chose to wound up his fist as he lunged forward and tried to punch Diavolo in the face. Quickly, Diavolo grabbed onto the ragidy frog plush even harder and brought it down on Jake's skull, wounding the man.
Jake's filthy legs trembled and his sweaty hands wobbled. He looked ecstatic, his body raw like a brawny, breakable banana.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground.
Moments later the imposter, the one who dared take on the face of his beloved and perfect Jake Paul was dead.
Diavolo dropped the bloody frog, went back inside and made himself a nice cup of coffee.
[69,420]
In loop 69,420 the lovers decided to marry. The ceremony was short and simple, the loops becoming so unbearably short that they had no time for a longer one. But, the memory would be one that they cherished forever onward.
Jake walking down the aisle, with his ripped jeans which might as well be shorts due to the state of them, a white supreme shirt along with a black jacket with "Jake Pauler" in white bold lettering.
Diavolo looked as beautiful as the bride himself wearing a potato sack over the top of his normal attire. Along with a smaller potato sack for the veil.
Diavolo shed a few tears as soon as he laid eyes on Jake, overwhelmed by his husband to bes beauty, "It's Everyday Bro" playing in the background only adding to his intense emotion.
As soon as Jake reached his place by Diavolo, Jake gently took both of Diavolos hands in his. "Bro, I-i love you bro." Jake said as tears rolled down his cheeks.
Diavolo gently pried one of his hands from Jakes and used it to tenderly wipe the tears from Jake's face, a sweet smile on his face as he did so. "I love you too."
The officiant proceeded to drone on and on about commitment, though neither of them were listening, staring deep into eachothers eyes.
Only when the officiant said the sweet words "You may now kiss the bride." did they listen, sealing their lips into a passionate, emotion filled kiss, sealing them together forever.
Their rings which they had already put on were a simple band of gold, though they could care less. To them the golden bands were a blessing, representing their commitment for each other.
As soon as they finished their long kiss, the large bell above them that hung in the church fell upon them. But before they started their next loop they shared a tender look, and held each other close knowing they would see each other very soon.
Author's note:
Kissy! Finally I am soooo happy to get to write this!
[70,458]
Loops have gradually become shorter and shorter, each bringing with them a painful, yet strangely quick end. Each loop has lasted about 5 hours, and has only gotten more frustrating since the wedding. The wedding loop lasted a week. Their honeymoon lasted 3 days.
'What's going on?' Diavolo knows that this isn't a coincidence. The loop in the infernal chocolate factory lasted 3 months. 'What did we do to ruin what we had going for us?' Somehow, Diavolo knew that the answer lies in their happiness. Diavolo and Jake Paul are in love, and that is Diavolo's truth. But he knows that the terms of his banishment through the gears of time is to never reach the truth. Why, then, was he allowed to reach it?
'Giorno Giovanna… Giorno Giovanna must be ripping me from the truth again. This love is what I deserve. He's… I'll lose Jake…'
A light fixture falls on top of him. A voice can be heard.
"The roof boobies, Joseph. Every damn time."
[Loop Finite]
Doubling over, Jake Paul began to regurgitate the giraffe he had eaten for breakfast. The giraffe, named Gray, used its large, sweaty man-hands to pry Jake's jaw apart. Diavolo watched, helplessly, as Carl Wheezer held him back.
Carl had forced a tiny version of Gray the giraffe down Jake's throat using a shrink ray from the elusive "Jimmy's Mom," and proceeded to try to enlarge it, to explode Jake from the inside. Suddenly, Formaggio fell in from the ceiling, screaming about copyright infringement. Diavolo continued to watch the spectacle, eyes transfixed.
Usually, loops didn't last this long. Not anymore. Jake Paul coughed, the tiny giraffe (mini-Gray) in his esophagus growing larger. Diavolo could feel his eyes starting to tear up, he really should have paid La Squadra more. He jerked his head backwards, hitting Carl Wheezer in the chin and rupturing the vile gremlin's skull.
Carl snarled. All at once, he seemingly began to… shift? What the hell? Carl Wheezer was no more- in his place, stood… Rick Astley. "You know I'm never gonna give you up, Diavolo. I'll never let Jimmy's Mom down." Mr. Astley looked between Diavolo and his lover, shaking his head sadly. "Tragic, really. I'll make you both strangers to love, by erasing your memories!"
Diavolo started to panic. He couldn't lose Jake, he couldn't. "Come on Carl, or whoever you are… You know the rules of this system, and so do I!"
The pinkette surged forward, landing a punch on Mr. Astley's jaw. But things had already begun to slip away. Like the color of Jake Paul's merch- or were they eyes? Maybe orbs?
Rick Astley's face began to disintegrate, and he became a worm on a string.
"HAH, YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE ARMS!" Shouted the man-hands giraffe, who existed and was still in the throat of Jake Paul.
Mr. Astley flopped on the floor uselessly, like a seal amputee. "I'm… I'm never gonna run around again, am I? I've never… I've never deserted you, Diavolo. Why couldn't you love me too?"
Diavolo scoffed, the lice living in his hair twitching. "You're no Jake Pauler."
"Well, look at what you've done- you've made me cry! I never was gonna say goodbye, but… No, no, you don't even deserve the courtesy." Carl spat. Still wearing the face of Rick Astley, the oompa-loopma-worm-on-a-string started to chant. "T-t-t- That's all folks!"
Jake Paul hacked up his tonsils, spitting the newborn-sized version of Gray the giraffe onto the floor. Diavolo caressed Jake in his arms, the other man's dirty blonde hair draped over his beefy bicep. "Shh, shh, it's okay love. You're going to be fine." Diavolo murmured as he slowly ran his thick fingers through Jake's hair.
Jake coughed, blood staining his lips as his throat burned. Tears gathered in Diavolo's eyes. It was as though it was a symphony finale. The final note.
Shakily reaching a hand out, Jake softly caressed Diavolo's face.
"What is it?" Diavolo asked quietly, slowly grabbing onto Jake's hand.
"S-sub to my You-" Jake got cut off by a cough making its way past his throat. His breath slowly staggered as the rising of his chest subsided.
"Sub to my YouTube channel. Like... a-and subscribe. Buy my merch, remember me..."
Fin.
final author's note:
Author's note:
OMG
Lmao, then I kill them both and they get together in heaven because all pretty bois go there right?
I'm so proud of myself for getting this done you guys! It took foreveeeeer, and I had to go back and forth on some of these ideas. Sorry if the writing seems weird, my bff helped me write some of these down! XOXO DOVEY! ples let me know what you think ok? :D