My first actual fanfic that isn't part of an rp! Writing this for NaNo and I hope it turns out well because I love this pairing! They give me all the feels. ALL OF THEM!

"You could save yourself." Makarin said, his voice is as loud as thunder as he spoke. "All you have to do is fill a quadrant with me. Then you would be under my protection." The small troll stood in front of him defiantly, his wrists bound with chain.

"No." He said simply as his red eyes looked up at the mountainous being in front of him. "I have what quadrants I want to be filled and they will stay like that until I am executed tomorrow."

"Now, now Signless. Don't be rash." The Grand Highblood shook his head. "I want to help you. I want your message to spread."

"You want my blood on your walls." He yelled. "I am no fool. I knew this day would come and I know that it will do nothing if my followers do not see that I am willing to die to change the world."

"Is that not better than being motherfucking killed?" The Grand Highblood stood, his form towering over the red blooded troll. "Do you want your fucking matesprit to watch you die?"

"I don't want anyone to die…" The troll said. "I want there to be peace but there will be no peace as long as the Condesce is alive. Only death and fear and hate." Makarin shook his head, his long hair swaying with the movement.

"I can't fucking believe that you are willing to die for a few motherfucking dreams."

"I want to return to my cell." The Signless said, looking him in the eye. Makarin wanted the troll, wanted his candy red blood to be paint for the greatest painting of them all but this troll was firm in his decision.

"Fine. Leave." He shooed the troll away, feeling disappointed as the troll walked from his chamber. "Could have been a motherfucking miracle…" He whispered into his palm. Before too long, he became weary with exhaustion and the coming of the sun. Makarin watched the horizon turn bright as he sat on the balcony of his respite block. It was in the light of the rising sun that he decided that he would be the only highblood to not witness the death of the traitor, of the Signless. He sighed crawling into his giant bed, preferring that to the lime green sopor slime of his recuperacoon. Sleep was quick to take him into its loving arms.

Night came all too quickly, as it did for the nocturnal race of Alternia. He laid on his bed, his hair wild and even more tangled than usual as it spread around him. Today was the day that his miracle would leave this world and return to the Mirthful Messiahs. A few of his Subjugglators came to his chamber in an attempt to persuade him into attending the funeral but their faces made it seem more like a festival. It sickened him. It was strange how someone who had killed so many without so much as a blink of an eye could be so affected by the death of one troll, one lowblooded troll.

"The Condescension herself might have to come and wake him from this motherfucking trance."

"She'll be motherfucking pissed and probably cull a whole lot of us!"

"What the fuck has gotten into him? He's supposed to be our king!" He sighed, turning on his side as the Subjugglators continued their hushed conversation.

"If you don't want to get fucking culled by me then I suggest you get out of my motherfucking room!" Makarin yelled, sitting up in his bed before the purple bloods scattered like frightened squeakbeasts.

He sighed as he turned and grabbed his husktop for the bedside table. "She's probably bitching about this…"

condescendingCuller {CC} began trolling tyrannicalCreator {TC}

CC: Makarin get your glubbing bass down ) (ere before I come and krill you!

TC: i'm sorry condesce but i don't fucking feel like going to the festivities

CC: don't make me come down t) (ere Makarin. I will.

TC: THEN COME FUCKING GET ME BECAUSE I'M NOT FUCKING GOING

TC: honk

CC: don't start ) (onking at me Makarin. I will krill your bass!

TC: i'll go when it's almost over

TC: ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?

CC: good. I expect to see you grinning w) (en you get ) (ere.

tyrannicalCreator {TC} ceased trolling condescendingCuller {CC}

Makarin made his way to the ablution block, wanting the feel of the hot water running over his sore muscles, washing away the paint that covered him. He passed a few of the younger Subjugglators on his way, frightening them with the soft growl he gave when they came too near for his liking. It was just one of those nights.

Relief came with a sudden rush of steaming hot water as it poured over him. He sighed, leaning against the wall, soaking up the warmth as if it were the only thing he needed to face the cruel world as a Subjugglator. After a while of soaking, he cleaned himself, taking extra care with the grease paint on his stomach. He had been in a battle recently, in which he had earned a new slice across the stomach that would scar as all the rest had. After exiting the ablution trap, he looked himself over in the full length mirror. He was tall, muscular and covered in scars, as any veteran Subjugglator was. Makarin stretched, his muscles buzzing with pleasure.

Grabbing his clothes, he walked through the halls of his castle hive stark naked. No one minded the nudity for it was common among their caste. The feeling of nudity was a way of being close to the Messiahs. Makarin considered heading to the kitchen but a loud growl from his stomach cemented the decision. As he walked the halls, he noticed the various blotches of indigo on the floors and walls.

Pailing wasn't considered necessary to the Subjugglators for they had no problem killing any culling drone. It was quite common to walk through the halls and see trolls pailing with and without buckets to catch their material. Makarin had never partaken in that certain behavior but he had no shame in parading around the castle in his birthday suit.

"Grand Highblood, why don't you join us?" One of the Subjugglators asked as he strode into the dining hall. The male troll thrust into the troll he was pailing, causing the other to groan loudly.

"I'm fine with my bulge not being in someone's nook every 10 minutes." He laughed, shaking his head as he continued walking.

"Have you ever had your bulge in someone's nook, Makarin?" A voice came from behind him.

"That is none of your concern, Kairin." He said, turning to face the troll.

"I don't believe you have. I've known you since we were wrigglers, Makarin." Kairin grinned. "Worry not brother, you'll find someone worthy of you."

"I'm not worried. It just doesn't interest me." Makarin shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see the point of it when we don't have to do it."

"It feels so goooooooooooooooood." The troll being pailed moaned.

"I can see that but I still have no interest in pailing."

"You are young still and you will find a troll that piques your interest in said topic." Kairin smiled, patting Makarin's shoulder as he walked by.

Makarin shook his head again and walked away from the trolls, heading toward the food preparation block. No one stopped him as he took a few pieces of fruit and a large slab of meat on a plate. He bit the star shaped fruit in half, sighing at the sweet tanginess of the pale fruit. Arriving in his room, he set the plate on his bed before shoving the last half of his last starfruit into his mouth. He crawled on the plush mattress and curled around the plate, picking chucks of meat from the bones and plucking them in his mouth.

Warm meat and his favorite fruit were the only things that made Makarin happy. Well, those food items and painting. Painting made him feel relaxed, content. Nothing stressful happened when he was painting. He sighed, looking over at the newest addition to his Wall of Miracles. It should be time to go see the last moments of the holiday.

He dressed quickly in his cropped shirt that showed his sculpted mid-section along with black pants with indigo polka dots and a loincloth like piece that had his symbol. After his boots, he slipped his wrist cuffs on, covering from wrist to just below his elbow. He gave himself a once over in the mirror before leaving.

The square wasn't too far away, only taking an hour to get there. He walked into the courtyard where the displays took place. His face was emotionless as he looked upon the red blooded troll as he hung from heated irons, an arrow in his side, speaking as pale red tears mingled with bright red blood.

"I am different but why does that difference have to end in death and hate? It doesn't have to be like that. I wished for change and I still wish for it." He raised his head. "My death is not the end. There are others who will fight for peace, for love." The Signless scanned the crowd.

"You kill innocent trolls because they are dirty to you. You feel that they are lower than you. Why is that? Are we not all trolls?" He looked at the members of the audience. Makarin couldn't take his eyes off the hanging troll.

"You have turned gifts into curses and have torn families apart! Do you not know of love? Does killing innocents truly seem like the right thing to do? Are you fucking happy with yourselves? FUCK!" He screamed. "My only problem with dying is that I forgive you for killing me… Because I pity you all… I pity all of you who have never had the gift of know the love and camaraderie that I have known."

It was with those words that the Signless died. Makarin tried not to react to the screams of protest as he lit the fire under the mutant troll after they made sure he was actually dead.

"Makarin."

"Yes Empress?" He said, walking back to his position by her.

"That was a lovely show." She grinned before getting up from her throne and leaving. Makarin couldn't look away from the fire as it burned or as the Psionic, a miracle in his own right, tried to break free from the Subjugglator that was holding him back, his powers trying to spark but failing.

He left before the body had finished burning, returning to his castle, feeling colder than ice and harder than stone. Sweeps passed and he became a cruel leader. Moon Rise, a traditional Subjugglator holiday, was coming close. He could feel the lust building inside of him as the nights passed. Moon Rise under Makarin's reign were the most fearsome out of any Grand Highblood's before him. The night came and most of the hive-cities were deserted. Only crazy trolls went out on Moon Rise. Makarin walked through the maze of halls, swinging his clubs in his hands.

The first town to be searched was a town that was populated mainly by rustbloods. He stalked through the streets, a wicked grin appearing on his face as he brought his club over the Tinkerbulls head.