Dark Red Aesthetic Novels & Stories

The only difference was that they had almost opposite aesthetics. Aubrey was the pretty, cute lady you had no idea could claw your eyes out. She represented yellow, pink and all things girly, and always had a smile on. Hazel, on the other hand, had a dark aesthetic. Wore dark colours, especially red. Always had red lipstick on. Seductive but sweet, to only the people she cared about. She was also girly, but the other kind. And she would absolutely claw your eyes out. But that was the only difference in them. Their aesthetic. They loved the same things.

Finally, I pulled my over-ear Bluetooth headphones out of my pocket and slipped them on, completely shutting out the quiet hum of the mansion. I opened my phone, swiped past the blocked notifications from Dylan without a single ounce of regret, and pulled up my absolute mess of a playlist. I needed something that matched the strange, electric energy buzzing under my skin. I pressed shuffle, and the loud, heavy beat of a Korean rap track immediately exploded in my ears, the rhythm commanding, aggressive, and fast. Perfect. I squeezed a massive dollop of deep, velvety crimson onto the palette, followed by stark ivory, midnight black, and a rich, shimmering gold. My taste in aesthetics had alwa

I crave for his touch in my sleep, in the office, whenever I set my eyes on him basically. I really really like this one, and it's so embarrassing. I rushed home to get ready because I'm very particular about how I look around that man these days. Red and black seems to get him in the certain type of deranged mood that I want him to be around me always so I've been incorporating those colors especially. I'm now more of a red lipstick girl when I've flexed nude or something lighter for years.

"This will do the trick." It's deep cherry red.

Aleena’s POV . Because of the date now, I had to unpack two of my bags and take out all the red dresses which I had with me. If I wasn’t wrong, then right then, thirty or more dress in front of me in various shades of red like Madder, Crimson, Cardinal red, Poppy red, Carmine, Spanish red, Rusty red, Chocolate cosmos, Rosewood, Imperial red, Cordovan, Fire engine red, Rose vale, Old rose, Bittersweet Shimmer, Light red, Light Coral, Garnet, Rose ebony, Chili red, Vermilion, Misty rose, Turkey red, Salmon, Cantaloupe Melon, Barn red, Blood red, Tea rose, Cinnabar, Dark red, Fire brick, Indian red, Lust, Maroon, Redwood, Scarlet, Tomato, Bittersweet, Jasper, Rosy brown, Rose taupe, Fluorescent

Darker. It was for my own selfish interests. Most of the doors were the usual colors. Soft blues for peaceful dreams, gentle greens for nature-inspired fantasies, warm yellows for happy memories. Some pulsed with brighter light, indicating particularly vivid dreams. Others were darker, showing the troubles their dreamers were processing. But one door caught my attention immediately. It was bright red. Not the soft red of roses or the warm red of sunset, but the harsh, violent red of fresh blood. The door pulsed like a heartbeat, and I could feel waves of guilt radiating from it even from across the cloudy space.

It's probably the effect of the weed, or maybe we such good friends that we make each other laugh so hard? Nah, it's definitely the weed. "I'm pink," Ashley says, continuing with this little game. "Because of my hair." She starts to play with the ends of her mostly pink hair. "I'm grey, the color that's between dark and white," Kristen says. "Because I'm the innocent one here but I'm also moving to the dark side." She starts to giggle. "You are definitely going to the dark side." Tatiana agrees with her. "I still can't believe you are a virgin though."

The one whose name my people still cursed in their prayers. But my traitorous eyes refused. They drank him in greedily tracing the corded muscles of his arms visible even beneath the armour, the way his chest rose and fell with calm, controlled breaths, the faint scar that sliced through one dark brow. He was beautiful in the way storms are beautiful terrifying and mesmerising all at once. Soren Masuda was raw power wrapped in divine grace. A strange forbidden ache bloomed low in my belly. Shame followed instantly, hot and bitter on my tongue. Stop it, Evelise. He is not yours to look at.

But it was his eyes that truly held everyone captive. A deep crimson—striking, hypnotic, and inhuman. They weren’t just red; they carried an unfathomable depth, like liquid rubies gleaming under the arena lights. They radiated an air of mystery, a gaze that seemed to see through everything. There was an intensity in them that sent a shiver down the spines of those who dared meet them. And yet, despite their inherent coldness, there was something oddly magnetic about them, drawing people in rather than pushing them away.

Be the right fuckin’ colors. Red wasn’t just red, you know? There were shades of red. But this new shit? It wasn’t right. They’d fucked it the fuck up. This red, right here, it was more brick than blood. It was too soft and orange, or something. The devil’s eyes had to pop. He wanted them to pop. With blood. Fuck it. Whatever. “Cool tats,” she’d said. It was afternoon. Late afternoon. The sun wasn’t as bright. The shadows were long. And the shop had tossed his ass out. Went around the corner to take a leak and then puke the pancakes up by a dumpster.