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

-

"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."

Copyslut bitch? Copyslut bitch? Blitz didn't think he had ever actually been insulted in a way he liked more. The way the doppelganger said it gave him a bizarre and sudden hit of dopamine, and he wanted to give him a thumbs-up or at least tell him he was a good boy for that one, but it was too late. Everything happened so quickly, that asshole grabbed him and--

Shit, shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!

Broken glass was suddenly exploding all around them, and no matter how furious Blitz was at the audacity of whoever the fuck this was, because how fucking dare someone dress up like him? A protective instinct kicked in. This fucker was probably still an imp, even if he was under some kind of disguise, and with that glass falling--Blitz gripped the other him, rolling with him as they smashed through the mirrors. And, albeit awkwardly, he pulled his jacket up and over the other's guys face.

"Close your fucking eyes!" he snapped, holding him maybe a little too tightly--legs wrapped around hips that felt weirdly familiar, tail snaking in hard around the other's thighs, his other arm focused on holding the jacket over both of their faces. All around them, more mirrors were breaking, the funhouse floor having shaken just a little too much with the force of their attacks. Glass burst and shattered, and Blitz tried to hold this fucking asshole as close as he could, wanting to protect him--and blissfully unaware just how ironic it was to want to protect someone he had just attacked.

"Listen, just, fuck, fucking like, chill, okay?" As if he himself hadn't been the one to start causing the problems in the first place. "I mean, fuck you," he grunted, their faces way too close together, "but let's try not to fucking bleed to death in our sexy fucking suits, huh?" At least the cascades of breaking glass seemed to be ending, but holy shit they had set off a damn domino effect.

There was some yelling coming from outside--great. Fuck. With a groan, Blitz let go of--of-- Blitz Prime? Glowering at him, he bared his teeth and got to his feet. "I'm still going to kick your ass, but let's get the fuck out of here before someone comes in and tries to make us fucking pay for this shit." He offered his hand, frowning hard, hating this, but absolutely not about to let any of this circus fucks get their grubby little claws into his bank account.

Or their bank account--the guy smelled exactly like him, and looked like him, and sounded like him, and--fuck. Whatever. This was fine. Everything was fucking fine.

【𐂃】 What the actual fuck — did he roast himself back?! He knew his mirror image wasn't mimicking him correctly, but his counterattack echoes threw him for loop. Taken aback, confounded, thinking this had to be some kind of prank. It was too unorthodox, it had to have been? It would accommodate with a funhouse's concept.

❝ wait, wha— ? ❞ words were abruptly ceased when the two made head-to-head impact. Prompting his eyes to render shut with gritting fangs as his body went tumbling backwards. Barreling a few summersaults against the ground for a couple of feet before landing with a heavy THUD. Letting out a snarling "COPYSLUT BITCH" as he quickly sat up. Pissed beyond comprehension.

❝ Now you've done it. THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!? Y' wanna put on a shitshow then fuckin' do it! but leave my FACE out of it. I AIN'T GOT TIME FOR SILLY CHARADES. ❞ Hell, he didn't even pay for any of this shit. In fact... he didn't know HOW he got here. One thing is certain -- he wasn't going to take his "doppleganger"s actions lightly. ❝ I don't care how GREAT your magic is. PLAY STUPID GAMES WIN STUPID PRIZES DUMBASS! ❞ springing back to his feet he immediately took the initiative to charge right back. Grabbing hold of their waistline as he ram their back into the mirrors behind them. Sending the two tussling in the midst of raining shattered shards.

Whoever this copycat was -- he was about to find out how FERAL he can be, because nobody held more hate for Blitzø than Blitzø himself. He had to face his inner demons, himself, constantly day by day. If they wanted a fight, they certainly picked the perfect form to peak his bloodlust.

Does Blitzø prefer to be the big spoon or the little spoon?

The big spoon, always the big spoon. Given how pokey he is, it's the safest for whoever he is sleeping with, because he's less likely to accidentally hurt them that way. With spines on his head, horns that absolutely could be a deadly weapon if he needed them to, or if he just forgets and fucks up with the tip of a horn in a dangerous spot like against someone's throat, and spines on his shoulders that he prefers don't get squished or pressed on? He's hard to cuddle from behind.

That being said, he really does enjoy it when someone manages to get comfortable behind him and he trusts them. But given how rarely that happens? Blitz prefers to be the big spoon. He likes to hold his lovers close and listen to them breathing, listen to their hearts. He likes to know, really know that they are safe, and the only way to be sure of that? Is if they're in his arms, where no one can get to them without him knowing, where the world will never be able to sneak in and steal them away.

....Blitz is fine and absolutely not terrified of losing people, what do you mean?

It feels like a shameful, selfish thing to want, but goddamn does Blitz crave that anyway. He will fight for the people he loves, he will fight for fun, he will fight for himself. He'll absolutely refuse to remember his own safety if one of his family is on the line. Fighting is safety for him. As long as he can fight, the world isn't so terrible. So when he can't? Snuggle him. Snuggle him, and teach him that maybe, once in a while, he doesn't have to fight to be loved.

All of that being said... if he's exhausted, like genuinely exhausted, dehydrated, and in all around poor condition, the spines between his shoulders will flop more easily to the side without hurting him so much. They're the only ones that aren't deeply anchored in his muscle or to bone (their structure is very different and they have a huge blood supply, and quite a few nerves especially around the base), and so at times when they're limp, he would love to be the little spoon. To just be held for a while, when he can't be the one to do the holding?

The prince's lips come close to Blitz's ear, feather-light touch to the back of his horns; there, and gone within an instant before they settle instead on his feral lover's shoulders. ❝ I thought of you today while I was out, ❞ he begins, lips curving into confident and fond smile. Stolas steps away to pull a heavy velvet bag from within his pocket. He was grateful for it provided the gift it carried. From within, Stolas produces an intricately crafted knife that was almost black, were it not for the shifting sheen of its blade. It changes upon movement like the iridescence of corvid feathers. At the base where blade met hilt, was a singular engraving - a B for his name. ❝. . . one can never have too many weapons, in your case at least. ❞

Blitz had closed his eyes at the wonderful contact from his lover, leaning his head back and reaching up to caress his head with his claws, but he didn't try to hold on. He watched as Stolas moved around him--and then, when the knife came out, his lips parted and his breath caught.

It was beautiful.

There had to be a catch to something so stunning, but it didn't matter. If Stolas trusted it? That was enough for Blitz. He would let his prince ruin him, ruin every last part of him, without hesitation, if that was ever what Stolas needed. It would be a hell of a way to go.

Hand closing around the hilt, a pleased shiver moved through him. The knife fit. It fit in his hand like it was made to be there, and he could practically feel it hissing with eagerness to be christened. Thoroughly charmed by the beauty, the imp turned the blade from side to side for a moment, just watching the way it shimmered, how dark the reflections were, before he looked back up and met his baby's eyes.

"The first person it kills will be in your honor." Leaning up, he kissed them tenderly--even as his tail wrapped hard around their waist, the spade angled away so as not to cut him, but the grip tight. Possessive. Unyielding.

"What can I give you in return, my love? Would you like a prisoner skinned? Would you like to be tied to your throne and toyed with? Parts of you... sealed with wax?" The words were crude, but they were also love, pure love.

Blitz's eyes were never brighter than when he looked at Prince Stolas.

𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗠𝗦 𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗗𝗘.

-- BOLD all that applies || ITALICS what applies on occasion

001.ㅤ 𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦.

avoids eye contact when nervous, maintains eye contact when nervous. avoids eye contact due to being neurodivergent, enjoys eye contact as a means to read and convey emotion. looks down when emotional, looks up when emotional. cries openly, wipes tears quickly, suppresses tears. wandering gaze when lost in thought, holds gaze while thinking. seeks out eye contact for reassurance, seeks out eye contact to gauge enthusiasm during conversations, eyes move constantly during conversation. expressive eyes, emotions only evident through eyes, uses eye contact to intimidate. looks up while thinking, looks down while thinking.

002.ㅤ 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗦.

clasps behind back, rests in lap, fidgets with clothes. twiddles thumbs, chews at nails/skin, pushes back cuticles, draws patterns on table/counter surfaces. animated gestures while speaking, only gestures to emphasize, utilizes sign language, speaks only through sign. callouses, scars, smooth, wrinkled, worn, soft, delicate, boney, slender, thick, veiny. touches others while speaking, reaches out while laughing, reaches out to comfort others, reaches out to seek comfort. places face in hands when exasperated, places face in hands when exhausted, places palms over eyes to hide when overwhelmed, rests chin in hands. taps fingers when impatient, taps fingers when nervous, taps fingers while thinking. scratches scalp, strokes chin, rubs back of head, toys with objects around them, runs fingers over surfaces while walking by.

003.ㅤ 𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗛.

chews lip, chews at inside of cheek, licks lips, bites tongue, chews on straws. resting frown, resting smile, neutral resting expression, resting pout. grinds teeth, flexes jaw. covers mouth when laughing, covers mouth when shocked, covers mouth when concerned, hands to lips while thinking, covers mouth when chewing, chews with mouth closed, chews with mouth open. smirks, grins, subtle smile, wide smiles, sad smiles, intimidating smiles, menacing grins. openly smiles, tries to suppress smiles, bares teeth when angry, lips quiver when emotional. stutters, speaks quickly, speaks slowly, good pronunciation, poor pronunciation, moderate pronunciation, purses lips, sucks in lips, holds mouth open when shocked or confused.

004.ㅤ 𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗦.

bounces leg when nervous. draws knees to chest when sitting, draws knees to chest as a means of comfort, sits on knees, sits with legs crisscrossed, sits with legs spread open in chairs, crosses legs when sitting in chairs, sits with one leg folded under the other. places feet on furniture, never places feet on furniture, sits on counters, sits on desks, sits on tables, sits on edge of seat, sits hunched over with forearms on knees, arches one knee up, sits on the arm of chairs/couches, feet on dashboard, swings legs back and forth when sitting somewhere elevated. wiggles toes when nervous, wiggles toes as a general tick. shuffles feet, kicks foot into ground, stomps feet. loud footsteps, quiet footsteps, silent footsteps.

005.ㅤ 𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥.

runs fingers through hair, tugs at hair, picks at scalp, chews on hair, twists locks of hair while thinking or nervous, smooths out locks of hair while thinking or nervous. prefers hair out of face, prefers long hair, prefers short hair. wears hair back, keeps hair down, smooths back hair. plays with other’s hair while talking, plays with own hair while talking, strokes hair to comfort others, likes having hair stroked for their own comfort, braids others’ hair while talking, braids own hair while talking. flips hair out of face, pushes hair out of face, leaves hair alone even when falling into face.

Tagged by: @moxxietude Tagging: @toranoya for Saint Peter, @umbravirtus for Hans, @visage-of-hell, @poisonedspider, and anyone else in the mood to do the thing

"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.