[Private, NSFW*] Don't mess with the magic man.

Your hand locks around his wrist, holding it firmly replace. You pick up your knife, using the tip to prick his finger and then collect a few drops of his blood. Once you have enough, you release him and rub the blood into the hairball, then push it inside of the doll and stitch it up with surgical precision. He seemed quite calm, but pricking his finger probably will undo that, so you decide to explain yourself. "Da blood makes it so only you can use it. Dis way, if someone else gets it dey can't do shit wid it.."

"Gumbo. Its a type ah soup, very thick an' fillin." You begin to bind the doll. "Wat colour is dis neighbor's blood?" It didn't really matter what the colour of the button eyes were. But when trolls saw a voodoo doll with eyes of their blood colour, it typically made them very nervous.

His touch is kind of cold compared to you, after all he's a highblood, but now that you remember that strange doll is in the hot water, maybe that's what makes the difference? On second thought, why does he haves a doll of you? As you think in this he cuts your finger and you feel a little of pain but it dissapears instantly, you're about to complain when he explains himself, so you just drop your arm and watch him working.

The silence is quite awkward and you start wondering how the situation changed a lot, first you were both trying to kill each other and now you are just here, in awkward silence as he works in that magic doll for you to get revenge on your neighbor... It kind of disappoints you, maybe you were waiting for something else?

-It sounds good...?- you're not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment, you can't really imagine how a gumbo looks like but it seems edible, and since you aren't picky with food, you guess it is alright then. -He's an oliveblood...- just a caste over you, and yet he is so high of himself... You don't give a shit about the hemospectrum, and you know you're not the only one, the difference between you and the others is that you actually don't try to protect your life by pretending to be polite and such, that's bullshit. You get distracted from yout thoughts as your stomach growls, guess it is really late right now.

You dig out a pair of olive buttons from your mess of a drawer and affix them to the doll. You leave the doll on the desk and stand, placing both of your hands on the mahogany wood to push yourself up. "We talk prices in da evenin'." Your back burns as you move, and you wonder if, in their fight for dominance, the spirits clawed your back open. It wouldn't be the first time its happened. You've had worse, much, much worse. You'd lost count of the scars on the upper half of your body.

You walk to the kitchen, rubbing your neck with one hand, then brushing your hair from your face. Yawning, you grabbed a bowl from a cabinet and, stepping over your sleeping lusus, you open the refrigerator and poor leftovers into it. You pop it in the microwave so it can heat up. Glob, you're so tired. You look over to the yellowblood. Yeah, he was attractive. For a lowblood. You yawn again, pinching the bridge of your nose as you do, elbow on the counter, your thumb brushing over the piercing in your septum. It was one of the piercings you regretted, since getting it your nose bled easier.

You watch him, paying complete attention at what he's doing, you've always been a really curious troll, that's the reason you've read a lot of books even if at the end you don't believe what they say, they are quite entertaining. You also like hacking and creating new and useful programs, that's how you gain money, and since you don't really buy things, unless you burn the ones you have, you have a lot of money saved, so you guess the price won't be a problem. -I'm fine with that.- You take the doll, and like always, you examine it, it looks simple on the outside, but you know it's complicated in the inside, it even has a little of your blood in there.

You turn around and watch him doing things in the kitchen. He looks better without all the paint in his face, far better... What to do now? You are kind of getting bored and a little anxious and the warm of the water is making you sleepy, you don't want to sleep in a stranger's house, less if it is one that tried to kill you just a moment ago... though now he offered you dinner? You're feeling quite confused, but maybe you are just making a big deal of this, you're not one who exaggerates over things like this. Maybe you're just anxious because, being the unsociable troll you are, this is the first time you've been in other troll's hive... and you didn't wait it to go like this.

You sigh as you look at all your injures, you really need to get more bandages...

The gumbo is now warmed up. You take it out of the microwave and set it on the counter. Sweet glob your back hurts. That's it, you have got to take your shirt off. You quickly glance at the yellowblood. You never take your shirt off in front of others. For starters, you have tons of scars all over you. Second, there are your tattoos. Each is a different charm; two for power, two for visions and psychic help, one for fortune telling, one for good heath. You had three on each arm. Then there was the one on your chest, the largest of all for protection.

You pull off your shirt, growling when it gets caught on your piercings. Yep, the back of the shirt is definitely wet. You throw it in the sink to wash out later. You hope the lowblood doesn't notice your lack of clothing on your top half. You hope he doesn't notice the scars, the symbols on your body, or what feel like two long scratches on your back. You examine the protection symbol on your chest. It seemed to be growing faint again. Each time the charms were put to use, they faded. You would need to re-apply the protection charm soon.

"You can sleep on the couch, bebette. Tha chambre a bain is in de back if you need it."

((TRANSLATIONS: chambre a bain: bathroom))

The smell of the gumbo fills the room quickly and you stare at it, it is indeed the same scent as earlier, so maybe he was preparing some of it when you arrived, they say food makes trolls happy, that was probably the reason he was in a good mood before you pissed him off, but you don't regret that, it was kind of funny, you've never seen someone that angry, it was really amusing. For someone like you who's always angry, finding other person like that is... refreshing?

You rise your sight a little and what you see surprises you, a lot to say the truth. You stare at his back and at his arms, you examine each of the tattoos and scars, two of them are new, you wonder if he got them while you were gone, which is improbable. You know you should stop staring at him and that maybe you should feel horrorified or something, but it's the complete opposite, it fascinates you, you know each of them has a story ad you want to know them. But you won't ask.

Instead you look at his eyes when he talks to you -Yeah... right, thanks...- you don't know what to say, you just walk to the place he said without knowing what it is, 'cause you didn't understand him again. It is just the bathroom, you enter it and sit down on the floor, you decide to change your bandages again, one of your cuts opened again and your dripping blood, you clean it quickly so you don't make a mess.

Now that you think about it, he said you can sleep in the couch, and even if it's better than nothing, you know you won't sleep at all. The daymares chase you if you don't sleep in the sopor slime, so yeah, no sleep for you today. It won't be surprising if you're angry tomorrow.

You manage to wipe the blood from your back. You can feel the lines that make up your health charm warming, fire running through them as the charm does its work. Soon, the cuts knit and the uncomfortable feeling ends. You pull out the hairband that keeps your hair pinned at the base of your neck, running your fingers through your hair. The curls spread across the back of your shoulders. You've considered cornrowing all of your head, but it would be too much of a hassle to keep up. Instead, you tighten the purple bands around the cornrows you do have on the side of your head.

For you, it doesn't mater if you sleep in or out of slime. The horrorterrors that haunt you during the day always find you, no matter how much slime you sleep in. You'd learned to sleep through the daymares from a young age, and even though you know how to rid yourself of them you don't bother to do so. It would be strange to sleep without them. Instead of a recoupracoon, you sleep in what is best described as a nest. No, not really, its typically a mass of blankets that you wind yourself in as you sleep.

You get out of the bathroom and look around you searching for Sersen, he's not there so you guess he's still in the kitchen. You replaced all of your bandages and added some new ones, you didn't cover the bruises in your chin and neck tough, it's not really necessary since they can't get infected or something, though they look pretty awful. You walk to the kitchen slowly, you're feeling a little uncomfortable, it was a little better when both of you where fighting, you at least had something to say.

-Can I eat that?- you ask ignoring his scars and tattoos, you're pretty sure that's what he wants. Also, anything is better than sleeping, though you're feeling dead tired right now, you don't want the daymares to reapeat over and over gain during the night, remembering the day you practically ruined your life isn't funny at all.

You look over to the lowblood, noticing the bruising that you caused. You refuse to feel guilty, he deserved it for being so disrespectful towards you. He was disrespectful to the point where you had wondered if he was an idiot. No, he was just really angry. You hadn't met someone that matched your anger before, and you'd actually given up trying to win the fight. Then again, if you had held on then you would be in a much worse state than you are in now.

"Ya, you can eat dat." You grab a spoon and reach over to stick it in the bowl. You don't realize that there is maybe half an inch between you and the yellowblood until the spoon is half submerged in the soup. Do you want to wind him up again? Who are you kidding. Of course you do.

You grin at him. "How you likin' dose bruises, bebette?"

You approach him in order to get the bowl with the spoon, you don't even say thanks, more like you forgot to say it, you're not used to it, you start eating slowly as you some annoying thoughts cross your mind, you don't even know what you are eating, it doesn't tastes bad so you're good with eat, you would even say it is good if you were paying attention to what you're doing now, but you're not, you're just wondering how are you going to sleep tonight, more like, how are you not going to sleep tonight, 'cause you're pretty sleepy.

Even so, you're pulled out of your thougths when you hear what he has to say. Oh yeah, this is better than the awkward silence of before -Oh yeah, they are so fucking great, like a little memory of our first meeting- you say sarcastically, of couse you don't like them , they look pretty awful, but whatever -You should be thankful I didn't burn your hive down, it's something easy to do- you finish eating and leave the bowl where it was before. You look at him in the eyes, maybe this way you won't sleep? The only thing you want the most right now is to avoid the daymares, if this is the solution, you're more than ready to piss a little purpleblood and maybe get your head ripped off, who knows.

You refuse to lose this staring contest. You're grinning at him, leaning over him now, your eyes narrowing. " Easy? Yet I was able to do one little 'trick' dat you don't believe in to stop you. And you should be tankful dat I haven't killed you yet. Or, mebbie..." You grab his chin again. "Mebbie I am waitin' until you fall asleep. Mebbie I slipped poison into your food. Mebbie you are dyin' right now." You release him and chuckle, but you don't step back. You are tired but you have boldness running through you now, something near feral as you stand your ground against the lowblood.

"Perhaps you want some more memories, eh bebette?"

You grin to, this is getting pretty interesting, you're still tired but you think you'll manage to keep awake until the sun sets down. You stand there and growl at him when he touched you again, you're still not used to physical contact with other trolls, but you think you might like it, at least if it's him. -Hey, I'm trying my best here, but, should I?- you snicker -Then I might as well not sleep today.- you grin when he releases you.

-Maybe, maybe not- you grin -It depends on what do you have to offer- you lean a little, almost closing the distance between both of you completely.

You'd be lying if you said you're not at least a little black for him, and since you don't like lying you'll just admit it, why not? He's the only troll you've known that is kind of similar to you, and that pisses you off, enough to even feel a little of hate.

That slight lean was all you need. Your hand quickly goes to his face, your thumb on one side of his chin and the rest of your fingers on the other. Your forefinger is pressed against his jawbone, the other three pressing into his neck and throat. Your other hand is on his shoulder, gripping tightly. Before he can process or react to any of this, you are kissing him, hard, your body pressed against his. You pull back, your nose still touching his, a half inch between your lips.

"Dat is wat I have to offah."

You are grinning at him again, your fingers leaving more bruises on his body. If the lowblood wasn't pissed before (doubtful, his only moods seemed to be angry and even angrier) he definitely would be.

He moves to fast you aren't capable to process what's happening until he's kissing you, he's body pressing against yours, his hands leaving new marks and bruises in your body... And it feels so damn right, you lean a little more so you can correspond the kiss with the same ferocity, even if you like it, you're angry because he actually stole that kiss, and you don't want to lose this little game you just started. You contain a complain when he pulls back.

You lick your lips a little, slowly, and then you grin, you slide one of your hands behind he's head and you pull him a little closer, with a little of roughness of course -Better than nothing- you close the distance completely and kiss him with fierceness, bitting his lower lip a little on purpose, you want to piss him off. Then you pull back again, this little game of dominance is entertaining enough, and you are so pissed off right now, better to enjoy it the most.

You push him against the refrigerator, growling as you do. You shift your hand from his chin to against his throat, your thumb pressing against his adam's apple. You grab a fist full of his hair, pulling down so his head is tilted up towards yours. You have him pinned with your hips, knowing that you are much, much stronger than him. Your nails dig into the skin on his neck as you bite him back, harder. If he wanted to dominate, he was going to have to fight hard for it. You smile, chuckling.

"I can always throw you back in da bog, if dats what you want. I tink you will find you are at the mercy of da 'wicked witch doctah'."

You know there's no way of winning this, he's stronger and taller than you, he's a damn purpleblood after all, but hell if you care, you're not the type to step back and run, less when there is so much adrenalin involved. You can't remember you ever experienced a hate like this, it's so amusing and it's making you act before even thinking, that's not like you but you can't help yourself, this is better than what it looks.

He corners you against what it seems to be the fridge and you push yourself over him, digging your nails hard under his neck's skin, you bite him back so hard you cut his lips a little, a purple fluid emanates from it and you lick his lip, savoring the flavor. This is a lost war and you're a stubborn soldier.

-I'm never at someone's mercy- you grin -And I can always help you remodeling your house, a little burn here or there should do the trick.

Your fist in his hair tightens and you match his grin, a certain darkness flickering through your eyes. Your hand moves from his throat to his wrist, the one attached to the hand currently trying to dig into your neck. Quickly, you pull it from your throat and pin it to the refrigerator, holding it firmly above his head.

"I could always switch dat trinket dat controls you into ice watah. Or perhaps I could make dat headache return."

You yank on his hair again, twisting his head so you have clear access to his neck. You begin by nibbling on his ear, slowly moving down his neck to his collar bone, growing more aggressive as you move, leaving dark hickeys and bite marks. Little symbols of ownership, like you were marking your territory. The last bite you make draws blood, his yellow blood mixing with the blood from your bleeding lip as you create another hickey.

You growl at him when he grabs your hand, you still have the other one but he's pushing on you too hard, and he's too heavy for you, damn the hemospectrum. You're feeling hot, and you know it's not because of the hot water, but because the fire is spreading through your body, slowly and not strongly  enough to burn him.

-And I could a burn or two in your body- you smirk -Maybe you should bring the water, I'm already heating up- you touch his face with your free hand and you are indeed pretty hot by now.

Your exposed neck makes you feel a little vulnerable, but you don't let him see that, at least they're not your horns, that ones are pretty sensible. You know he wants you to shout or at least complain in pain, so you purposely contain little moans of pain, but also of pleasure, goddamit, you hate this as much as you enjoy it. There is no way you can cover all the bruises and hickeys he's making, but as hell if you care that someone finds out.

-Tch...- you growl at him with the last bite, that one was more painful than the others, you can even feel the blood sliding through your neck. That makes the fire spread a little more, you're going to burn him. And you want that. you release from his grip enough to lean on his neck and leave your own marks, this battle is not lost yet.

You chuckle at his growl, moving your mouth to his ear. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you, bebette?" Your voice is condescending and you press yourself harder against his warming body. You feel him trying to leave marks on your neck, and you grab his chin again, grinning as you chastise him.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, bebette."

In an instant you slam him to the floor, straddling him with your hands clamped around his wrists. Laughing darkly, you move his hands above his head, holding them together and firmly against the floor in one of yours. You lean over him, your free hand now fondling one of his horns. Glob how you want to see him squirm.

"Hm, what should I do with you now, bebette?"

-Of fucking course not- you say to him when he separates a little. You hiss and growl at him again, you're not really sure why but it feels natural doing so, it's getting harder and harder to escape, but you're not going to give in, never, just because you don't want and you don't like people bossing you around. He's not the exception, at least for that, because you are sure you'll never makeout with a random troll just because you're pissed off, no, he's different in that way, and that's because his too much like you, and you totally hate that. You totally hate him.

-And you don't go bossing me around.

And suddenly but of you are on the floor, it takes you for surprise but you don't make much of it as always, it doesn't even hurts because he has bitten you a lot already. You don't even try to escape even though having your hands above your head without being able to defend yourself makes you a little uncomfortable. That is until he touches your horns. Until the damn bastard touches your fucking horns. You're okay with anything except him touching your horns, they are too sensitive, your eyes wide and you can even feel yourself flushing a little when he strokes one of your horn and you actually try to escape from him... But he's too fucking heavy.

-Fuck. Stop... touching my horn bastard- you seriously are about to start panting, you won't show yourself in such a shameful way, fucking no.

You laugh, you've found his weakness. You lean closer to him, your thumb rubbing circles on the base of his horn. His reaction only goads you on and you kiss his neck, a little gentler this time, precisely hitting each hickey you've created, making them darker. "An' why would I do dat, bebette?" You want to hear him whine and moan, completely helpless under your hands. You want to be the one to enrage him and then silence him with your mouth on his. You feel strangely protective of him, wanting the locals to know that he was yours and not to fuck with him. To mess with this lowblood was to mess with the witch doctor. You still don't know the lowbloods name, yet despite that you are determined that he be your kismesis before the sun sets again.

Your mouth trails up to his ear again and you pause. "You may call me Sersen, bebette."

-Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...- you murmur for yourself, or at least you try too because your pretty sure you were pretty loud right now. A low moan escapes from your lips, followed by a couple more of them, you try to keep them as low as you can, this is embarrassing enough, your cheecks are covered by a dark yellow by now, and your hate has doubled. When both of you are down with this, you'll make sure to burn him to ashes... 'Cause yeah, even if you hate it so much, you don't want this to stop.

-You damn bastard...- you whisper letting out a little moan again, as he kisses you're neck again, all the caressing in your horns has made you really sensitive, you're feeling every bit of this, and maybe you're becoming addicted to it, his gentleness startles you a little bit. You struggle again trying to escape, but you don't have enough strenght, you're also burning by now and you wonder why he hasn't stepped back, maybe since he's a highblood he doesn't really feels it that hot? You're losing the train of your thoughts, if this continues you're going to be absorbed by it.

-Not like I asked- you manage to grin -But I'll make sure not to call you like that...

He is growing very hot, and you know the hand holding his wrists will be raw tomorrow. But glob it is so worth it. He's moaning and its driving you crazy, the words he manages to get out only encouraging you. He was struggling beneath you, still defiant but completely helpless. You loved it.

You chuckle again, acting like you are completely unaffected by his sounds. "So are you goin' ta insist on callin' me da wicked witch docta? Because its a bit of a' mouthful."

Your bulge was now completely out of its sheathing, trying to find somewhere to fit in your pants. You were wet and you knew it, his moans had heated you up more than you cared to admit, and there was a blush across your face as well. You wondered if he could feel how aroused you were. You continued to kiss his neck and softly rub his horns, wanting to hear him moan more.

-There are... better ways... to call you...- you are helplessly moaning and panting right now, your body is so hot and sensitive right now that it is nearly impossible to maintain your voice low, scratch that, it is completely impossible. You can sense there is lust in your eyes and your bulge is also actively reacting, you don't know what do you hate the most right now, if your weak body or the bastard that's above you, a really difficult decision.

-Nhn... Tch...- you let out a little surprised moan when you feel something pressing against your body, it's moving and it is wet, it's his bulge. You blush a little more when you realize he's as excited as you are, and that he's also blushing, to be serious, you never thought he could blush, at least not like that these.

By now you're a mess of loud moans, pants and heat, you wonder if you're burning him, but you are unable to keep the thoughts, they vanish as soon as they appear. You don't have the strenght to even struggle anymore, so you just ocasionally fidget as you shake because of his kisses and his rubbing. The hickeys are going to be so hard to hide tomorrow... I fyou even get to scape his hive sometime.

You could feel his bulge moving under you, that and his moans making you whine. You don't know how much more foreplay you could handle; you wanted him and you wanted him now. At the sound of his surprised moan, you bow your head, spitting out a breathy 'fuck'. You push yourself up, looking into his eyes, hoping he wanted it too. There is lust and hate there, which is enough of a signal for you. You stand and lift him to his feet by slipping your hands under his armpits. You take his hand, stepping towards your bedroom.

"Will you lay with me today, bebette?" Despite the mix of hate and desire for him you felt it right to ask.