[If it's anything like getting swallowed by an ayakashi, Bakugo has his sympathies. Dark and gross and wet and slimy and bleck. So yeah, not the sort of repeat performance either of them probably wants. Thankfully not one they need to worry about for the moment, either. They've got team mates helping out, ready to keep the creature back while they rest and tend the wound he's incurred.
For once Yato doesn't protest being manhandled, instead taking the hint and stretching out obediently with a shaking breath. It's been a while since he's had an injury that's this bad, and he's not looking forward to the pain of fixing it up.] Ugh, right...
[Hopefully cauterizing the wound will lessen the need for a tourniquet, but for now whatever Bakugo feels up to doing is fine by him. He doesn't even mind his precious scarf being used, since it'd hardly matter if he croaks here. The pressure on his leg makes him wince, pulling away slightly before he forces himself to relax and stay still.
He's definitely gonna have to inquire about his getup, if only so he has a better idea of how it all comes off should their positions be reversed at some point. Fidgeting restlessly, Yato watches Bakugo work, wishing he could just get it over with but knowing full well that the wound should be as clean as possible to prevent any infection. Normally such matters wouldn't affect him, but he's not fully a god here. He has to be careful. So only once the heat in Bakugo's palm reaches an intense yellow, does he force himself to breath out when told to brace for it.] Mph.
["Go." He's right, though, it does hurt like seven hells worth of agony, causing Yato to writhe in pain and push his uninjured leg into the ground, body arching upward as well until he drops back down, breathing hard through his nose with his eyes screwed shut and teeth tearing into the fabric of his scarf. But at least the heat seems to be doing its job, sealing up the wound until the blood flow is mostly staunched. For a few moments Yato allows himself to just lay there and breathe, waiting for the searing pain to subside at least a little bit.]
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For once Yato doesn't protest being manhandled, instead taking the hint and stretching out obediently with a shaking breath. It's been a while since he's had an injury that's this bad, and he's not looking forward to the pain of fixing it up.] Ugh, right...
[Hopefully cauterizing the wound will lessen the need for a tourniquet, but for now whatever Bakugo feels up to doing is fine by him. He doesn't even mind his precious scarf being used, since it'd hardly matter if he croaks here. The pressure on his leg makes him wince, pulling away slightly before he forces himself to relax and stay still.
He's definitely gonna have to inquire about his getup, if only so he has a better idea of how it all comes off should their positions be reversed at some point. Fidgeting restlessly, Yato watches Bakugo work, wishing he could just get it over with but knowing full well that the wound should be as clean as possible to prevent any infection. Normally such matters wouldn't affect him, but he's not fully a god here. He has to be careful. So only once the heat in Bakugo's palm reaches an intense yellow, does he force himself to breath out when told to brace for it.] Mph.
["Go." He's right, though, it does hurt like seven hells worth of agony, causing Yato to writhe in pain and push his uninjured leg into the ground, body arching upward as well until he drops back down, breathing hard through his nose with his eyes screwed shut and teeth tearing into the fabric of his scarf. But at least the heat seems to be doing its job, sealing up the wound until the blood flow is mostly staunched. For a few moments Yato allows himself to just lay there and breathe, waiting for the searing pain to subside at least a little bit.]