When home alone, Y/N has a strange encounter with a man claiming to be a television god, who grants her the ability to enter her favorite show, Black Butler. However, what he didn't tell her is that this power is much more than it seems... wHaT cAn...
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I did what I could to help clean up the tears on Ash's back, where I had stolen his wings. It appears they did not fully heal before I turned him human. I wasn't a medical expert, but I wasn't completely clueless on what to do. First and foremost, I peeled off all the layers covering his torso to get to the injuries and bent his unconscious body over for a clear view at his back.
That's definitely going to scar. Wetting a rag, I dabbed around the injury to clean up the blood, feeling his body flinch and his breath hitch from how much every touch hurt. I was sure to be gentle. He'll need stitches and disinfectant. I think there's also healing cream for the bruising I could use. I find the first-aid-kit and get to work, trying to keep my hands steady as I tried to close up the wounds one stitch at a time. At some point, he stirs, groaning as he opened his eyes with a few blinks. He raised his head and winced before looking around in a haze.
"Where... Where am I?" His normally smooth voice had turned raspy as he shuffled like he was about to stand up. Grabbing him by the shoulder, I forced him to sit back down.
"Don't move. I'm almost done." He turned to me in shock only to bite down on his teeth when the pain of his back flared. "And be careful. I don't want to have to stitch these back up again."
"What is this place?" He asked again, making me sigh.
"It's complicated to explain the whole thing, especially since I'm sure your brain is half fried," I joked, speaking lightly to show I wasn't so upset with him anymore. I was, but I had gotten most of my anger out. No point in shouting at him when he's hardly able to comprehend his surroundings. "You're in my home. Well, my parents' home to be exact." I felt it was best to hold back on the whole TV show situation for now.
"It hurts," he states, curling over his knees and squeezing them tight as his face contorted like he had never felt anything so intense before.
"Sucks when you don't have the ability to quickly heal yourself, doesn't it?"
"Why are you helping me?" It was a reasonable question. After all, I had battered him pretty badly and was obviously very angry.
"What point is there in turning you human if you die right after?" I reply, picking up the roll of gauze so I could wrap it around his torso. "Lift your arms up a bit." He didn't fight me on it, just raised his arms as though they weighed a ton, trembling. He noticed these odd changes and voiced them.
