My Self - Insert Stash

-Another DxD SI Fic~ I'm starting to run out of SI fics, it would be really helpful if you guys can comment some recommendations!

*I won't be posting as much after we reach 100 fics, just 1-3 suggestions per day, I'm honestly happy there's more Male SIs now, back then on FFnet there weren't as much of them, it was just filled with Female SIs in Naruto not that I have anything against females in general I just can't relate to them, it's just not for me.

*SI as Riser Phenex~ Make sure to have an account as it's on Questionable Questing!

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 40K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/winging-it-dxd-riser-si.10105/#post-2754974 (Much Too Desensitized)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1+2

Did you know that being reincarnated with your mind and all your memories intact from the beginning was a huge pain in the ass? I mean, it was a hardly a unique complaint to hear from anyone even moderately familiar with isekai, being just another attempt from amateurish authors at trying to be unique by not making the transition entirely pleasant so readers don't think it will be a thinly veiled self-insert getting all the girls and power. Well, even if I'm now a Devil thanks to my particular circ.u.mstances, I'd like to think I am a fairly honest individual, so I won't bullshit you: I am a complete chick magnet, am the absolute strongest in the world I found myself in, and an utter badass.

... Okay, I can't actually say that with a straight face.

Regardless, I digress. Having to be aware throughout the first years of my second life had been absolutely torturous. Why? Well, let's suppose you had had the fortune of being in complete control of your faculties. You know, able to walk, talk, and all those little things you take for granted. Now, suppose, you became a newborn baby, with all that implied. If the thought sufficiently horrifies you, congratulations! You are keenly aware of just how much it sucks to not be able to such things as being able to actually use a restroom.

There had been talk about how I was fast learner by learning to walk and use the potty by the age of two. Keeping track of time was another one of those difficult things to do as an infant, and so once it sunk in it had taken me two years to regain a modic.u.m of dignity? My response was to nearly cry.

It was fine, though. Getting over the trauma had been as simple as letting time heal the wound as I filled my days with all the shit I could now do as an actually mobile individual. Namely, actually getting around to learning about the world I had found myself in, where I had promptly asked one of the servants of the estate to get me some water just so I could perform my obligatory spit-take once I figured. I suppose I should have perhaps gotten the hint once I had pieced together that my name here was Riser Phenex, and I was a Devil.

Then again, I'd never been the brightest bulb in the bunch. Though that much should have been obvious given my general decision making and training methods.

"Three hundred forty-seven..." I wheezed out, pushing myself back up. Counting aloud wasn't necessary, but it served as both an ego boost whenever the numbers got large enough, and made it much easier to keep track despite the aches and pains throughout my body. "Three hundred forty-eight..."

Now, you might be wondering a few things. Assuming you have no idea how it was physically possible for an eight year old to do that many push-ups without lying through his teeth, I'll restate that I'm a literal Devil with the addendum that the world I lived was exactly like what I remembered from a Shōnen setting. Training from Hell- well, in Hell in this case, was a tried and true method of getting stronger. There were no real limits on what you could achieve so long as you pushed yourself.

Now, for the others that wondered why I was doing something like physical training when I could be learning magic and doing awesome shit with reality bending powers...

That was a much more complex explanation, but it basically boiled down to one thing: I wanted to get as strong as possible as fast as possible, and my power leant itself towards gaining physical strength.

See, as a Phenex, there were three things I was naturally good at doing with my Demonic Power: controlling fire, controlling wind, and regeneration. This is part where others would probably point out I could be a pyromaniac of epic proportions, which was doubtlessly a better path to take. While the point was a valid one, I'll just say I want to be swole.

"Four... hundred!" I squeezed out.

Flopping to the ground a moment later, I rested my cheek on the barren ground that was signature of much Hell. It was blissfully cool against my skin, but there was no time for that. Directing my power, I healed my arms just enough to take the edge off and not be useless jelly.

I'd done the same thing while exercising, protracting out just how long I could keep going, and how I reached a number like four hundred. While it was hardly comfortable to just heal myself piecemeal after reaching a point of having simply done too much, it did mean I created more muscle tears, and thus strengthened them more than I would have done if I'd completely regenerated the damage and started over. Or so that was the logic I applied, as I didn't actually know if it provided greater results considering I was an inherently magical creature.

With a grunt, I got to my feet. Right, that rep was done, and I felt my Demonic Power was down to its last dregs. That meant that this would be my last round, as I'd be dropping in exhaustion somewhere in the middle of it. All in all, my routine served as a good method to simultaneously train my physical strength, power capacity, and regeneration ability.

Of course, I'd have to look into another method of increasing my capacity once I could train the whole day nonstop.

Nodding to myself, I started my run.

—​

My father gave me a strange look. "You want what?"

"Holy water," I repeated, making sure I said the words clearly. "I would like to have a supply holy water."

Drexel Phenex set down his pen as he considered my request. "While it should not be hard to acquire, I must ask why you would want such a thing."

"Self-mutilation." There was a stretch of silence as my father simply stared at me. "For training purposes," I added.

"Riser," he sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know you like to speak obtusely, and I can only guess where you got the habit from, but please explain properly when you make a request from me. You are asking me not only as Lord Phenex, but your father. So, I will ask again: why do you want holy water?"

Scratching at my cheek, I glanced to the side, considering my words before looking at him again. "I would like holy water to train," I began. "It's a weakness I possess as not only as a Devil, but as a Phenex given that I have been told it stalls our regeneration. I was thinking that perhaps exposing myself to it repeatedly could help me grow a resistance or even immunity to it."

He quirked an eyebrow. "You are aware of what the effects of holy water our to us Devils, yes?"

"It is corrosive and poisonous," I answered with a nod.

"And you would undergo that damage repeatedly, willingly, for this… training of yours?"

I nodded again.

"I see." Father stayed quiet as he contemplated my words, before eventually giving a small nod of his own. "Very well, I'll grant your request. However, only under the condition that every time you subject yourself to the damage you are under the supervision I approve of, and that it be applied to you in certain amounts."

Blinking, I considered his demands. So he just wanted to make sure I was always watched my someone he could trust when I was exposing myself to something that could kill me in sufficient quantities, but limited just how much I was exposed to?

"Thanks, Dad!" I agreed with a grin.

He simply shook his head slowly with a faintly amused smile. "You are such an odd child."

"Of course," I waved off. "If I'm not odd, there's no way I'll achieve my dream."

"Hmm? And what would that be?"

I cupped my chin in thought. "Well, I'm a bit undecided, but I'm fairly certain I want to marry either Serafall Leviathan or the Infinite Dragon God."

There was a brief pause before he started laughing.

"Hey! I'm being serious!"

That got him to laugh harder.

Rude. I really was serious

Chapter 2

Time had a tendency to pass remarkably quickly, in my view. I suppose that made sense, considering there was so much alike in each day that they just blended together; Sunday to Friday were training days, Saturday was my rest and relaxation time.

Unfortunately, there were things that came with time. Generally the complaint was responsibilities or losing the spryness of youth, but as a spoiled brat who had an expected lifespan in the five digits? Those were not my concerns. Oh no, my concern was far worse.

My concern was a hated thing I feared to utter the name of lest I call its attention to me: Puberty.

It was composed of seven letters, just as there were seven deadly sins. Coincidence? I think not.

All too soon I knew it had come upon me, as the years without libido and l.u.s.ty thoughts made it quite apparent when they returned. Honestly, it was kind of horrifying in a weird way. It was probably an idle thought people have every once in a while: how much time do I spent thinking about s.e.x?

The answer is actually quite a bit. Plus, it's super distracting.

For example, it was kind of hard not to look at my combat teacher's b.r.e.a.s.ts, moving as they were in her sports bra, so my brain could only absently question why her fist was getting bigger. Until it hit me, that is. Or when I noticed that she was very flexible indeed, if she could raise her leg that high. But while things did rise in response, said leg came crashing down.

In short, I had a growing vendetta against my training instructor's wardrobe and wondered why the hell things were so tight and showed so much skin. Also, I was beginning to wonder if my older brother was a pervert, as even if Devils were generally not unattractive given we were natural shapeshifters, his Rook was really quite beautiful. Still, I was a bigger person than that, and chalked it up as a win seeing as I was already slowly learning to avoid getting distracted by the s.e.xy. Very slowly, admittedly.

Sadly, that was not the worse part of puberty. No, rather, that was social aspect of my life.

In the wise words of a con man—the only absolute is money, for it is replaceable and can replace anything. Given that the Phenex family was capable of producing extremely potent healing medicine of no small demand and its status as one of the 72 Pillars, it was no lie to call me rich. Like, rich enough that it honestly was a superpower of its own.

In short, so long as it was in the realm of reason - and sometimes a bit beyond even that - I could purchase just about anything. Why was this relevant? Well, it came with downsides as well. Being part of an upper class family meant there were certain expectations of me.

One of those was that I was required to attend certain events and have playdates with other children around my age. As anyone who had been through the torture that is being a volatile chemical c.o.c.ktail in the shape of a human, you should know why a second run through was absolutely terrible.

There was nothing lovely about teenagers. Acne-ridden, hormone-driven, angst-peddling, holier-than-thou, world-revolves-around-me, teenagers.

S.e.x? If the topic didn't come up, there was something suspicious going on. Self-aggrandizement? They had to find some sense of self-worth somewhere, so obviously. Generally that had to do it via insulting another person, too, so I'd heard my fair share of 'subtle' jabs at my reputation for being the weakest Devil of our generation and my general weirdness.

Thankfully, my playdates were, as said, around my age. Sometimes I got lucky and had the chance to meet those younger than me, untouched by the vile grasp of my enemy.

Such was why I began to carry candy on me at all times when I was told I would be meeting a peer. Being terrible with words was one thing, but I could still ruthlessly exploit my playmates young minds by cheering them up or positively reinforcing them by giving them a sweet. I did need to be mindful to not do it too often, otherwise the effect diminished.

In other words, I was actually an a.d.u.l.t who gave candy to kids to get them to like me.

I suppose I should be happy my soul was already damned?

Regardless, I had been reigned into yet another playdate, and such was why I found myself meeting the gaze of a girl five years younger than me. There was a stretch of silence as both of us waited for the other to make the first move.

"It's a p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e to meet you," the seven year old finally said, making a curtsey.

As for me, I just glanced over at my mother, standing off to the side with Lady Sitri. She gave me a stern look, and I knew there was really no way for me to get out of this. Turning back, I stepped forward and took a step forward and brought up one of her hands to kiss the back of it.

"The p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e is mine," I returned.

Internally, I was just groaning at the formality of it all. Another thing expected of me as a member of a powerful family was knowing how to 'behave in a gentlemanly way,' which really just meant I needed to know all the superfluous etiquette of high society.

My retorts are the following: why in the f.u.c.k do you need meals with up to eleven courses? Are you trying to f.u.c.k.i.n.g starve people in the most sadistic way possible by not only stretching the length of the meal, but barely feeding them each course? What possible purpose is there in having so many types of utensils? If I want to eat desert, I can damn well use the same fork I ate my salad and meat with!

And that was only getting into a subset of the European version of etiquette! I'd been made to learn the damn works.

Honestly, I felt an immense amount of pity as I looked at Sona. I wasn't even the heir, being the third child, and that was still considered essential skills for me. I could only imagine the various other things the girl was also going to be forced to learn.

Glancing again at my mother, I decided it would probably be best to stop monologuing to myself and just do as was expected of me.

"So, I hear you are a fan of chess."

The girl nodded. "That I am."

"I've never really possessed the time to play much of it myself," I admitted. "But now seems a good opportunity, if you would care to play?"

"Certainly," Sona answered with a polite smile. Underneath it, however, I was certain she was quite unenthused. "This way," she guided, taking a step to lead the way. "There is a board in my study."

Following after her, I let my posture droop a bit once we turned a corner, out of sight from our parents. The walk was not particularly long, relatively speaking. Given that just like any other Pillar family the Sitri estate was f.u.c.k.i.n.g gigantic, it was a couple of minutes. There was no attempt from either of us to break the silence that once more grew between us, though I was a bit tempted.

Finally, we reached a door that Sona stopped at and opened. "Here we are."

The study was about what I expected. A fairly expansive room with two walls lined with dark bookshelves filled to the brim with tomes, a desk resting against the wall opposite of the entrance, and a small table with two couches set just off center of the room. Basically, it was as generic as possible.

Walking in, I took a seat on one of the couches, taking off my suit jacket and laying it over the back. The table already had the chessboard set open on it. Sona quickly took her own seat across from me, smoothing out the skirt of her dress as she did so.

"I take it you understand the rules of chess?" She asked.

"Yes," I confirmed. "White goes first, pawns move forward one but can move two on their first move, etcetera. Even if I don't play it much, I can play decently."

Okay, that was a bit of a stretch. It was more I wasn't a total newbie, even if I did suck a tad.

"Good." She paused for a moment. "Is that why you took the black side, then?"

Looking down at the board, I noted that I had indeed sat on the side with the dark pieces. I gave a small snort of laughter and shrugged. "Hardly. This couch was just closer. It works for me just fine, however, because I'm edgy."

Sona blinked at me. "Edgy?" She parroted, obviously unfamiliar with the word.

I rolled a hand. "It means I am prone to being melodramatic or excessive regarding anything dealing with darkness, literally or figuratively. For example, if I was to order coffee, I'd order it black…" My eyes narrowed and I leaned forward, voice dropping an octave. "Like my soul."

"I see…" She obviously didn't.

"Think of someone who honestly believed that nobody could be in a worse position than them and there was no value to be had in anything around them, so they spout half-baked philosophy and wear all black."

She gave me an odd look. "That is a disturbing thought."

"Of course it's disturbing," I waved off. "It's the path teenagers without two brain cells to rub together travel down. I'm just self-aware enough to find the humor in it." Rubbing at the back of my neck, an action thankfully not blocked by the collar of my shirt given I wasn't made to wear a tie, I considered that we had gotten a bit off track. "Anyway, do you wish to start the game?"

"Ah, yes." Clearing her throat, Sona looked down at the board for a moment. "Knight to f3," she announced.

She wanted state her moves, then? Alright.

"c6." It wasn't a good move, if I remembered correctly. Generally the first priority of chess was to claim the center of the board and prepare to be able to Castle the King, and this early in the game it would be best to be aggressive.

Sona took several seconds to contemplate her choices. If nothing else, she seemed meticulous about her approach. Finally, she made her own move. "g3."

"So," I began, deciding to cut directly to the heart of the matter. "What do you think made our parents force us to interact with each?" Taking a moment, I moved another pawn. "d5."

Her eyes didn't move from the board. "I am fairly certain that has to do with the fact that I find it difficult to get along with my peers. b3."

I quirked an eyebrow at the admission. "Really? I'd imagine you would get along well with the Gremory and Agares heiresses. You're all the same age and share similar responsibilities as future heads of your families." Or that was my rationale, given what I knew of them.

"You're well-informed," she noted, finally glancing back up at me. "And yes, I do get along with Rias. I've never had the opportunity to meet Miss Agares, but you have a point in that we would have common ground. However, the problem is that those are only two individuals, whereas I am expected to interact with many more than that."

Nodding, I could guess at the position she was in. "I take it your trouble stems from your intelligence?" I then made my move. "Bishop to g4."

Sona's attention returned to the board. "Is that a compliment?"

"Just an observation, though you are free to take it as one," I responded with another shrug. Even if I hadn't known about her before this meeting, I likely would have reached the same conclusion. She didn't speak like someone her age, but as an a.d.u.l.t. Further, it took a special kind of person to be entertained by a strategic game such as chess.

"I suppose I will, then." She gave a small sigh. "But, as arrogant as it sounds, I would say yes. It's hard to connect with others." There was a pause. "Bishop to g2."

"That probably explains why they chose me. Old enough to be older, young enough to not be an a.d.u.l.t."

"That seems a fair assumption."

I tapped my fingers against the table, considering my options. "Knight to d7," I eventually decided before looking back at her. "Well, I hope you're not expecting much from a delinquent like me."

Sona gave me another queer look, as if confused about my statement. "I see," she finally said. "You're one of those types."

"Huh?"

She held a finger up before standing, walking over to one of the bookshelves. "My sister bought me a book," she explained as she trailed her finger along the spines as she searched. "Something about helping differentiate the 'interesting' people I might- ah, here it is."

She pulled out a small book with a black cover. "'Chuunibyou User's Manual,'" Sona read aloud, before flipping through the pages even as she walked back and reclaimed her seat. "Here we are: DQN type—Pretends to be anti-social or acts like a delinquent when in fact he or she is not or cannot become like either one. Tells made up stories about gang fights or crimes, or boasts and pretends to know about that subculture."

"Impossible," I refuted immediately. "I really am bad with people."

Sona merely tilted her head slightly as she shut the book. "If you insist."

"Oi!" I growled. "I'm not insisting on anything."

She gave me a flat stare, leaving me feel the heat build in my ears. Because, yes, giving such a stereotypical display of annoyance helped my case tremendously. Slumping in defeat, I hung my head.

Wood clacked as a piece was placed in a new space. "Bishop to b2."

Ah, right, we were still in the middle of a game. With a small sigh I picked myself back up, bringing my hand to hover over the board.

"Swiftly moving on," I started. "Besides chess, what else are you interested in?"

As she considered her answer and I considered my move, we hit a certain tempo in our interaction. Time went by quickly as we made small talk and I kept getting destroyed in chess. Eventually, however, a maid came to retrieve me and we had to say our farewells.

"It's been fun."

"I'm sure it was," I returned as I shrugged my suit jacket back on. "I know you were no doubt struggling to beat me in each round."

Surprisingly, Sona rolled her eyes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, now. Though, admittedly, you did better than most."

"Oh?"

"Just a bit."

"Oh." Pondering that, I took a moment to figure out my response. "Well, don't worry, I'll best you one day."

"We shall see," she returned with a small smile that somehow stood between pleasant and smug.

Returning the smile with a grin of my own, I waved over my shoulder as I walked out of the study.

—​

By the norms of Devil society, my family was huge. Four children was a big number for us, because of our super low fertility rate. Compounded with fact that the oldest and youngest were within three centuries of each other? Why, we must f.u.c.k like rabbits.

However, the age gap between me and my little sister was nothing short of miraculous. Well, if you could use that word for us beings of sin, anyway. Seven years was barely even a blink in the eyes of those that lived for thousands. Practically twins, some probably thought. And by all means we really were quite close.

Such was why I didn't question what Ravel was doing in my room when I returned from my training for the day, sprawled out on the floor and reading through the papers I kept on my desk.

"Hey, Riser?" She called out as I made my way to the bathroom, tossing my towel in the hamper.

"Yeah?"

"You write a lot of weird stuff," my sister declared.

I could only chuckle at that. "That so?"

"It's not even in order! You just put random headings down before putting down more random stuff!" She grabbed one of the pages at random and stood up.

"'To Ashes,'" Ravel read off. "'Greetings once more Epistolary Ac.u.men. Recently I've come to learn everyone loves magic. That's not to say I don't, but I have knowledge only of the very basics outside of a few utility spells. It seems my focus on the physical with neglect to the arcane means that the times I get into competitions has me ranking at or near the bottom. This seems to have started a reputation of me being weak, though I suppose...'"

She trailed and remained silent before looking up at me, a confused expression on her face. "Wait, people think you're weak?"

I shrugged. "To be fair, my magic really is nothing impressive."

"But you don't use magic for combat..."

Walking over to her, I ruffled her hair, quickly getting my hand swatted aside and receiving a glare. "Your brother is an oddball, but don't worry about it too much."

Ravel crossed her arms. "I know that much."

Glancing down at the papers on the floor, I smirked. "I'm sure you do, reading through my personal stuff like that."

"T-that's..."

D'aww. My little sister was adorable when she was embarrassed. Let's see, if this was an anime... My Little Sister In The Other World Is Too Cute!

Or something like that.

"It's fine," I consoled her. "I'm more surprised you could read some of the words I used."

There was a moment of silence before she mumbled out, "I used a dictionary."

Well, that certainly made sense. With a nod, I ruffled her head again before getting a similar response as last time. "Well, I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay."

Oi, sis, this is where you're supposed to leave the room. Don't just nod and sit back down and keep going through my stuff!

Of course, I couldn't actually say that. I possessed too much of a weak spot for her. What's that? Am I a sis-con? Well f.u.c.k you!

... That's a definite maybe.