outofbeauty. Just look at how gorgeous Rangiku’s FC is.
A persimmon if he behaved? Consider him a saint as of three seconds ago——…no, no, he wouldn’t hold out hope for Rangiku to smuggle food in for him again, she was doing enough for him as it was, what with the healing and constantly checking in on him, saving him from getting executed, and—well, saving him. Expecting anything else from her would only add to his overwhelming debt to her.
All wavering ceased as stability steadied him from swaying any further. The pain in his back was mild in comparison to the ripping sting he endured earlier—yet, the unpleasant sensation of broken glass rippling through the marred muscles that made up his back kept him from moving any further. Sitting up was the most he’d be able to do without stepping out of his current limitations. So he complied with Rangiku’s suggestion of relaxing with a quiet bow of his head (yes, he had been through a lot today, but so had she the minute she stepped into his cell—) Dirtied fingers promptly tangled into equally sullied silver strands as the action brought another bout of tingling dizziness. It’d dismiss itself in a couple of minutes, hopefully.
“…’s alright, jus’ poundin' an awful lot.” And still bleeding a little against his palm. The medics must not have considered the wound on his temple terrible enough to heal (and it wasn’t when lined up against his other injuries) but it still packed a mighty punch once all other aches were moderately muted. Upon reflecting further…there wasn’t much that could be done even if they had given it their attention; head injuries were tricky. Luckily enough his wasn’t severe enough to go beyond an uncomfortable throb. And he could still talk, so there was that.
Squinting still, he lifted his head again from its lowered position and adjusted to the movement with a shift of his posture. He kept his palm pressed to his temple and curled his fingers within his hair all the while, but his arm relaxed a bit more along with the rest of him and his back greatly appreciated him taking her words to heart. After all, if he moved around too much he’d open everything back up—so it was best if he listened to Rangiku and stopped pushing himself.
“Think the guards’ll let us wash off—they seemed pretty quick ta pull back on them rules before…” Gin leaned closer, voice lowering, as he whispered about the men guarding his cell to the Lieutenant. He grinned. “… jus’ give’em a stern look an’ they’ll bend, ‘m sure.”
Concern was running rampant through her as she watched him clutch at his head. There was no doubt about it, he had a concussion. Were they going to properly monitor him throughout the night to make sure nothing serious went wrong? She doubted that. Her stomach turned somewhat — maybe she could convince the guards to let her watch over him just to make sure that he made it through the night okay…
"I’ll get you something for your head after you get cleaned up." She’d steal it if she had to, because something told her the nurses weren’t going to be a-okay with her asking for some medication for a criminal they’d probably been expressly ordered not to help in any way.
A grin mirroring the one on his lips appeared on hers as he whispered to her about persuading the guards. They were quite easy to bend to her wills, not that they realized that. Then again, Rangiku hadn’t met a man that was capable of denying her what she wanted — Gin was an exception. He always had been. The amount of times she’d tried and failed to get him to do something for her (
or to her) were impossible to count.
"If the stern look doesn’t work, I’ll just have to switch to batting my lashes at them. They really won’t stand a chance then.”
The Lieutenant glanced towards the men in question — they truly didn’t know what they were getting into with having her as a constant visitor. Oh well, she thought, they’ll learn soon enough — but it’ll be too late then.
"I’ll be right back. Don’t move."
With that, she stood and made her way over to the bars of his cell, reaching through them to give one of the guards a tap on the shoulder to catch his attention.
"Hi, quick question — would it be possible for you to let him out of his cell long enough to go to the showers? He needs to be washed of all the blood and dirt on him or else his wounds are going to get infected.”
It sounded like a request, but they didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Either they let him out to go get cleaned, or they’d just have to endure her until they gave in and said yes. They were in a lose-lose situation while she had her grip secured on the complete opposite, and they weren’t going to make her let go.
Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby
CL came to kill (x)
outofbeauty. If everyone could take a few minutes out of their day to watch this very important video of Rangiku’s FC you won’t regret it.
|Title: Timber / Counting Stars MASHUP|
Artist: Sam Tsui
Played: 128745 times
everything that kills me is going down
“…Mhm, one’f those fancy kinds——or better yet, wouldn’t care’f it was a persimmon instead,” he replied, his mouth watering slightly at the mention of his favorite food (just one would do, after so long—…) and quietly worked at tilting his head up from its side to maintain eye contact.
Ruffled enough as it was—his hair managed to not be too obstructive (but maybe it was best if it was, he couldn’t remember the last time he kept his eyes open in front of someone else for this long…but he wasn’t sure closing them and risking sleep was the best plan; didn’t he have a concussion?) Absently, he wondered how far off from azure his eyes had become with the dullness of sleep and pain clouding their skies. And how far off from silver those matted strands across his face and gaze happened to be at this point. Dyed crimson, perhaps?
This offered and apparently ‘luxury’ (he huffed a chuckle at that) shower was sounding nicer and nicer by the second as he became more aware of his all-encompassing dirtiness. Months of being left to essentially rot in confinement hadn’t served him too well, and the combination of the dried blood from his wounds worked as a lovely addition, no doubt. Was any of him left unscathed? Unsullied? Unlikely.
Nonetheless, appearances aside—things were leveling back out. Rangiku was smiling again; the sight of it temporarily quelled all twitching aches that plagued him. He’d forgotten the aura of her happiness shortly after leaving from her grasp, a newly branded traitor, to the deserts of heartbreak. While he was certain she had managed to smile some time in between his betrayal of her trust and where they were now…it still felt all the more genuine than whatever she could have conjured beforehand. He knew her. She was like him in that respect—they both wore masks. Hers, of course, was easily removable and caused no real harm unlike his. He digressed.
Their banter helped him relax and her soothing touches brought all tension to an end. For now—they could both breathe easier. The Fourth Division members both finished their work, a glow surrounding his extended limb with gentle care. At first he wasn’t sure if he needed to withdraw from softly clutching at Rangiku’s palm in order for their healing to properly spread along the shattered bone—however, after some thought, he figured it was best if he stayed completely still for them. Moving, no matter its sluggishness, might startle the edgy medics and that was entirely justified.
Bone mostly mended (some sensitivity still remained), Gin quietly nodded to the two shinigami with silent gratitude as they packed their things and went for the door. One strayed behind, informed Rangiku of Gin’s status and of any concerns they held (none of his current wounds were devastating, though his back would certainly need attention; change the bandages frequently, check for signs of infection, etc.) then promptly left with their partner with a bow.
Several notes of silence sang, then ended as Gin let out a drawn breath—sighing—before testing his arm by pulling it from the other’s grasp. He moved to sit up, the rags of his clothes sticking to him even still, and swayed as the room spun around him due to his change in position. Gripping at his head, he waited, squinted, then spoke.
“Hey…mind’f I take ya up on that cleanin’ offer?” Just getting him there would do the trick. Gin would do the rest.
"I think that could be arranged — as long as you behave.” Sure it was a bit of a threat — but only slightly. The teasing tone of her voice greatly outweighed whatever seriousness that could be conveyed through her words. The smile on her lips remained steadfast, even when she got a good view of his eyes. They were such a rare sight, and here she was only noticing them now. But could anyone blame her? She’d been a bit too caught up on the fact that he’d just been tortured to catch sight of his azure gaze.
Their hue was surely dulled from what she remembered, although that was to be expected. Rangiku swore to herself then that she would bring that beautiful vibrancy back to his eyes just as she’d bring a genuine grin to his lips — one just as permanent as the fake one he’d worn through almost all their years together. She’d make him happy — she’d show him what it was like to really live. No lies, no betrayal, no abandonment. Just love and happiness. God knows he needed it badly.
She’d become lost in thought by the time the two healers finished their work on him, and she snapped out of her reveries long enough to thank them for their help and to be informed of his condition. They wouldn’t have any grand horror story to bring back to their comrades, and for that she was glad. Gin hadn’t done a single thing wrong the entire time — not even a finger had been lifted against either of them. Relief was a very prevalent emotion for her at the moment.
Her attention was drawn by his sudden movements, and she frowned upon realizing that he was attempting to sit up. While the medics had told her that he wasn’t in any serious danger, she still didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be moving around so soon after being mended.
"— Not at all. But don’t you want to relax for a minute first? You’ve been through a lot today."
Of course he could always relax in the showers, but she was aware of the toll it would take on him just to get him there on a ‘good' day — and with him in such unstable condition…She was hesitant, to say the least.
“— And how’s your head? It must hurt.” Just like the rest of him, she thought with an internal sigh. The punishment squad had had no mercy on him whatsoever.
why do you hide your claws, child?
you have lions in your heart.
bare your teeth;
& do not go g e n t l e.
you have an inferno in your soul,
a melody in your bones.
r i s e, warrior. do not be afraid.
you are conquering.
& you will be amazing some day.