AELENIST

I confuse instinct for desire - isn't bite also touch? Natalie Diaz

[aelenist]

Hello !! I’m Aelen, I’m 17 and I have the biggest passion for writing ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ my biggest dream is to be published one day and that’s why I will be sharing snippets of my work on this blog.

(I write mostly fantasy and gothic fiction + some poems)

Welcome to my blog☀️

🎧 - Seven Devils, Florence + the Machine

📚- one dark window, black butler, the poppy war

[aelenist]

[aelenist]

Dante and Virgil in Hell, William Adolphe Bouguereau (1850)

Excerpt from prologue :

Death does not knock. She comes unannounced, barging in brutally and leaving behind an inert body. Adanna never expected death to leave behind her father’s corpse, sprawling in the middle of their great chamber, letting his putrid scent spread through their little household. No blood and no disease — just gone. This is what alcohol did to a man — or so the old lady living on the street used to say. How could Adanna have known she was right ? No one ever listens to the blather of the seniles.

A deceased man could not speak anymore, could not lie, nor drink, nor hit. The only thing her father could do was lie there on the ground with vacant eyes, facing the ceiling, his mouth partially open, emanating a breath that held no warmth. The overwhelming smell lingered in every corner, clinging to her hair and the dying plants. There was only one reason why she hadn’t gotten rid of the body sooner : a need, sharp and gnawing, was driving her mad.

Rotting flesh is bitter, Adanna realised— far too late, after a few days.

Kneeling in the mud, retching the sour tang of decay still clinging to her tongue, she cursed the moment her teeth had sunk into cold flesh, driven by an odd curiosity, urging and impossible to justify. Patience always made for finer meat— or so she thought. But, Death was imminent and thus it demanded immediate consumption.

Thought ?

[nondelphic]

THE WORDS AREN’T WORDING. THE PLOT ISN’T PLOTTING. THE CHARACTERS?? THEY’VE UNIONIZED. I’M GOING TO SCREAM.

[aelenist]

St. Clara orando en el coro de San Damián, José Benlliure y Gil 

As they gather to pray, voice humming with holiness, the devil on my shoulder will whisper louder than their hymns :

"Take ! Take ! Take !

Make her yours !"

And I want ! Want ! Want !

- Aelenist

My character study

[ofstarsandbone]

Prologue

It took thirty seconds for the alarm to start shrieking after the doors were opened. A single shrill, piercing note repeated throughout the white mirror-walled complex as the sterile hallways filled with people. Children and teenagers stumbled out of their rooms in the dark hospital gown garments, frantic-eyed.

A kid dressed differently from the others in the near militaristic uniform of the Institute’s staff, sprinted down the reflective linoleum with purpose. Their thick-heeled combat boots pounded loudly against the floor in alteration with the alarm as they swung themselves around a corner with a half abandoned follow me gesture.

It hadn’t taken the older gowned teenagers long to catch on to what was happening as they ushered the younger kids out in front of them, urging them to follow the uniformed kid still bolting through the labyrinthine institute. They were getting out. The kid was breaking them out.

Guards in heavy white uniforms stormed into the hallway, their masks matching the mirrored walls reflected the crowd of faces. Doctors rushed in after them, their hands outstretched toward the soldiers pleadingly as one shouted, “Stop! We still need them!”

The uniformed kid looked over their shoulder with wide eyes as they watched the soldiers ignore the doctors’ orders and aimed down the crowd of escapees, firing upon the hall without hesitation. Indistinguishable shouting, shattering glass, echoing gunshots. Teenagers and children crumpled to the floor in dark bloodied heaps.

Desperation and urgency clawed at the uniformed kid’s throat as they clenched their jaw. They were supposed to get the others out—as many of them as they could. What good would it be if they all died before they ever got to the door?

Get them out. Get them out. Get. Them. OUT.

They threw themselves around a corner, the momentum of the movement slamming them into the opposite wall with a pained gasp as they slid across the slick floor. Adrenaline sent them careening to their feet again, looking at the unharmed teenagers in the new hallway, they hoped they’d all catch on as they launched into another sprint. Power itched under their skin, sung in their head until it drowned out the sounds of people dying in the hallway they’d just left.

Blood-spattered gowned teenagers and children staggered into the hallway behind the kid desperate and panicked. The uniformed kid sighed at the sight, their stomach turning at the sound of more gunshots, and they pushed their altered body to its limit. They dug their boots farther into the ground, pushing themselves faster, farther, please. Electricity crackled above them, the fluorescent lights popping with the overcharge before the corridor was thrown into darkness. Surprised shouts echoed behind them as the uniformed kid kept their pace.

Whipping themselves around the last nearly identical corner the kid’s breathing stuttered at the sight of their goal. A blinking electrical panel next to a large industrial loading-dock door beckoned them closer. Come on, faster. You’re almost there. You need to get some of them out.

Click, click, click.

The rhythmic tapping of high heels on the complex’s hard flooring broke through the white noise in the uniformed kids’ head. Shit. Fear froze their limbs, their foot catching on the back of their calf sending them crashing to the floor in a pained mass. They slid until they collided with the far wall with a resounding bang, their spine screaming with the impact.

“I feel,” the Doctor’s honeyed voice called as she slowly sauntered over to the kid, “like you know better, Alter.”

The kid—Alter—whimpered, pulling themselves to their knees, their eyes never raising higher than the woman’s knees. Her heels continued to clack with her leisurely pace down the adjoining hall toward them, her hands in her long, pristine lab coat.

Alter pushed themselves to their shaking feet, the panel not a foot behind them. “Please.” The word was broken, whispering horribly out of their throat with disuse as they twisted, their bruised spine cracking with the effort and they slammed their hand on the lock-panel. “Come on, you bastard, work.”

Electric sparks lit up underneath Alter’s palm, cracking along their fingers as the panel beeped and the door swung open with a screech. The alarm tone echoed through the speakers outside the complex walls and Alter turned, watching as the escapees came rushing toward them. 

They rushed through the doors and Alter watched the tear-stained, blank faces in a blur. Faceless guards continued to fire on them, rifle shots slicing through bodies that crumpled to the ground lifeless in front of Alter. Inhuman. Cruel.

A young olive-skinned girl, no older than twelve holding the hand of an older girl, locked eyes with Alter for a moment as she ran by. Bright blue eyes and matching faint electric veins. A successful experiment. Alter watched as she was pushed out by the older girl leaving Alter there.

They sighed as the last lucky few people escaped through the institute doors and their knees finally gave out. With a metallic thud they hit the ground, a sharp pain shooting up their unaltered left leg.

“Well, now we’re behind schedule,” the Doctor said, coming to a stop next to Alter’s shivering side. Her eyes were fixed on the backs of the dwindling children. 

“I can’t say I’m necessarily surprised, but I must ask: was this really worth it?” she asked, looking down at Alter.

Alter stared down the corridor littered with dead kids and blood pooling along white laboratory floors before slowly lifting their eyes to look up at the Doctor. Cold brown eyes and plastered sickly-sweet smile made their stomach twist nauseatingly, and Alter couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it.

[literaryvein]

L. V., i found this poem tracing random patterns on the seashore with a paper-cut finger

[halimamis]

Pro tip for writing dark academia

If your characters aren't constantly teetering between existential dread and caffeine overdoses, you're doing it wrong. They should be reading obscure philosophers at 3 a.m, surviving on cold coffee and nihilism, and possibly questioning if the library is secretly a portal to another dimension. Dark academia thrives on atmosphere—so think moody libraries, candle-lit debates, and every conversation feeling *slightly* like it's leading to a duel. Just remember: brooding is a lifestyle, not a phase.

[halimamis]

Okay here are actual helpful tips

1. Set the Scene with Detail: Picture ivy-covered walls, dusty libraries, and stacks of antique books that look a little too haunted. Describe your setting like it’s a character—its history, its atmosphere, the way the light filters in, or even the eerie creaks in the wood floors.

2. Play with Moral Ambiguity: Dark academia characters aren’t saints. They’re smart, driven, and willing to break rules, but often at a cost. Give them vices and secrets. Let their ambition or desire for knowledge lead them into some morally gray decisions. Flaws make them fascinating.

3. Intellectual Dialogue: Dark academia characters should sound like they’ve just come out of an intense philosophy debate. Mix in quotes from old literature, references to art, or discussions about life’s "meaning" (or lack thereof). They don’t always have to understand what they’re saying, but they should sound like they do.

4. Slow Burn Plotting: Build tension with subtle, creeping suspense rather than nonstop action. Mystery, secrets, and slowly unraveling motivations all fit perfectly. Let the atmosphere build, and give your readers room to get absorbed in the strange beauty of it all.

5. Internal Conflict: Give your characters a reason to be tortured souls—personal guilt, a hidden trauma, a rivalry that’s gone on way too long. Let them struggle with themselves and ask the big questions, even if there’s no answer.

Simply, Dark academia is about beautiful melancholy and the pursuit of knowledge, but with an edge.

[aelenist]

#day1 : sharing random quotes from my book

[aelenist]

Hare with young, oil on panel, Henriette Ronner-Knip (1821-1909)

Whoosh, whoosh. This is, now, the time when sun holds its highest place in the sky. this is when you step through the warm field of blooming poppies, lily sprouts, and tulip buds.

On this path of nurturing life, growth awaits you, welcomes vitality. Make a wish for a spark of life. Whether you seek a bountiful harvest, the blossoming of youth or fertility, The path of the hare leads you to the temple. Encounter his effigy. Offer him your devotion. Present your prayer.

When your wishes align with nature’s rhythm, only the hare can satisfy it. Always leave offerings—young fruit trees, tender buds or fresh herbage—to display your gratitude.

- Aelenist

(Context : snippet of a story with different types of gods with different utility. Please give feedback !)

[aelenist]

My story’s moodboard

[aelenist]

The nymph caught the dryad in her arms, by Harold Robert Millar (1904)

On your skin, woody bark,

Confusing your carmine for sap,

Coming out of your tree,

Divine-like creature

In your coat of nudity.

Pulsing tree,

Shaggy leaves,

Where does your heart bloom ?

Nymph, lead me,

Nymph, carry me,

Nymph, show me,

To your hollow - let me come.

Please, allow me to fathom

What cloaks your core.

Is it flesh or forest’s breath?

- aelenist

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words to describe blood without saying crimson or blood?

Blood—the fluid that circulates in the heart, arteries, capillaries, and veins of a vertebrate animal carrying nourishment and oxygen to and bringing away waste products from all parts of the body

Arterial - relating to or being the bright red blood present in most arteries that has been oxygenated in lungs or gills

Body fluid - a fluid or fluid secretion (such as blood, lymph, saliva, semen, or urine) of the body

Carmine - a vivid red

Cerise - a moderate red

Claret - a dark purplish red

Clot - a coagulated mass produced by clotting of blood

Cruor - obsolete: the clotted portion of coagulated blood

Ensanguine - to make bloody; crimson

Geranium - a vivid or strong red

Gore - blood, especially: clotted blood

Hematic - of, relating to, or containing blood

Hematoid - resembling blood

Hemoglobin - an iron-containing respiratory pigment of vertebrate red blood cells that consists of a globin composed of four subunits each of which is linked to a heme molecule, that functions in oxygen transport to the tissues after conversion to oxygenated form in the gills or lungs, and that assists in carbon dioxide transport back to the gills or lungs after surrender of its oxygen

Hemoid - resembling blood

Ichor - a thin watery or blood-tinged discharge

Incarnadine - bloodred

Juices - the natural fluids of an animal body

Maroon - a dark red

Plasma - the fluid part of blood, lymph, or milk as distinguished from suspended material

Puce - a dark red

Ruddle - red ocher (i.e., a red earthy hematite used as a pigment)

Russet - a reddish brown

Sanguine - bloodred; consisting of or relating to blood

Scarlet - any of various bright reds

Vermilion - any of various red pigments

More: Word Lists ⚜ Blood ⚜ Exsanguination ⚜ On Blood

[aelenist]

Beautiful POC women for your fantasy universe

@/rechelcamille // Amita Suman // Shu Qi // Malika El Maslouhi

[aelenist]

Henri De Toulouse Lautrec - Dévotion: les deux filles (1895)

Sweet slumber,

I shall not disturb.

Delicate,

Your dream, I pray,

That you long for me in them ;

That I appear to you,

Dear to your soul,

Found as a Man.

-aelenist

[aelenist]

2ha characters as random quotes