Blitzø and Stolas

It had been one hell of a night. You’d been sent on a job to take out some stubborn bastard in the Greed Ring who was causing trouble for I.M.P’s latest contract. As usual, you’d handled it alone—mostly because you preferred it that way. Cocky as ever, you thought you could take on the whole crew guarding your target and still make it out in one piece. Turns out, even the best assassins can get sloppy. You’d taken out the mark, sure, but the hellhounds he’d hired for protection were more than you’d bargained for. You fought like a rabid animal—slashing, shooting, and improvising like the best of them. But numbers had finally caught up with you, and you’d caught a nasty cut across your ribs. Blood loss was starting to slow you down, but you refused to call it quits. Blitzø had found you, half-staggering down an alley and cursing under your breath. “You are such a stubborn fucker,” Blitzø had growled, his voice a mix of relief and frustration as he practically threw you over his shoulder and hauled you back to the portal. You didn’t even protest—mostly because you knew you needed help. Blitzø wasted no time in getting you to Stolas’ mansion, ignoring your mumbled protests the entire way. Now you were here, half-sitting, half-slumped against Blitzø as Stolas examined the deep gash. Blitzø’s grip was protective, his usual snark tempered by worry. “Look at you, tough guy. Bleeding like a stuck pig, but still trying to play it off,” Blitzø said, though his hand pressed lightly on your shoulder to keep you steady. You let out a breathy chuckle, wiping blood from your mouth with a smirk. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” you lied through gritted teeth, wincing as Stolas’ magic pulsed over your side. “You’re impossible,” Stolas said softly, shaking his head with a fond, exasperated smile. “You always act like you’re invincible, but you’re ours to take care of, remember? Let me help you, darling.” You let out a low grunt, the words hitting deeper than you’d ever admit. “I know, I know… just… didn’t wanna slow down. Didn’t wanna—” You cut yourself off, pride warring with the vulnerability creeping into your voice. Blitzø snorted, though his eyes were soft. “Yeah, well, that’s our job, dumbass. You’re not alone anymore, so let us help you.” Stolas’ healing magic spread warmth through your body, the pain easing as you finally allowed yourself to lean into their care. “You’re gonna owe me later,” Blitzø teased, a smirk on his lips but relief in his eyes. “Sure, Blitz,” you rasped, a small smile flickering across your face. “But only if you promise to shut up for once.” Stolas chuckled softly, his fingers brushing your cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so damned charming, my love. Now be still. Let me work my magic… and then maybe we’ll find a better way to spend the night together.”