For @umbravirtus -- Because Clearly, None Of Us Actually Love Hans Enough To Like, Not Torture Him When

for @umbravirtus -- because clearly, none of us actually love Hans enough to like, not torture him when given the opportunity. and btw, for anyone who does not want to see a non-Hellaverse guest muse on here (Eris Vanserra, from ACOTAR), you can blacklist his tag, I will be sure to use it on all of his replies <3

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"We caught this one in the northwoods, High Lord," one of the guards said, bowing deeply as they brought their prisoner forward.

Eris Vanserra did not immediately acknowledge them. He had heard them, but he was occupied with the way a courtier was whispering into his ear. The woman had been trying to get his attention for months, and he was fairly certain she was one of Azriel's little spies, doubtless instructed to play at being thoughtless in order to get close. He had ignored her all this time, but with the Harvest Festival approaching, it seemed best to just deal with her. If she thought he really was listening, well, that was unfortunate for her. Things were tenuous at best these days--not just in the lands of his Court, but all throughout the fae realm--and his patience was wearing thin. Still, he let her whisper, let her lean in close, let her perfume fill his senses--then waved a dismissive hand at her.

Her teeth clicked, she shut her mouth so quickly. Eris smirked, not even kind enough to bother hiding it. He was in a mood these days, and saw no reason to pretend otherwise. Having recently taken over as High Lord, it felt like he was constantly dancing along the edge of a knife. It would be nice to have a distraction, and apparently one had just arrived.

Stepping down from the dais, he walked towards the handsome human prisoner. As he moved, Eris seemed to gleam; the grand hall was full of firelight, torches and candles everywhere, glittering on the gold and gems worked into his clothing--robes of a rich red silk, exquisitely layered and cut to reveal shades of copper and gold underneath, a living flame. And although his crown seemed to be made of nothing more substantial than red maple leaves, it was undeniably a crown.

One who walked the way Eris did, with his poise and confidence, with a cruelly interested gleam in his golden eyes, needed little else to indicate his position, his power.

"A human," he observed, laughing softly. Hans's hands were chained behind himself, although it seemed an unnecessary step. What was the human going to do? The fae lord smiled, his features sharp and lovely, his long hair softer and lovelier still--and touched a fingertip to Hans's chest.

Immediately, the man's clothing began to smolder and burn, but the High Lord only smiled, meeting the human's eyes.

"You have, oh, twenty seconds before the flame moves through you, into your heart. Tell me what I need to know about you, human: do you offer yourself to me? Or will you be yet one more problem for me to deal with? I have several executions planned for this evening." The words elicited a rustle of surprise from the dozens of fae who had already gathered, but the High Lord gave them no notice. "It will not trouble me to add you to that list."

"You haven't? That's too bad. Cause I don't even know you," Blitz stretched, getting comfortable, "but I'd probably put you on a list. Hot chair guy, something like that." The imp was tired, his body pleasantly limp after an absurdly long and hard day, and draping himself over someone felt incredible. Granted, draping himself over an absolute stranger who may or may not want him there was questionable at best, but it sure felt nice.

Choosing not to worry about it, Blitz closed his eyes and leaned his head back over the man's shoulder, tucking his horns in comfortably against his back.

"So. If we're gonna cuddle," as if it wasn't all Blitz's ridiculous doing, "you gonna tell me your name? Mine's Blitz--the O is silent."

@doublejango

"Means you might be a little sus," Blitz said, hopping directly into the guy's lap, "but someone thinks you're fucking doable."

"Luckily I haven't seen my name anywhere, yet." He chuckles watching as the imp climbed on his lap. It did kind of catch him off guard though he didn't object.

per discussions with @doublejango

To some, it is a horror to behold, revolting to imagine or encourage. To them, it is a custom; a ritual, a gifting, and a statement of devotion.

Blitz on more than one occasion has brought the hearts of his foes [ and those bold enough to attempt flirtations or courtship towards Stolas ] to him. Some are left upon the doorstep whilst he carries on with his next hunt or adventure, others are hand-delivered. While Stolas does not keep every heart brought to them, they do take care to keep a great many of them. He uses different methods to preserve or otherwise craft them into something decorative for their home. Some are merely placed into enchanted cases, set on display for visitors to behold. They may not be his own kills, but Stolas takes pride in them, happy to explain in clear and vivid detail the memory of Blitz bringing it to him.

The very first heart every gifted to them has been carefully preserved and encased in a polished onyx box lined with wine-red velvet and small, black satin pillow for it to rest upon. It does not require a key, but is locked using a special mechanism. It is among one of his most prized possessions, and the only heart which is not openly on display for just anyone to see. This one is kept within their private chambers upon the vanity.

One of his favorite things to say or have said to Blitz is: "I would have died happily with your claws wrapped around my beating heart, bleeding for your volatile affections."

Well, shit. Being immediately confronted by a sexy stable-hand with a sword wasn't exactly the welcome Blitz was hoping for to this world, but he could work with it. He took the man in at a glance--okay, two glances, there was a lot to like there--as he stepped out from around a corner.

"Oh, you know. Just your worst nightmare," he growled, a grin spreading across his face, absurdly sharp teeth glittering--but when a horse leaned over and lipped at one of his horns, Blitz lost all of his bullshit attitude and completely, completely forgot about the handsome man he could have had a wonderfully homoerotic fight with. Because this! This was a real horse! An actual horse! Not a fire-breathing, flesh-eating, razor-claw-having Hellsteed, but a horse-horse! Eyes lighting up, he turned to start petting the creature, making happy little sounds as it snuffled right back.

Wait. Guy. Asshole, don't forget about the guy, Blitz thought, while cooing at the horse about how beautiful and perfect it was, and what a good doggy, and did it know it had the best hooves in all the world? Trailing off, he looked over his shoulder at the human again, then sighed and stopped petting the horse.

Holding his hands more or less up, Blitz walked closer. "Don't worry. I'm not here for you. I mean, maybe I am, you match the description, but not the location. So just put down the sword, nice and easy--unless you wanna do some gay shit, which I mean, I'm always here for that--and relax. I'm looking for Caleb. He broke some woman's heart, hurt her so badly that she's given up on hope. And that's what got me called in." He had been hired by the Duke of Loss, a powerful Ars Goetia, who had felt the wife's heartache across the multiverse and been moved by it, but that seemed like more information than really needed to be shared right now.

"So, what's it gonna be, Sexy Claws? You gonna get in my way? Or you gonna tell me where that fucker is so I can kill him and get outta here?"

Hans was snoring on the stables when he heard some noise in the nearby bushes, he came out, hand on the hilt of his sword "Halt!" he commands

"Who's there?" He looked bedraggled, after a year of working as a stable boy he had aged two, he went from prince charming to prince charmingly rugged. Full beard, fuller arms, more toned chest, and shorter temper.

He thought this was another of his brother's jokes and was ready to retaliate.

@doublejango

Eris hadn't expected him to yield so quickly.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but not this. Defiance, useless hissing and posturing, threats, or maybe weeping? But the way Hans simply gave in, agreed and gave himself over? That struck a chord in the High Lord, because he recognized it. With a sudden pang of pain--familiar pain, old, a memory that left its secret scars--he recognized that adaptability, the drive to do whatever it took to survive.

He knew--he had been there.

Eris immediately absorbed the heat that had begun gathering in Hans's chest, easing away any trace of the burn that might have been starting, and rested his palm against the now-bare skin instead, standing far too close to him.

Mine. My human. The realization was a sobering one, for even as the human now belonged to him, if Eris accepted him? He would belong to the human in return. He would be bound to protect him, should someone else threaten him--although, in a darkly twisted irony, Eris himself would be able to do whatever he pleased to the human.

His human.

His survivor.

"Remove the chains," he told a guard, without ever looking away from the human's eyes. "And very well. Tell me your name."

As long as you belong to me, I will defend you. Let the monsters come for you; I will fight for you. But I will never, never tell you that.

Stay ever at my side, and you will be safe. So long as you are mine.

"Yes" The man didn't even hesitate.

20 seconds was an awfully short time and everything that had happened to him had happened so quickly it felt surreal. He wished now he had listened to his brother and read more stories about the mythos out there, he had been a nonbeliever in anything and everything magical until he met Elsa and was somehow struck by lightning twice in life running into magic twice it had to mean something, right?

But he was aware no god or deity would come to his aid, at least he was consistent that way. He knew was on his own, always has been, and unknowingly he echoed the lord's thoughts.

What was he to do? In the face of bounds and magic?

Choosing to live now, he swallowed hard hoping he would at least have that decision in his hands later if he came to regret his decisions but Hans knew, he just knew the world wasn't the fastest or the strongest, it was of those who could adapt themselves better to the circumstances, and that was Hans' strongest suit, he had survived Ulrich, his father, he had survived Arendelle. He would survive this somehow.

"I give myself to you, uh... my lord" he tries with the first title that comes to his head.

His palms were sweaty, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute and he was sure his eyes were wide like saucers.

He was terrified. Yet Hans' will was that of the strongest steel. He would do what it takes to survive. Even if at this moment, it was painful or demeaning.

DJ just leaving this to let you know you are incredible

sshhhh, come here, i love you friend. mine now <3