(no subject)
Title: Just
Genre: Angst
Pairings/Characters: Asch, little bit of Dist in thar.
Rating: PG
Summary: Asch knows the proper way to lose weight; starvation by horrible, rending fear and guilt!
I was just a tool to him. Just an item, a piece of meat with the ability to hyperresonate. When he looked at me, he didn’t see a person, but a means with which to accomplish his goal.
But I didn’t care. I looked up to him, respected him, admired him; Van raised me since I was ten, and taught me everything I needed to know to survive. I’d been pampered, sheltered, and taken advantage of until he kidnapped me, but it didn’t occur to me that I was still being taken advantage of until he told me what he planned to do.
I still didn’t care. I’d let him use me, because that would mean that I’d be needed.
…but then Luke was born. And suddenly, I realized I wasn’t essential anymore. Mother and Father had Luke as their son, Natalia had Luke as her fiancé, and Van had Luke as his substitute, should anything happen to me.
I’d been replaced. In every way possible. And I hadn’t even died yet.
I was…unnecessary.
Alone.
Perhaps that’s what infuriated me the most when that idiot replica called himself unnecessary. He was so wrong, he couldn’t see that everyone preferred him, would rather have him, except Van. Van still wanted me, but…I didn’t want to be used by him anymore. Because if something happened to me, I didn’t know if he’d try everything in his power to save me.
Because he had a back-up. A copy, just in case something went wrong.
There’d be no one to mourn my passing. No one would care if I was dead.
The moment that thought entered my mind, I felt so cold and short of breath that I tore from the underground training facility and into the city. I think someone was calling for me, possibly Largo, but I ignored him and ran and ran up to the fourth monument, and by the time I’d reached it my lungs and eyes were burning and I was covered in sweat, and my heart was pounding and a stitch in my chest was making it hard to pull in the air I was gasping for. That was when I was fifteen.
For the next two years, I simmered and plotted and planned and snuck around Daath like some criminal, dodging the questions the others shot at me. They all wanted Van to succeed; the only one who had the weakest convictions was Dist, but he had convinced Van that he wanted his plan to happen. I don’t know how…he’s always been a bit insane, and he wore his heart not only on his sleeve, but practically pinned to his chest. But Van allowed him to stay.
I told him.
I remember when it happened. I was sixteen, and gnawing anxiety had been clawing at my insides for the past eleven months. It had gotten so bad that I wasn’t eating very much, I wasn’t sleeping, and the other god-generals, not to mention Van, had noticed. I was running the risk at being discovered at this place, and…I was terrified that Van would kill me if he knew that I had no intention of helping him.
He was most certainly capable of that.
I’d been sitting out on a fourth-floor balcony and idly contemplating throwing myself off of it -I don’t think I was really going to, but it had been a nice thought at the time- when I’d heard footsteps behind me. It was Dist.
I never really liked Dist. He was too strange, too eccentric, and I would have sworn he was gay if he didn’t have this obscene fascination with some dead woman. And I just couldn’t trust him; he was underhanded, sneaky and using his position just to aid in whatever endeavor he had planned.
Just like me.
He walked up beside me, leaned against the railing for a moment before asking if I was going to jump. I said that I was thinking about it.
“Then jump,” he’d said, and I couldn’t see his eyes because the moon was reflecting off of his glasses. He wasn’t the type to make jokes, though.
I opened my mouth, intending to tell him off, but instead my plan to stop Van tumbled out before I could stop myself. By the end I was shaking -I’m proud to say I’d managed not to cry, because the urge to do so had been welling up since seven months ago- and clutching the railing and seriously considering jumping, because I’d just told Dist, who would no doubt go straight to Van.
He didn’t say anything, and didn’t even move, so I asked him if he was going to tell Van. All he told me was that as long as I didn’t get in his way, he’d keep my secret.
I found a new respect for him then.
He’s still creepy, though.
The feelings of being alone intensified, strangely enough, when I was finally put in charge of my own unit. Special Forces. We were the ones who took on the nasty jobs, like hunting down religious criminals for on-the-spot execution and killing any powerful monsters that decided to nest around chapels. Fortunately, there wasn’t a lot of the former to do, and I think that disappointed Van.
It showed that nobody opposed the Score.
Whatever faith Van had had in the world before was gone now, and suddenly I was just a bit more vital, a bit more important than before.
…I won’t lie and say that it didn’t comfort me, even with my treachery already planned. My betrayal of the one person who, even if only for a moment, for just long enough to replicate me, had needed me.
…God, what am I going to do?
Genre: Angst
Pairings/Characters: Asch, little bit of Dist in thar.
Rating: PG
Summary: Asch knows the proper way to lose weight; starvation by horrible, rending fear and guilt!
I was just a tool to him. Just an item, a piece of meat with the ability to hyperresonate. When he looked at me, he didn’t see a person, but a means with which to accomplish his goal.
But I didn’t care. I looked up to him, respected him, admired him; Van raised me since I was ten, and taught me everything I needed to know to survive. I’d been pampered, sheltered, and taken advantage of until he kidnapped me, but it didn’t occur to me that I was still being taken advantage of until he told me what he planned to do.
I still didn’t care. I’d let him use me, because that would mean that I’d be needed.
…but then Luke was born. And suddenly, I realized I wasn’t essential anymore. Mother and Father had Luke as their son, Natalia had Luke as her fiancé, and Van had Luke as his substitute, should anything happen to me.
I’d been replaced. In every way possible. And I hadn’t even died yet.
I was…unnecessary.
Alone.
Perhaps that’s what infuriated me the most when that idiot replica called himself unnecessary. He was so wrong, he couldn’t see that everyone preferred him, would rather have him, except Van. Van still wanted me, but…I didn’t want to be used by him anymore. Because if something happened to me, I didn’t know if he’d try everything in his power to save me.
Because he had a back-up. A copy, just in case something went wrong.
There’d be no one to mourn my passing. No one would care if I was dead.
The moment that thought entered my mind, I felt so cold and short of breath that I tore from the underground training facility and into the city. I think someone was calling for me, possibly Largo, but I ignored him and ran and ran up to the fourth monument, and by the time I’d reached it my lungs and eyes were burning and I was covered in sweat, and my heart was pounding and a stitch in my chest was making it hard to pull in the air I was gasping for. That was when I was fifteen.
For the next two years, I simmered and plotted and planned and snuck around Daath like some criminal, dodging the questions the others shot at me. They all wanted Van to succeed; the only one who had the weakest convictions was Dist, but he had convinced Van that he wanted his plan to happen. I don’t know how…he’s always been a bit insane, and he wore his heart not only on his sleeve, but practically pinned to his chest. But Van allowed him to stay.
I told him.
I remember when it happened. I was sixteen, and gnawing anxiety had been clawing at my insides for the past eleven months. It had gotten so bad that I wasn’t eating very much, I wasn’t sleeping, and the other god-generals, not to mention Van, had noticed. I was running the risk at being discovered at this place, and…I was terrified that Van would kill me if he knew that I had no intention of helping him.
He was most certainly capable of that.
I’d been sitting out on a fourth-floor balcony and idly contemplating throwing myself off of it -I don’t think I was really going to, but it had been a nice thought at the time- when I’d heard footsteps behind me. It was Dist.
I never really liked Dist. He was too strange, too eccentric, and I would have sworn he was gay if he didn’t have this obscene fascination with some dead woman. And I just couldn’t trust him; he was underhanded, sneaky and using his position just to aid in whatever endeavor he had planned.
Just like me.
He walked up beside me, leaned against the railing for a moment before asking if I was going to jump. I said that I was thinking about it.
“Then jump,” he’d said, and I couldn’t see his eyes because the moon was reflecting off of his glasses. He wasn’t the type to make jokes, though.
I opened my mouth, intending to tell him off, but instead my plan to stop Van tumbled out before I could stop myself. By the end I was shaking -I’m proud to say I’d managed not to cry, because the urge to do so had been welling up since seven months ago- and clutching the railing and seriously considering jumping, because I’d just told Dist, who would no doubt go straight to Van.
He didn’t say anything, and didn’t even move, so I asked him if he was going to tell Van. All he told me was that as long as I didn’t get in his way, he’d keep my secret.
I found a new respect for him then.
He’s still creepy, though.
The feelings of being alone intensified, strangely enough, when I was finally put in charge of my own unit. Special Forces. We were the ones who took on the nasty jobs, like hunting down religious criminals for on-the-spot execution and killing any powerful monsters that decided to nest around chapels. Fortunately, there wasn’t a lot of the former to do, and I think that disappointed Van.
It showed that nobody opposed the Score.
Whatever faith Van had had in the world before was gone now, and suddenly I was just a bit more vital, a bit more important than before.
…I won’t lie and say that it didn’t comfort me, even with my treachery already planned. My betrayal of the one person who, even if only for a moment, for just long enough to replicate me, had needed me.
…God, what am I going to do?