Doriangray Stories

In which Dori has an obnoxious amount of Christmas spirit because I feel obligated to try my hand at a Christmas fic at least once

Dorian Gray wears so many different faces it is a wonder if any two people could ever recognise the same man

A glimpse into an artist's studio

Fresh from Basil's studio, Lord Henry takes Dorian out for a night on the town

When Dorian returned to London from his faraway travels, you instantly caught his eye. But you were engaged and had no intentions of leaving your fiancé, though he could sense you felt the same attraction to him as he did towards you. 'Dorian Gray x reader' short story written on request for my tumblr blog.

Dori is allowed to feel weird about things, as a treat

Okay, this originally was a crack ship that I came up with during swim practice. And it kind of evolved into this really strange fanfiction about two immortal dudes who wind up teaching at Hogwarts during CoS. The main pairing is an older, OOC version of Harry called Hadrian Peverell, and Dorian Gray. (Yes, that Dorian Gray.) Harry Potter still exists. FYI. Hadrian teaches Defense and Dorian teaches History of Magic. Warnings: Language, implied? sexual content, murder

For a fleeting moment, Dorian Gray could have sworn he saw a ghost

I actually uploaded this for a uni assignment but it had the most Dorian vibes so I edited it a little so I could post it here too

Sometimes I just want to put Jackaby in situations be doesn't belong because I think that's funny and I have several interests and so now I am making this everyone else's problem, as a treat

What would happen if once upon a time, when Dorian Gray was performing a ritual to sell the remaining scraps of his soul, he accidentally unleashed a demon? Basil said he'd kill him if that happened again. Luckily for Dorian, a wizard is in the vicinity, as is an elf with some experience with demons. Can Dorian get rid of the demon and still get eternal beauty?

« Why ? »

"Just wanted to try what was living after I stabbed myself."

"I close my eyes knowing everything leads to you loving you now feels like I'm trapped under my own sky a sky that once took me away from my pain turned red and bled till I was covered and you fled now no one was there to clean me up somehow it made me feel like I fucked up when I laid there hoping the rain would drown out my sorrows and some pieces of you but it took my hand and led me to you and I begged and begged for some time to find my own peace and I was afraid that I might never feel it again your love was poison, my peace was the antidote I might never have it because I can't leave your love behind as bones" he held my diary in his hands and a smirk danced on his mask his shame. Right then and there I knew that he had realized that he wasn't going to make it out of this with a whole heart. I wasn't leaving without taking a few pieces with me.

(Dorian The Musical/Dorian a rock musical-verse) Dorian and Sibyl play around with costume pieces to try and work out Dori's new look. After all, one has to look good to draw an audience!

Random assignments I had to write for school. Mostly rewrites, imaginary scenes and original work.

Dorian has to self reflect? How gross, he shall do anything but that

A fault in the canvas, yes, that would have had to be it. It was the only rational explanation that could be found there. A contamination that distorted the paint and left it to bleed out from the canvas and spoil the work itself. That must have been the case, the red seemed to be leeching out so terribly that it was staining the ground just before the picture itself. He would have liked to see if he could fix the fault before the piece was entirely beyond help, but he could not quite tell where it was the issue actually came from. A steady, rich crimson staining the time-worn threadbare of the carpet that the painting rested upon, a growing stain that must have been pouring from the painting with more of the red than he could have recalled using for the piece when he was working on it.

Maybe I wrote this to have Jackaby roasting Lord Henry a little, maybe I did not. Only I know for sure and I never know anything for certain