Chapter Text
Diavolo groaned as his eyes glassed over. He only saw blurry figures, people that looked like blurs.
"....You sure....care of him?" The voice came and went from Diavolo's eardrums, almost as if he were underwater.
Wait...he did turn the sink off in his hotel room, right?
"....course I will! .....Am a certified physician, after all..."
That voice...Diavolo swore he heard it somewhere. It was a deep voice that reverberated in his memory....but where did he hear such a voice before?
Before he could wonder any sooner, he felt himself losing consciousness. It felt as if he were being pulled into a dark abyss, where he could hear and see no more.
.........
When Diavolo opened his eyes again, a fluorescent light blinded his view. Cursing under his breath, he flinched away until he was used to its strength. Looking around, he noticed that he appeared to be in some kind of underground concrete basement. He noticed a bookshelf with video tapes stored in it, a desk with a neon green Razer gaming PC on it, and a huge fuzzy microphone hanging down in front of him.
"Is this...somebody's streaming room?" He asked himself quietly. The last thing he remembered was two people talking over him. Wasn't he supposed to get medical treatment? Why the fuck was he in somebody's gaming room?
He tried to get up, but couldn't. Curiously, he picked up his aching head and noticed that he was strapped down to a table. Odd. If somebody wanted to play a videogame with him, they could have just asked.
Suddenly, the door to the room opened with a piercing screech. As soon as the figure stepped in, Diavolo screamed.
"Oh fucking hell! Fuck, not you! Oh my GOD. That fucking pizza man brought me to YOU. Son of a BITCH. Just my fucking luck. I want to make my life better, and I get put with YOU again. You know what? I don't even know why I got associated with you in the first place. All you've ever done is cause my grief and strife. Holy SHIT you are a waste of space. I fucking HATE you. Look at you, you Joker looking motherfucker. Buffalo Bill sounding, Mia Kahlifa REJECT."
For the first time in his torturing career, Cioccolata stood there awkwardly. He was used to having awkward moments when filming his “after hours” programming (now available on your local public broadcasting station!), but this was…different. "...Dude, I didn't even touch you yet," he mumbled under his breath.
Diavolo groaned. "You probably don't even wash your hands afterwards, you Muppet looking ass. You probably don't even wash them at all. Fuck you. Fuck this. Just get me out of here so I can pick up my goddamn pizza."
Secco appeared behind Cioccolata's legs, crouched down like a scared animal. "UNNNGGG IS THIS A BAD TIME?"
Diavolo struggled against the restraints like he was an animal as well. "Oh what do you think, Secco? What other fucking person you guys kidnap wants to pick up their pizza?"
Secco and Cioccolata exchanged glances. This victim...clearly wasn't like the other ones.
"And you know Secco how...?" Cioccolata asked with a look of intrigue.
"I'm your boss you fucking swines," Diavolo answered through gritted teeth. “Remember me? Diavolo?”
Once again, the two horrible people exchanged glances. However this time, a huge smirk were plastered on their faces. They began cracking up at the same time, ignoring Diavolo's anger.
The ex-boss growled and clenched his fists together. "What the FUCK is so funny about that?"
Cioccolata grinned like a madman. "You're not the boss you fucking IDIOT. It's Giorno. I think I’d know the guy that threw me into a fucking dumpster."
"No it's not! It's me! It's me! It's me! It's me! I'M the boss! I'M THE BOOOOOSSSSSS!" Diavolo squirmed like a worm during his temper tantrum. Sweat was beading at his forehead, drenching his face and ruining his mascara again. When he got out of this predicament, he was going to kill this motherfucker. NO ONE makes his mascara ruin twice in one day.
"Dude, I think I'll know the guy that pummeled me to death. It's fucking Giorno. He's the boss of Passione. Don't @ me," Cioccolata snapped.
Secco nodded like a headbanger. "GSHOSHUFH."
"You're damn right he's a lot better than the old one," Cioccolata responded with a nod. "The other guy was a piece of shit."
Diavolo stopped squirming. He blinked once. Twice. Processed what was just said. And then blinked again "...What?"
"Yeah," Cioccolata said. "That other one was a dick. He never used us unless it was 'absolutely necessary'. What the fuck does that mean? You're hiring me, paying me 100k a month, and not using me? I got more as a surgeon. And when we were lucky and got out there, 99% of the time the intended target was a druggie and they died of an overdose. With Giorno getting rid of the drug trade, we can actually, you know, kill people."
Fury was raging within Diavolo. "And...Giorno kept you?"
Cioccolata pulled out his golden Passione badge from his coat pocket and flipped it like it was a coin. "Still got my badge and Polpo still sends us Christmas cards sooooo yeah I guess so."
"UNNNG AND NICER TOO," Secco said.
"But why would you care? You're not boss material," Cioccolata stated matter-of-factly. "I mean look at you, you look like a fucking prostitute."
"FDJHDJHD," Secco added.
"Yeah, yeah you're right, Secco! He does look like that woman in that porno we watched last week. Ah fuck, what was the name of it..."
"Cioccolata, I swear to FUCK if you don't let me out right now, I would donut your fucking spleen," Diavolo growled through clenched teeth. His whole body was shaking with rage. The fact that he was now being treated this way was just as furious as his multiple deaths. Shit just wasn’t going well today.
"...MIA MAFFIA BEING BAD," Cioccolata exclaimed. "That was it!"
"KING CRIMSON." Diavolo called for his stand and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
"Wait wtf," he said. He turned to Cioccolata, demanding to know what the hell he did to his stand with only a glare.
"Oh? How cute Secco, he wants to know where his Princey Red went~" Cioccolata purred with a sadistic smile.
"It's King Crims-"
"I administered a drug via syringe through your veins," Cioccolata explained with a wave of the hand. "This special little treat I gave you suppresses your adrenal glands, which causes your stand to also become suppressed. The affects will last for roughly three hours. When I wasn’t deployed for a hit, I spent my time perfecting my drugs. Which, y’know, is short for me watching Breaking Bad while jerkin’ it. Now shut the fuck up, time to get on with the show."
The show.
The show.
The words rang through Diavolo's eardrums.
Just as he ordered many suspected traitors to fall victim to the mad doctor's scalpel, he was also going to endure the same fate.
However, there was a big difference between the traitors he ordered to be dead and himself. He. Couldn't. Die.
Oh fuck, it was even worse than Giorno's punishment for him. Just giving this guy's satisfaction over and over and over again was enough to drive Diavolo off the walls.
Diavolo inhaled, processing everything that was happening. Shit was happening so fast, he could barely keep up. "You...drugged me," he stated, taking in the information.
"Yeah, I injected you with my peeeee," Cioccolata said happily.
Diavolo shot him a glare, which caused Cioccolata to laugh like a madman.
"You fucking idiot! You actually thought I would be crazy enough to inject my piss inside of a person? What, do you think I have magic piss or something?!" Cioccolata rolled his eyes and went over towards his computer. "Fucking idiot."
Diavolo sighed slightly. At least that was cleared up.
"He totally isn't joking," a voice whispered right next to him. Diavolo jumped and saw Secco with Oasis pulled down past his lips.
"He's that fucking crazy," He whispered. "And yes, that piss is powerful. It almost rivals Mr. Abbachio's."
Diavolo screamed in agony. Secco slightly smiled at this, pulling Oasis up before Cioccolata could notice.
"Hey, like, would you cut it? I gotta check Reddit before the stream," Cioccolata said with a glare.
Diavolo's head shot up. "The stream?! Wait- eww you’re a Redditor."
"Shut the fuck up. And yeah, of course I’m streaming this. Duh," Cioccolata rolled his eyes. "Why else would I have all this streaming shit set up? Y'see, I used to not do live streaming for a while. This was because I thought that people had to be actually alive to do a live stream. I mean, why else would it be called that? However, I found out that you can live stream anything! So, I decide to switch to that now. Plus, I even get donations! It's a win-win if you ask me."
His computer speakers let out a ping! sound. Cioccolata looked towards the screen and smiled.
"Thanks for the Reddit mold, kind stranger!"
Diavolo's heart raced as he saw Secco preparing the camera. There had to be a way out of this!
He tugged at the restraints more. The leather was bound very tightly, almost to the point of cutting his circulation at his wrists and ankles. He tried his best to summon King Crimson again, but he still couldn't do it. It was as if he had erectile dysfunction, but with his stand. Standtile dysfunction? Is that a thing? Well it is now. I'm the author, and I get to choose the lore!
"Ah fuck, here we go," Cioccolata said with a groan as he got up from his computer chair. He gave Secco a hand signal and the cladded man nodded, pointing the camera at Cioccolata.
"What is GOOD my lovelies?!" Cioccolata exclaimed in that stereotypical YouTuber voice. "I am BACK with another livestream, sisters! Today we have a very angry little scamp with us today, claiming to be the former Don of Passione-"
Secco couldn't hide his snicker from behind the camera, and it cut into Cioccolata's audio.
"...don't want another situation like last time. Absolutely NO raiders," he continued.
Diavolo's mind raced, blocking out what Cioccolata had to say. Unless he communicated with the people watching the stream, he knew he was up the creek without a paddle. If he could somehow stall the duo, maybe somebody watching would get help!
He looked around. Where was he, exactly? The basement didn't have any windows, so he couldn't tell where he was, or what the time even was. He strained his ears, but he really couldn't hear the outside world at all. That meant one of two things; either the basement was soundproof, or they were really that far under the ground.
He looked at the computer screen. What were the people watching saying in the chat? Luckily, his vision was really good and he could see the screen. Maybe they could help him!
McQueenWantsToMcDie: God I wish I was the one dying next.
Ringo_RoadAgain_And_Again_And_Again: What. is A Computer
OKyasu: I don't know who this doctor guy is but he looks like he's made of BROCCOLI hahahahaha
"I'm going to fucking die," Diavolo mumbled.
Cioccolata shot daggers at him. "Shut the FUCK up when I'm doing my intro, 'boss'. This is important. …Ah fuck, where was I…uh…”
Secco seemed to foam at the mouth. “UGHHG UGRRRH DFKDJSDLFDSIO,”
Cioccolata gasped. “That’s right! The overview of the procedure for the day. Good boy Secco! GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD-”
Diavolo tried very hard to drain out Cioccolata’s voice. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard whenever he praised Secco and it felt as if knives were being inserted into his brain. He figured that the next best thing to do was to mouth out a plea to the chat. Cicoccolata seemed to be busy with his “overview” instead of paying attention to him splayed out on the table like a tuna at a fish market, so he could probably get away with it.
He contorted his lips to mouth out the words “help me”, but he was quickly losing his patience. He hadn’t moved his mouth this much since the last Diavalen fic he was in, which means that other AO3 authors need to write more of the ship so they can save the poor man L. He decided to listen in once more on the doctor’s horrible intro, just to find any context on what he was going to do with him.
“…I’ll probably be removing the frontal lobe if he has one, probably,” the broccoli man said with a small frown. “But that’s seriously debatable, since he’s stupid as fuck.”
Diavolo growled, fighting against the restraints once more. He knew that Cioccolata didn’t have much respect for him, even when he was the Don, but this was too much for him to handle. “Listen you dense motherfucker-”
“Shhhhuuuuutttt thhhheeee fuuuuuuuccckkk uuuuuppp oooohhh mmmmmyyyy GGGGGooooood,” Cioccolata whined. “I’m never gonna get through the damn intro because you just complain and whine! Seriously, Sorbet and Gelato weren’t even this bad, so just calm your nuts.”
“H-Heey Cioccolaaataaa, there’s an i-idea!” Secco sputtered out, actual English this time. At every single syllable, it looked as if his face was twitching out in pain just from speaking. “L-Let’s c-cut his nuts!”
Horror seemed to send shockwaves down the ex-Don’s body. Did he really just say that? Cut his jewels?! “N-NO! A-Anything but that, please!” It even hurt to plead to the man, but what other option did he have?
The ex-surgeon pursed his lips. He leaned against his computer desk, drumming his fingers on it. “That’s…a possibility. But I’m not sure if I like it. You see, the market is pretty good on testis. Shit, there’s so much testis for sale, you’d think it’s a daycare.”
Diavolo never really knew what happened to Cioccolata’s victims after one of his America’s Funniest Home videos, but now he kind of had an answer. Selling body parts on the black market. His scrunched his nose. How disgusting. It still shook him to the core that there was more disgusting things about the former guard that he had no idea of.
“Now a vasectomy…now that makes for good content. Haven’t done one of those babies in a while.” Cioccolata’s green eyes lit up with glee. Smiling, he stood up from his leaning position and clasped his hands together. “Congratulations Mr. Mafioso, you just won yourself a vasectomy.”
What?! Diavolo thought. What the fuck was a vasectomy? Why the fuck was this bitch so happy about the most horrible things? Is he going to at least wash his hands before doing the-
Oh who am I kidding? We all know that bitch never washed his hands in his lifetime.
Cioccolata snapped his fingers. “Secco, the informatics chart.”
Neighing like a horse, the mud puppy scampered off into the dark, unseen corners of the room. A few seconds later, he wheeled in a diagram in Diavolo’s line of sight.
“Take time to read the chart, please,” the ex-doctor said as he began to put on his face mask. “Or don’t. I really don’t give a shit, but the author needs to put in some more jokes.”
Shaking with fear, Diavolo turned his head to look at the chart.
Injured?
It’s your fault, you fucking dumbass!
Read these frequently asked questions to get a better understanding for your doctor visit <3
Q: Why are you doing this to me, Dr. Cioccolata?
A: Because I can, you silly little bimbo! I am employed to a jackass boss, and normally, what he says goes. However, I sometimes choose victims for myself because daddy needs to be quenched too! Don’t take it personally dear, you were a loser before you encountered me, and you will die a loser :D
Q: Will it hurt?
A: Lol what the fuck do YOU think??? O_o
Q: Is this covered by my insurance?
A: Why, yes! I may be a soulless son of a bitch, but I’m not ALL monster. I accept all insurances so you will have no financial burden :3
Q: Why strap me down for my procedure today?
A: It’s a kink
Q: What’s with the…dog thing?
A: Again, kink
Q: Will I get a lollipop if I am a good patient today?
A: OF FUCKING COURSE YOU DO
“Jesus Christ you’re insane,” Diavolo said as he began to hyperventilate. “You’re fucking insane.”
“Well if you didn’t want the lollipop, you could have just said so,” Cioccolata said, visibly hurt that Diavolo did not appreciate his chart. “You know what? Just for that, I’m not taking your insurance. A $20 vasectomy for you bitch!”
Diavolo blinked the sweat from his eyes. “W-What the fuck is a vasectomy?!”
Secco, giggling in the background, made a scissor motion with his hands. “SNIPPY BALLY.”
“Well that would have been beneficial fifteen years ago,” Diavolo muttered with an eye roll.
A scalpel dropped on the floor, the metal clanging in silence. Cioccolata was staring at Diavolo with shock. “Hold. The. Fucking. Phone. You’re a father?”
Relief was coming towards the former mob boss. He changed the subject. That’s good. That’s good. He won’t have Cioccolata anywhere near his genitals now. Maybe somebody on the stream is already in contact with the police right now and help would be on the way.
“Yes, her name is Trish Una. She lives in Naples with Giorno and the other idiots. You could probably get a whole scene with her,” Diavolo said. “I can already imagine it. Okay, so, follow me here, alright? Picture this. You kidnap Trish, make her say, ah, I dunno… some sort of ransom shit. Then Giorno, the brave hero, comes over…and BAM. You sic’ him with Green Day and kill Trish for the fun of it.” Diavolo was smiling widely. “I know it’s right up your alley, doc. Plus, you get to see Giorno suffer. Isn’t that your heart’s desire?”
Once again, Cioccolata and Secco exchanged glances for a moment, both looking at the other with concern.
Finally, Cioccolata began to speak. He cleared his throat, and squatted so he was eye level with Diavolo. “Now, I uh, really don’t know how to say this. I know I’m not some beacon of morality that everyone has to follow, but… you are one fucked up piece of shit.”
Diavolo backed his head away from the doctor in fear. “W-What do you mean? This is what you wanted, right?”
In all the years Cioccolata worked for Diavolo, Diavolo never saw him so…angry. He was biting the inside of his cheek while looking at him with disgust, as if he was roadkill. Even Secco, the one voluntarily dressed up like a gimp, looked as if Diavolo was the most pathetic being in the room.
“That little girl is your daughter and you want me, the man you claim to have work relations with, to kill her?” Even though Cioccolata asked a question, it felt more like a statement. Like it was an actual scalpel twisting into Diavolo’s body rather than the one on the floor. “I…have no words. Not only are you a lying piece of shit, but you’re a deplorable piece of shit. Now I haven’t had my father in my life for long, but he did everything in his power to make sure that I was well taken care of, and I appreciate that every day. I think what I am doing today is more of a public service rather than the usual act of sexual deviancy that I normally go for. People like you shouldn’t exist in this world. No…I shouldn’t even refer to you as a person. You are just trash.”
Secco was smirking behind the camera, the little shit. His smile was as wide as his entire face, and he was loving every moment of this.
Diavolo gulped. “W-Wait, I-I didn’t mean it like that-”
Cioccolata didn’t speak. He didn’t have the patience to deal with this fucker anymore. In fact, he just wanted to get this done and over with so the cleanup won’t take as long. He turned towards his array of tools and chose the most disturbing one for the $20 vasectomy- a rusted bone saw.
As soon as Diavolo saw the grimy saw, he began to twist and panic in his restraints. Now he really fucked up. He had to get out of this somehow, someway he had to get out of here!
Boss?
Boss! Are you there?! The juvenile voice echoed in his head. I’m coming to help you, boss!
Oh no! Doppio! Not now!
“Doppio, don’t come to get me!” He cried out. “You’ll get yourself killed! You need to-”
Suddenly, there was a loud BANG, as if the Earth imploded in on itself. Dust seemed to fill the area, leaving Secco to cough while waving the debris away for that one perfect shot.
Cioccolata looked up. “What the-”
“GET DOWN!” A voice boomed while bullets shot through the air.
“OH FUCK!” Cioccolata coughed out. “SECCO, WE’VE BEEN SWATTED! AGAIN! GODDAM IT, MOTHERFUCKING GIORNO, AFTER I SAVED HIS ASS-”
Diavolo felt lost. In fact, he wasn’t even there now. It was Doppio. Sweet, tiny Doppio, in the middle of a swatting.
“W-What?” Doppio slipped his tiny wrists and ankles from the restraint easily. “Boss, where-”
JUST GET THE FUCK OUT, DOPPIO! RUN. The boss’s voice echoed in Doppio’s head. Doppio must’ve dropped his phone someplace in this mess.
He could get a phone later. Right now it was time to move.
Doppio easily maneuvered past the Swat team and rushed up the stairs. He paid no attention to Cioccolata’s swag interior design as he opened the door. Sunlight seemed to burn his retinas as he raced out of the house and into the sidewalk. His whole body felt like a thousand pounds and he was really tired…for some reason.
Not looking at where he was going, he bumped into somebody’s firm chest.
“Hey, watch where you’re- oh shit, Doppio!” A voice called. “Hey, you alright?”
Doppio tried to talk, but no words came out. He tried to focus on whoever knew him, but he stumbled on his own feet like a drunkard.
“Woah, easy bud,” another voice said as they caught him before he fell. “Tiz, I don’t think he looks so good…”
The person…(Tiziano?) nodded. “Yeah, we should get him someplace safe.”
“W-Wait…” Doppio mumbled. “T-The bo…”
Doppio’s eyes fluttered shut before he could even finish what he was saying. He tried to call out to anyone for help, especially the boss.
But all he got was darkness.