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#anonymous requested aesthetic
cillivnz · 11 months
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𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮 𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬 [𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭]
CHAPTER ONE —— AFTERMATH
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warnings. angst, gore descriptions, torture, mentions of death, stabbing, shooting; basically your average 14 minutes into a john wick movie.
a/n. occasionally updating the preliminaries post of this series as deemed necessary. all warnings and details would be mentioned in that post. note, this is a slow burn (emphasis on slow). i hope you enjoy reading this short chapter, i promise it’ll get better. this one’s for the anon who wanted angst, i owe it all to you, honey. <3 pardon any inaccurate translations.
notes. Rehneyr Corsioni [OC] — ex-associate of reader’s father. Edgar Corsioni [OC] — Rehneyr’s son.
TRANSLATIONS. mon ange — my angel; tenez-moi — hold me; va te faire foutre — fuck you/fuck off; “Écoute, si tu parviens à répondre, tu seras libre de vivre ce qui reste de ta vie pathétique.” — Look, if you manage to answer, you will be free to live whatever is left of your pathetic life; “Sing, pute.” — Sing, bitch; “Je ne ferais jamais ça.” — I would never do that; “Laisse moi ici,” — Leave me here;
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Clustering sounds beside you were your alarm. Your eyes fought to get adjusted to your dimly lit surroundings, in a panic, you shot up from the bed. Bed? You were uncertain of where you were, until you saw a tall figure hulking, with his back towards you. As if sensing your inquisitive eyes on him, he turned around, a solemn expression on his face, plump lips sealed tight, yet his gaze softened at the sight of you. “Good… morning.” He said shaking his head, it seemed like he wasn’t too fond of his words, considering the sun set a few hours ago. You took a moment to look down at yourself, wearing an oversized, white silk shirt, and your panties. “I took the liberty of cleaning you, I’m sorry, ange.” He was avoiding your gaze, looking at the foot of the bed. “It’s okay, Vince.” “I appreciate you.” Your voice was soft, just a whisper lingering in the breeze.
“You need to rest.” He spoke with an authoritative concern. “I can’t, I just woke up.” You let out something along the lines of a chuckle and a scoff. “Lie down.” He raised his brows, a pleading look on his handsome face. “Lie down with me.” You quirked a brow, not anticipating the flush on his cheeks to be so prominent. “If, uh, if that’s what you want, ange.” He dare not look at you while discarding his jacket, slowly climbing beside you in the queen-size bed, long legs almost swinging out of it; the long bed that sufficiently accommodated you, failed to do the same for him.
Perplexity. Life had a way of arousing it, for life is a gland and these shitty plotholes are the hormones it secrets into your bloody life. A day ago, you mourned the loss of your family, this man, one who vowed service to your father, abandoned him when he needed him the most; when you needed him the most — but he’s here now, isn’t he? You should’ve been mad, hell, he of all people knew the degree of your wrath once unleashed, but you couldn’t be mad at your Vince, not when he sank into the mattress, beside you, pressing himself against you, tauntingly gently, reluctant on whether to be a bit selfish and let his arm rest on your waist, close all humane proximity between you two, and let whatever warmth he still possessed, even if it came from the fiery depths of hell he was certain to burn in, creep onto you.
You noticed this reluctance, despite not facing him. You couldn’t, you feared what you’d do once you’d catch those ocean eyes of his staring into the depths of your soul, digging an abyss into it with his piercing gaze, creating his personal hell inside of you.
“Vincent,” you whispered. “Yes, mon ange.” His soft voice whispered. “Tenez-moi.” Finally, the hesitant arm found homage, snakes around your waist, pressing his godly body against yours. The grip was possessive, permanent, and above all, right. Nothing has ever felt so right, to both of you. In that moment you knew, Vincent would fight heaven and back for you, in your name, whatever it takes.
Amidst your sleep, you heard agonising whimpers from behind you. Both of Vincent’s hands were on your hips, like the fullness of them was comforting. “Ange,” He shivered a whimper, grip tightening around your hips, squeezing them in fear, fear of whatever horror he saw behind those eyes shut tight.
“It’s okay, Vince. I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, fingered grazing the veins on his large hands. He seemed to lean into your touch, crouching so his head could rest on your shoulder. ‘Not now, not ever.’ You meant to say, but you’re never had a way with words, a knotted tongue and a betraying body.
When morning came, so did the hellhounds. Jolting up at the sound of gunfire, your first thought was if Vincent got hurt, but not seeing him in bed with you as you’d requested, somehow, hurt more than what you’d knew a shot to the heart would. Getting up from the sheets in a frenzy, you reach for your 9mm and rush to the window. The sight below was three men circling in on one Vincent. Three armed men, and one Vincent with his weapon on the ground. You aim at the thug on the left — headshot; right, headshot, leaving the big boy with one man to knock down, a piece of cake, considering the boy was 6’4. He looked back at you, a grin plastered on his beautiful face, before he turned to the man in-front of him and tackled the shooter to the ground. “Atta boy.” You yelled out the window, before heading down to assist him.
‘Torturing’ is what an amateur would call it. You, on the other hand, say it like it is. ‘Information extraction’, it is. That’s truly how simple it is, the good ol’ human compliance, cooperation. You wouldn’t want to be a sinful Pinocchio and say you didn’t enjoy it when they didn’t, however. A challenge, hellions and rascals, and you loved brat-taming. Foreseeable, was this sight. A man stripped to the bone, tied in razor blade ropes of bondage, bleeding rivers of crimson at the hands of you and your beloved. Friend. Beloved friend.
“Tell us who sent you.” Vincent demanded, the tone of his voice was enough to snap you out of your sinister daze and let gooseflesh arise. “Va te faire foutre.” The son of a bitch had the audacity to retort. “Écoute, si tu parviens à répondre, tu seras libre de vivre ce qui reste de ta vie pathétique.” You sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose in annoyance. The bastard spitting on your face was the last straw for Vincent, who conjured a knife from an apparent holster and grabbed the perpetrator by his short hair. “If you won’t talk,” he said, slashing the man’s throat in one swift stroke, “Sing, pute.”
Fear, for the first time, as the evening sun made feeble attempts to paint the perpetrator’s etiolating face a hue of tangerine, gargling on his own blood, he managed to weakly reveal, “Corsioni,” before leaving this realm, leaving behind no legacy in a maggot’s world, but a mess for you and Vincent to clean.
Rehneyr Corsioni, an associate of your father’s. You remember talk amongst your mother and his wife of a marriage (of convenience) between you and his son, Edgar. “Je ne ferais jamais ça.” You’d scowl at the sound of his name. He had his Russian mother’s face and his Italian father’s eyes, his skin and her hair. A lethal combination, something many a woman has succumbed to in the past, but not you. You had your own plans involving a very mercurial and brooding Parisian boy. His fawn hair, his blue-green eyes; you’d decided to call the colour a shade of Turkish blue. Looking at him now, dried blood splatters tainting his face, you noticed he hasn’t changed much. He was still your Vince, right?
After ridding yourselves of the body, Vincent and you stayed outdoors, staring into the wisteria horizon; at the ravens flying into the greenery and at the bats flying north. “How are you holding up?” He asked you, breaking the silence after minutes of staring at you, a habit you’ve noticed him picking up. “All things considered…” you paused, peering into the sky as if the clouds were etched in your answers. “I’m just glad you’re with me, Vince.” You turn to him, resting your head on his shoulder.
May you be damned for finding solace in this state, but were you really to be blamed when tonight’s the first time he’s lowered his walls? Just enough for you to hop over, or sit atop them prettily. “About that,” he inched away a little, causing you to raise your head, tilting in confusion. “I think you should leave.” He spoke, his words were choked by uncertainty and his brows furrowed at how pathetic he sounded. “What?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “America. Stay there for a bit, lay low, or even find contracts. Laisse moi ici, just until things pacify.”
Pacify? What was left to assuage in this city of ruins? “Vincent, there’s nothing left for me here — for us, here.” You began reasoning, eyes flickering from his face, to his hands. When he blatantly refused to meet your gaze, you grabbed one of his hands, the whole of your hand seemingly elfin in his large ones. This act forced him to stare you down, unlike he does voluntarily, from time to time; this instance, you had to force him to look you in the eye.
“I’ve already booked a ticket, an apartment, clothes, everything— you don’t have to worry about none of that.” He tightened his hold on your hand, grabbing the other, too. “Please, Ange. I need you to do this.” He beseeched. Never had you ever seen such a pleading look on his face, agony whirling in his eyes. “For me?”
For him you found yourself on a plane to New York, tears threatening to break the dam of dignity in your eyes and flood away as you reminisce about his arms that wrapped around you the night before, and the way he leaned in but pulled away in the blink of an eye, muttering curses, unheard of by you, but the twitch of his mouth and the tearing up of his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you.
If your departure meant more to Vincent than he was letting on, why was he adamant on sending you away, and what wrath will the city of Paris go through now at the hands of a man apoplectic with provoked rage? Unfortunately, you couldn’t see for yourself, so, you let sleep cradle your being and drift off to some unconscious safe haven.
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lovehina019 · 6 days
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I am a very big fan of your content and I was wondering if you could do more posts with this aesthetic. Specifically the soft yellows and whites. 💛🤍
https://www.tumblr.com/lovehina019/744369800328921088?source=share
Here you go! 💛🤍
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dronkracuun · 10 months
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The Hearth
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@anonymous
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rose-likesto-write · 9 months
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Stray Kids moodboard
SKZ as your boyfriend- dark aesthetic
Bang Chan
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"No matter how many days went by or months or years maybe...
The spring, sunny, rainy, autumn and wintery days may pass on...
The stars, the moon and the sun may stop shining But my love for you won't stop and be ever less for you"
@shinyoafdeputyalien
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lovelettersfromdoll · 10 months
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m bored send me anons n dms ૮꒰◞ ⸝⸝⸝◟ ྀི꒱ა♡
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lgbt-aesthetics · 9 months
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Agender + Academia Aesthetic
X X X X - X X X X
~Requested by Anonymous~
[ID: a 3x3 aesthetic made up of 9 images. The first row is all in black and white, it has: a photo of an ornate magnifying glass sitting on books, a photo of a person in a tweed jacket holding a book, and an open book with a vine of ivy in it. The second row has a green-tinted picture of marble busts, an image of the agender flag, and a green-tinted photo of a marble bust with flowers arranged on it. The third row is all in black and white, it has: a photo of an ornate bookcase, glasses laying on vintage papers and photographs, and a photo of a spiral staircase in front of a tall bookcase. End ID]
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iolite-moodboards · 1 year
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Hi! Could i request for a Halloween/Autumn themed wallpaper?
Thank you! :D
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halloween/autumn wallpaper for anon
i made a few iphone screens and one desktop because i didn't know what you preferred! the desktop one looks a bit more like a greeting card than a wallpaper since i mostly work with collages
I hope you like them!!
(requests open)
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Photo
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I’m your National Anthem
for Anonymous
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scungledfiles · 1 year
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"we're very gay, and we will post about it a very gay amount" alert window? /nf :3
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hi sorry this took so long i havent been having the best time lately hgfdsfdsfafds
if u want a different dimension, font, colour combo, etc,,, let me kno
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Cancer ☼ Virgo ☽ Virgo⇡
INFJ-T
Ravenclaw
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kin-aes-blog · 4 months
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Can I get an aesthetic for a NOC +10 kin? I'm from an ARG on YouTube if you can get any info on me and my source.
please provide 2-3 colors youd like and some themes as well! i don't typically look into sources and since its an arg i cant due to health reasons. thanks!
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laesas · 1 year
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More raw-fucking blorbos for you to rate! PorscheBig, ArmTankhun, ChanKim (as famously alluded to by Mr Peter Knight himself on twitter that one time)
PorscheBig - I mean it would take a LOT of character wrangling to make happen well. Porsche isn't really the kind of authority Big respects and Big doesn't give me hatefuck-capable vibes. That being said; they are both hot sooo Hell Yeah Pull That Ponytail Boy. They should fuck in front of Kinn. He'd enjoy it. Fuck Raw Rating:🔥🔥🔥/5
ArmTankhun - This is my favourite Khun ship I am ride or die for these bitches. Despite KP having 2 bodyguards in ships they completely missed the dynamic of guard becoming their persons safe place which is the absolute SAUCE. I read a fic implying that in the finalé they didn't see VegasPete on the CCTV because they were fucking in the control room to celebrate blowing up Vegas and his goons and I'm accepting that as canon. They lose a point for wholesomeness and because Arm is too responsible to not use protection. Fuck-Raw Rating: 🔥🔥🔥🔥/5
ChanKim - Hysterical that it's Peter Knight approved I can't believe I missed that 💀 ChanVegas for people who run aesthetic blogs. I mean the age gap and implied teacher/student dynamic is problematic until you figure Kim has all the power which is capital C Compelling. Kim's star student protégé status and barely concealed need for approval meets Chan's sparse, hard earned praise. Sparring and disarming practice to put them in close proximity. Kim being a brat (a la BigKim) but actually getting put in his place. I was gonna give them 4 but I've actually talked myself into it. This slays severely actually. Fuck-Raw and get it out of your systems 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥/5
This has rapidly become my favourite ask meme of all time:
Send me your unhinged blorbo combos and I will tell you whether they should fuck raw 💌💕✨
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whetstonefires · 1 year
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Hello, could you tag your fandoms, or just tag you manga posts/reblogs as "manga"? I can't help it, I just don't like the style...
no
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dronkracuun · 10 months
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Domesticity
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@anonymous
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rose-likesto-write · 7 months
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Felix Model Boyfriend Moodboard...
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"I maybe a model, an ambassador, a rockstar, an inspiration, superstar and whatnot, capturing or stealing hearts all around the world...
But, love what about mine that you have stole and kept in captivating? I might be the heartthrob of millions but I wanna be your heartthrob and yours only, just like you are mine. TODAY ON MY BIRTHDAY, I WANNA MARK THE DAY OF US. WE BELONG TO AND WITH EACH OTHER. You are mine. Only mine..."
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lovesick-level-up · 1 year
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Greetings
May I request Some Sonia Nevermind Reply icons it can be fairycore if that's okay!
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greetings, anon! an enjoyable request, may you enjoy them.
~ mod gundham
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