Sol, Pron, FINALLY
I've had this on my laptop forever. So here it is, the half-finished AtB/fononfailure fic from the kinkmeme. And it still pushes me too far, so unfortunately half-finished is all can do right now. But hey. It's twisted.

Some days it was too easy to take over. It was too obvious that he wouldn't be able to take it. He was too weak, he thought fondly. That was why he needed him. He didn't need his husband or that girl Luke or the female him. They wouldn't be able to do anything about it. They were too weak, too...

Not him.

But the girl Luke... the way she looked up at him. The eyes so full of trust, even when she knew who it was in control. The way she barely held herself in check, the way she just almost didn't keep herself from grabbing this body and just having her way with it... again. She had her own twisted core, he had to admit. The urge to hurt someone she supposedly loved... someones, he thought with a chuckle. He had heard a few things about how she had hurt the person she was supposed to be engaged to.

She was too trusting. So twisted, so trusting. It was almost a joke to grab her, pinning her up against the wall. Her eyes went wide, frightened, but believing that no harm would actually come to her. He watched her mouth open, as if to talk him down, to try and call his property back out to the fore. But he was firmly hiding, barely responding to the crude internal responses that he should take her again. Just rip off her pants, fuck her like the animal she was. He grabbed her jaw crushingly hard, smiling down at her. "Ah, ah. None of that." He squeezed harder, feeling a thrill as she let out a choked noise of pain.

"You think you're going to call him back out, aren't you?" He felt her jerk against his hand, and snorted. "Of course you are. You think you can help him? You think you can save him?"

A spark flared in the depths of her eyes, and her lids closed until only a sliver of angry green remained. He shook her jaw, paying no mind to the grip on his sleeve. "The right answer is no," he told her mildly. "No, I cannot save him, he is yours. Say it."

"Fuck you," she ground out.

"You've done that twice," he reminded her. "Cheating on someone you consider your fiance... you're rather good at this, you realize. I'm impressed... you would think you've done this for a long time." He bit back a laugh at the affronted look that settled firmly on her face. "Are you trying to deny it?"

"I'm nothing like you," she tried to spit out. "Nothing."

He laughed, gripping tighter. "I wonder," he mused. "I wonder, I wonder." He lifted his hand off her jaw, placing two fingers on her lips. Instantly, predictably, she snapped at the fingers, showing off two long and wickedly sharp fangs. The enamel on the enlongated teeth grazed his skin as he pulled his hand back, too close for comfort.

Or perhaps not close enough.

"Nice teeth you have there," he told her, smirking. "I take it you're thirsty about now... craving blood." He wiggled his fingers in her line of sight, watching her fixate on them, her jaw tightening. "My blood." He carefully touched her cheek, yanking his hand back as she snapped again, this time pulling back fast enough that no teeth touched his skin. "Do you want a drink, little vampire slut?"

"Asch..." Even in her anger, she attempted to call to the shivering wreck inside him. "You don't want to do this. I know you're-" She broke off as he grabbed her throat, slamming her back to the wall.

"You're relentless." He leaned into her, feeling and hearing her inhale sharply at the feeling of that body against hers, his awakening arousal pressing into her. His free hand slowly slid into his pocket, reaching for the box cutter he knew was there. Ah, his Asch and the fact that very occasionally he managed to slice a new line into his skin. He let go of her neck, pinning her there with the weight of his own body, and held up the silver rectangle. "You know what this is."

Her eyes were blank. "... what?"

He laughed, sliding it up, revealing the wickedly sharp blade. Her eyes went wide and he could see her pulse beating wildly in her throat. "I should use this on you," he mused, tracing a line down her cheek. "Carve 'whore' on your forehead. Backwards, so when you looked in the mirror you see exactly what you are." He slid the blade down to her neck, cutting a shallow line down the flesh there. "Slice your clothing off and write 'slut' and 'dick magnet' across your tits. Put 'well used' on your stomach with an arrow down."