Things aren't looking good for our boy
It's a bit edgy, but it's unavoidable. I can't treat it like he just let out a fart in a crowded escalator
Let's get rid of that stigma that edgy=bad, mkay. Read it with an objective mind, is all i ask
And know that, despite his shitty situation, there's only one way from rock bottom
Quit Staring at Me, That's Rude
〖Interlude〗
⦕ Don't Look at Me ⦖
A whirlwind of emotions tore through Issei's mind. A storm of dilemmas whipping up inside him, tearing him out.
The weight of his inexperience weighed heavily on him. He had barely dipped his toes into the unfamiliar and perilous waters of this supernatural realm. The unfamiliar and perilous waters of this new realm had barely grazed his consciousness, and yet, here he stood, drowning. His friends, Rias and the other Devils, all had placed their trust in him, welcoming him, and Issei was deathly afraid of what they would think of him now, after the atrocities he had unwittingly committed while under the entity's sinister influence.
What would Roygun think? She had forgiven him, but that didn't change the fact that he had lost control and caused all these avoidable injuries. And her eye— oh gods her eye… was it him that tore it out? Of course it had to be him… Who else?
The idea of running away, of escaping the consequences of his actions, surged through his thoughts like a banshee's scream. He couldn't deny the thought of fleeing, of running away from the harrowing consequences of his actions. They tugged at his thoughts, whispering sweet temptations. He couldn't be anywhere near anyone. Let alone the people he cared about. His parents, his friends, Matsuda, Motohama— he couldn't bear the thought of becoming a walking time bomb.
But deep down, he knew that running away wouldn't fix anything. Just a temporary solution. An invitation for more carnage. As long as those creatures he had within him stayed there, he'd only carry them along wherever he went.
But what now? Should he accept the inevitable, resigning himself to whatever punishment loomed on the horizon? Or should he summon the courage to confront the monster within, to regain control over his own body? But how could he be sure that he wouldn't lose control again? The turmoil within him was relentless, a tempest of guilt, fear, and uncertainty that threatened to engulf him completely. Roygun's unmoving, bloodied and battered body haunted him as a gruesome reminder of the irreversible consequences of his actions.
Her blood was in his hands.
"What do I do…?"
"L-Lady Belphegor! Get away from her you monster!"
Amidst the chaos, a squadron of Devils arrived at the scene, descending upon Issei with an air of accusation. Their voices rang out with condemnation as they apprehended him. Completely shell-shocked, Issei remained in stunned silence, unable to offer any resistance as they roughly chained him with magical spells, binding his hands and legs. His eyes remained wide open, unblinking, like they were searching for answers in this destroyed classroom.
"We're losing her!" one of the Devils, Souji Okita, cried out in desperation as he checked Roygun's pulse. "We can't heal her here. Get her to the medical ward, ASAP!"
Issei desperately begged for Roygun's survival, though not to absolve his guilt. Anyone shouldn't pay for his actions with their life.
"R-Roygun…!" It was Rias' voice, and as she arrived, she gasped in shock and horror. Her emotions flickered across her face. She stared at Issei, her gaze filled with a heartbreaking mix of fear and disbelief. "Hyoudou… no…"
Issei caught her horrified look, and it was as if a jagged dagger had pierced him. His worst fear had come to life. A friend he had admired now regarded him with fear and suspicion. He questioned if he was the monster, but now he felt like he was.
He had never known the extent of his own danger. How could he have known? It was never his intention to hurt anyone. He had been so careful with his ocular powers, keeping his emotions in check. He had no idea of the potential danger he posed. He had embarked on this journey of the supernatural world out of an innocent, human desire to understand, to unravel the mysteries of his existence, to discover what he truly was.
And look at where his curiosity had led him.
"I'm sorry," Issei managed to whisper, his voice a feeble echo in the midst of the chaos and the shouting. He kept his eyes shut, afraid his turbulent emotions might cause his power to spark. "I'm so sorry… I'm sorry…"
His words echoed like a lament of a shattered soul, a mournful confession that reverberated deeply within Rias's heart. She knew him enough to know she couldn't just ignore the tragedy that had befallen him. She knew him to be a kind, gentle soul, despite his naivety. He had shown kindness to Koneko, helping her embrace her powers instead of cowering in fear—when Rias herself had failed.
When the reinforcements arrived, Koneko was the one to beg Rias to see him, to see if the friend they knew was still there. Now, she knew he still remained. Only more severely traumatized.
Her heart bled for this young man, for the tragic turn his life had taken. Rias vowed to help him, to protect both him and those around him. For now, containment was necessary for their safety, but she swore to find a way to guide him. This world and hers needed more people like him. No one should live a life of fear of their own self.
The Beast in him was the true danger. Hyoudou Issei was not. She doubted he would harm a fly.
Summoning every ounce of her resolve, Rias brushed aside the harrowing images of Roygun's injuries, her unwavering faith in the professional Devils' ability to save her compatriot lending her the conviction she needed. Rias dashed out of the classroom, her crimson hair flowing behind her like a blazing banner, and swiftly reached Issei before he was taken away.
"L-Lady Rias! You mustn't—" one of the attending Devils began, their voice a mix of caution and concern.
"I know what I'm doing," Rias stated firmly, her unwavering resolve clear. "Just a brief word. He's my friend."
The other Devils glanced at each other, ultimately deferring to her authority as Satan's little sister, a testament to the reverence and respect they held for her brother.
For Sirzechs Lucifer, not Rias Gremory. But she didn't mind. Not right now.
Positioning herself before Issei, Rias couldn't help but feel her heartache as she confronted the young man's state of self-pity and confusion. She pressed on, determined to reach him.
"Look at me, Hyoudou," she muttered, her voice carrying a potent blend of firmness and compassion.
IssIssei shook his head adamantly, his gaze still fixed downward.
"Hyoudou," she repeated, her voice unwavering, her compassion evident. "Look at me."
"No!" Issei cried out, his voice breaking this time. "No…! You saw what I did—what I did to Roygun. Don't let me do that to you… I don't even know what I am anymore…"
Rias ached as she watched him grapple with his self-loathing. The stark contrast between the lively, cheerful Issei she had known and the shattered, remorseful soul before her was heartrending.
Yet, Rias was determined to kindle the dwindling ember of hope within him. She knew she had to act, to ensure that he didn't succumb to despair.
"I know you won't hurt me."
"You don't know that…! No one knows—" Issei protested, his voice a tormented cry. "I didn't even know that…goddammit— just… just don't…"
A quivering sob cut his sentence.
"Stop looking at me…"
Rias, without realizing, clenched her fist. She would not allow his ember to extinguish.
Unwilling to give up, she leaned in closer, her voice a gentle whisper. "I gave you my promise, Hyoudou…" Her words hung in the air, a lifeline she hoped he would grasp onto. "...Issei. Don't worry, Issei. Trust me. I'm not leaving you. We'll get you through this. Roygun will recover, and so will you. I only ask that you have faith in me. And then, we'll get back to our club activities. We still have a summer vacation ahead of us. You, and all of us together."
With a trembling resolve, Issei finally raised his head to meet her gaze. His brown eyes, once brimming with vitality and warmth, now held the visage of a broken soul, a stark testament to the weight of his guilt and regret.
But through her words, upon seeing the sincerity in her eyes, at the tears threatening to spill out, Issei found a fragile glimmer of hope. A lifeline.
"Th…" he choked, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions, before he wept uncontrollably, his sobs tearing through the heavy silence. Each sob seemed to release some of the torment that had gripped him. "Thank you…! …Thank you…"
"...I promise. You'll be alright, Issei," Rias whispered, her voice carrying the weight of her commitment, her own tears falling. Then she nodded to the Devils, gratitude gleaming in her eyes. "Thank you, and my apologies for the intrusion."
"No worries, Lady Rias," one of them said with empathy. "We'll… make sure he won't be treated harshly. Evidently, it seems like he isn't entirely to blame."
Rias sighed. "...He isn't."
"Gotta wonder though, what's got in him?"
"Zip it. No questions. If you'll excuse us, Lady Rias."
Rias nodded and stepped away, her eyes lingering on his back, unable to imagine the burden he had to shoulder. What kind of twisted soul stuck Trihexa in this kind boy? She couldn't help but ask, disgusted by his cruel fate.
As Rias sighed, Issei was carried away. Her words had indeed reached him, leaving something for him to cling on, to keep him falling into a bottomless pit. Rias heard his sobs down the corridor, aware of the overwhelming emotions that consumed him. Despite everything, there was still someone that could care for him.
Break
Hidden deep within the turbulent recesses of his consciousness, the ea of void was parted by a sinister smile, twisting itself upon the lips of the "woman" who inhabited Issei's inner world. She derived sadistic pleasure from the relentless torment inflicted upon her unwitting host, in spite of it all. In the least expected places, even pleasure could be found, no matter twisted and vile.
While Discordia, her fellow Head and the avatar of Wrath, had been quelled by Issei's indomitable will, it came as no surprise to her. After all, the young man's innate kindness had been destined to conquer Wrath's fiery tempest. Only a matter of time indeed.
As one of the notorious Heads of The Beast, Trihexa, she was intimately acquainted with the very essence of depravity and sin that had given birth to her existence. She had sprung forth from the collective transgressions of humanity, fallen angels, vampires, yokai, and even a spangle of angels who had once misconstrued their anger as divine righteousness. Their shared purpose was simple—to carry out Judgment upon those they deemed impure and sinful. To bring Apocalypse. To give Creation its fitting End.
It had all been part of God's grand design, after all. They were simply fulfilling their intended duty.
The Creation had grown increasingly corrupt, and their judgment had been nothing short of a righteous purge. But that wishy-washy so-called All-Knowing being regretted The Beast' creation, and of course it was during their time to deliver the Apocalypse. Just moments before the Great War ended in its disappointingly stale stalemate.
But Yahweh had chosen to seal away the very abominable entities HE Himself had willed into existence. To His credit, the Almighty Seal had endured. Even long after His untimely demise in the Great War. However, as all were meant to erode with the passage of Time, so did His once-impenetrable seal. The tiny crack was enough to grant Trihexa's malevolent soul the freedom to roam, an eternal quest in pursuit of the perfect vessel. A vessel that would embody the precise amalgamation of qualities required to unlock a fraction of its formidable power.
Enter Hyoudou Issei, originally fated to host the soul of the Red Dragon Emperor, Ddraig Goch. However, due to a fortuitous glitch in the Sacred Gear System—an intricate web once maintained by the Abrahamic God, but later desperately overseen by the Archangel Michael and a smattering of surviving Seraphs following the Great War—Issei had been thrust into an unforeseen destiny.
However, fate had a peculiar twist in store, yes, even The Beast wasn't immune to its spindly threads. Anyone who had evolved their own Individuality.
The Heads of Trihexa had not all converged upon a single host. Driven by their inherent rebelliousness, perhaps born from their new found individuality, some Heads had embarked on a quest for alternative vessels better suited to harness their potent powers and Sin. Four, at least, didn't stray from their original goal—Issei's soul, and had firmly nestled themselves within him, dormant.
Wrath, once Discordia, had been banished. She was likely fuming as she found herself confined within Trihexa's original body—a bitter twist of fate for her.
Envy, shrouded in the shadows, remained hidden, a sinister presence biding its time.
Pride, ironically trapped within unyielding chains, struggled to assert itself within the context of Issei's humble nature.
As Issei slumbered soundly, resting upon her lap, a smile played upon her tantalizing lips. "Sleep tight, my darling," she whispered in a voice as alluring as a siren's song, her violet eyes locked upon his anguished look. "This is hardly the beginning..."
A soft, sultry chuckle escaped my lips, a sound as captivating as it was sinister. For once, Issei slept undisturbed, free from the nightmares that haunted his waking world, even if he was confined to a luxurious prison in reality. A well-furnished cage, perhaps, but a prison nonetheless.
The last Head? Well, it is of course Lust.
Yours truly.
Although rather than the base impulses associated with my essence, call me Lyzandra. Or Lyz or Lizzy for short. How so very quirky of me, hm?
But of course, you may call me anything you desire—better yet, insult me, call me names. Please. Ah! Even better—slap me as you call me names. You know you want to do it; you only haven't had the opportunity to relish in good old violence because there's no one willing to be on the receiving end.
Well, I nominate myself as tribute.
Come… hit me with all you got. I can take it, my dear. Please oh please… hit me.
But I jest… Pardon my twisted sense of humor.
Partially joking, at the least. I can be quite the slut for insults and a whore for harsh treatments.
You'd be surprised by the softness of his hair. Stroking it feels... hmmm… appetizing, to say the least. Calming. Somewhat. Like stroking a pet.
I'm motherly? Oh please. I am anything but. Although, feel free to call me mommy. Would you like to be pampered?
Ah. I got distracted again. My apologies. Hard to keep my sanity in check when I am always so aroused with no relief in sight… Such a pity, won't you agree? But lucky me, this girl Rias seems to have unchained some of my restraints. All in the name of giving him hope...
This poor thing… tut tut…
Although I'm more interested in ravishing that Akeno girl-it is very satisfying in turning a sadist into a mewling masochist-I must say the Gremory herself holds quite the potential. Her Pride currently overwhelms her Lust... for now. While her Pride may puff itself up like a grand façade, it is the insatiable fires of Lust that ultimately strip her naked. For Desire is the true architect of humbling downfall.
It is up to her to either defy it or embrace in it, preferably drown in it. I, for one, truly hope it is the latter. I'm sure you would agree, or at least see my point. Don't be mean now.
Speaking of potential, who knows that beneath the surface of his concealed emotions, there lies an untapped force lay dormant, chained merely by his resolve, poised to shape the very fabric of fate, whether for benevolence or malevolence.
Truth be told, I care very little for the path this dear Vessel of mine might choose. Right or wrong, virtue or vice, these distinctions hold no sway over my desires. I revel in the vast spectrum of human experiences, from the purest ecstasy to the darkest indulgences... Pleasures, after all, can be discovered in every corner of existence—mostly on and under the But I'm not the Head known to be picky. I can be quite submissive.
Ah, he's mumbling in his sleep. How adorable... To see a gentle soul like him being twisted in pain is... ah… forgive me for shuddering. It is simply a sensation I cannot ever hope to describe. Something you must allow to feel.
But for now at least, let's allow him to rest. Let's say that he has 'earned' it.
And with that in mind— my darling readers… allow me to bid our goodbye with a wink and the shushing of my lips— "Hush now. He's sleeping."
To be continued…
A bit short, but that's what interludes are for. Think I revealed enough
Thank you for the support! It's very cool . i hope u think my stories r pr cool. You know what else is cool? Me.
Wait, i mean you.
And of course, reviews. Review it. Seriously. Let me know what you think of being suddenly addressed by Lizzy. it's something i've never tried before. won't do it occasionally though, as i know it's 'breaking muh immersion'. but she is fun to write. a true S&M.