#endlessyouth

[narrativefinale]

[  quiet  room  ]  sender  dims  the  lights  and  turns  everything  down  low  so  receiver  can  rest (have dorian being... GASP semi-nice? yeah, i suppose its more likely than you think LOL maybe this one could be for elias because i read through his bio and thought it was interesting :3)

@endless-youth // meme tag

It's been miserable. It's just been so miserable. Starvation, as it turns out, is painful. It's this clawing, cloying thing that hangs in every part of Elias's being, desperate for some sort of relief. Relief that Elias won't give in to.

He can smell Dorian's blood. And that, perhaps, is even worse torture. It doesn't smell like an ordinary human's, it smells, in some ways, older. It reminds Elias of books, hidden away in an old library. Comforting, in part, yes, but Elias has always been the type to devour stories as voraciously as he previously devoured anything sweet and with lots of frosting. The smell of the blood running through Dorian's veins was enticing, wonderful, sweet in a way most blood didn't evoke.

Or maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Elias isn't sure. As he lays in this bed, curled up around himself, under a few blankets and hurting, hurting, hurting beyond measure, he can't be sure. He's supposed to be resting, but the hollowness inside him won't let it come easily.

"wait," he rasps, because Dorian is in the doorway and Elias feels as if he's getting ready to leave and, in a fluttery, rising panic, he can't stand the idea of being alone. "wait."

He repeats, tears suddenly welling up in the corners of his dark brown eyes, threatening to spill over, threatening to show just how weak he's become. "will you stay?"

Whispered, barely audible, like a prayer he wants to keep to himself.

[montclairbaldwin]

@endless-youth // let Baldwin take your muse on a lavish date you cowards

It is as simple as having the bravery to approach someone you thought appealing and asking them to get to know you. Oh, it wasn't Dorian's obvious beauty it was the cunningness of turning all their admirers into patrons, gossip had gone around multiple societal circles that Dorian was a shrewd scammer and that cunningness and ambition drew him in.

It was as simple as stating that he would be dinning at Le Bernardin and would send his driver in a Rolls to Dorian's at 7 pm to bring him for 8, if he did not wish for dinner Baldwin would dine alone and be perfectly fine by it. He praised the sharpness of Dorian's mind and his wit and mentioned that his company would most certainly make for an interesting evening. His choice if he wished to provide it or not.

He brought a book just in case but for a brief split second there was relief to see Dorian being escorted in the private dinning room. Relief that a risk paid out. "You look lovely" the vampire praised pulling out Dorian's chair having taken his hand to kiss his knuckles and when Dorian would have it returned there would be weight to it, an actual Cartier watch.

"Should you choose to allow me your company again, punctuality is a must" Dorian was a man impressed by wealth with many patrons to his beauty, if he hoped to keep his attention strong intellectual conversation would not be enough.

Intense would be a defining characteristic it seemed.

"I thought we would enjoy the chef's tasting menu. But you can go ala carte if you prefer, I am curious to trust an artist" A control freak like him, chef Eric best bring his A-game Baldwin would be judging. They barely spoke at the party, what were they but two strangers.

"I'm relieved you came, I was hoping to have a chance to get to know you. I looked up your design company, fascinating choice the Wild West on a runway. What inspires you about the frontier?"

[lenfentisms]

💋 (one kissie for the violinist is just what the doctor ordered)

Send 💋 to give my muse a kiss

Add 'reverse' to have my muse kiss yours

"Merci!" he bowed and the moment he did and headed to the balcony so did all politeness. And of course someone had opinions about his music, Nicolas of course did not take opinions and they all but ended up debating on that balcony and had anyone from the party bothered to go to the garden below, which most wouldn't as it was drizzling, they would have heard their heated argument and slung insults. If Nicolas did not take one thing well, it was his music criticized by blond dandies and he had called Dorian exactly that.

"What are you but a pretty empty vase...vapid with nothing in it....except some rich man's cock." Dorian had a reputation for being a bit of an arm candy to wealth. They swatted at each other and Dorian would gain the upper hand pinning him to the wall,he must have practised some form of close quarter combat. "God, all this effort just to get your hands on me. I never met a man more desperate." He had practise with blond brats and the only way to not have Dorian call himself the victor was to flip the narrative and sure enough the brat kissed him just to bite his tongue, just to make him regret goading him. But Nicolas would fight for dominance even now, pushing his tongue into Dorian's mouth violently, fingers curled into blond tresses to snap his head back so he could lick Dorian's bottom lip.

"Are you done with the foreplay and ready to take me to your chambers or shall we do another round of insults?"

@endless-youth

[ysabeauxdexclermont]

" it looks worse than it feels. "

@endless-youth wants blood, blood blood gallons of the stuff!

"It looks as if you ought to be at your maker's door, monsieur"

Her hand had almost reached him and had she been just a second faster Dorian would not have taken that tumble off the albeit low hanging balcony and into the hedges. Barely a few meters of height and she thought the boy lucky to have softened his landing in the hedges or he might have died. Who was he? He came with Lord Henry but Ysabeau had never seen him before not that she knew many of the British nobility. Philippe and her were starting over again, they disappeared for a generation, lived in Greece for another, and now would return to France this year in 1921 under the guise of the World War having ended.

Their story would be that they met when French diplomats arrived in Salonika in 1915, she could be Ysabeau de Clermont again and this time Phillip would state that she was of old nobility and their family name was hers.

She heard it. That distinct sound of bones mending but he was no vampire...so she simply must have misheard. "Would you like a hand out of the hedges monsieur?" she asked and reached for his hand to help him step out. "Your poor garments seem to have taken most of the brunt of the thorns. Come, the servant's entrance is to the left, lets get you cleaned up.

So many gasped, screamed and ran to try and find him thinking he might have broken his neck, Ysabeau among them.

In Greek she spoke to her husband to move the crowd back into the mansion and to the party and that she would get the servants to tend to the young man.

[devilsxminioned]

@endless-youth // <3 for a vampire Daniel starter inspo.

The hospital at one in the morning had a particular kind of silence—thin, papery, stretched too tight over the bones of the building. Daniel sat in it like a man waiting for a verdict, elbows on his knees, fingers laced, the vinyl chair beneath him sighing every time he shifted. The lights overhead hummed with the same nervous energy that had been crawling under his skin since the call came,Dorian had been admitted two hours earlier.

“Severe sleep deprivation,” the nurse had said. “Manic episode.”Words delivered with the calm efficiency of someone who had said them a thousand times, but they still hit Daniel like a fist to the sternum.He stared at the double doors to the psychiatric wing, their small wired-glass windows reflecting his own face back at him—older, more lined, the kind of face that had seen too many nights like this in too many cities. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to chase away the ghost of cigarette smoke that wasn’t there, the hospital lights were too bright on his vampiric senses, he could smell blood everywhere and the noise...every creak and clatter like a hammer to his brain...and he could not even smoke anymore.

Dorian Gray,fashion’s golden boy,A creature of velvet, lacquered nails, and impossible beauty and tonight, a man who hadn’t slept in nearly a week.Someone must had seen the signs—of course they had. The frantic sketches, the way Dorian’s voice had taken on that bright, brittle edge, the way he’d talked about a new collection as if it were a divine revelation instead of a project with a deadline. Daniel had been around enough brilliance to recognize when it tipped into something dangerous and so now he wondered why no one intervened earlier. Daniel was only here due to an out of date form, he and Dorian had not spoken face to face in nearly a decade if not more....and so much had happened since then.

"You haven't updated your European insurance documents for a while-" Daniel offered as an answer as to why Daniel was here. Eleven years ago, sure, Daniel was close enough to be his emergency contact...but Dorian had so many documents, so many manic life moments that things slipped through the cracks.

"Of course I came" All the way to Monaco. "Someone has to make sure you don't do something stupid...something stupider than your usual stupid"

[devilsxminioned]

[ DISTRACT ]: sender causes a distraction to draw the receiver’s attacker/s away from them.

@endless-youth // shining armour prompts

He was a young man that asked the sort of questions others shyed away from, questions people did not really want asked nor answered and that tended to garner him a lot of the wrong sort of attention.

Daniel felt the shift before he understood it.A moment ago, the air behind him had been tight—charged with the wrong kind of attention. The kind that made his shoulders lock and his pulse start its slow, unwelcome climb. He’d been preparing himself for the inevitable: the turn, the confrontation, the scramble for an exit he’d already mapped out and then the pressure simply… dissolved.He blinked, thrown off by the sudden absence of threat. The eyes that had been drilling into his back were gone—redirected, scattered, pulled clean away from him as if someone had reached into the room and rewired its gravity.He turned just enough to see the cause.Dorian Gray stood several paces away, positioned with surgical precision in the direct path of the men who had been closing in on Daniel. He hadn’t stumbled there. He hadn’t wandered into danger by mistake. He had stepped into it—deliberate, poised, radiant in a way that demanded attention...and attention was exactly what he’d taken.

Every gaze that had been fixed on Daniel now clung to Dorian instead, drawn to him like moths to a flame they didn’t realize would burn them. The designer’s presence was a weapon—silk‑wrapped, effortless, devastatingly effective.Daniel exhaled, the breath shaky despite his best attempt to hide it. Relief hit him first, sharp and unwelcome,then confusion,then a slow, simmering awareness that crawled up the back of his neck.Dorian had done this for him.

He’d made himself the distraction—beautiful, reckless, intentional.Daniel stood there for a breath too long, letting the safety settle around him like borrowed armor. Watching Dorian command the room, watching the threat pivot away from him without hesitation and beneath the relief, beneath the adrenaline, one thought pulsed steady and insistent:Why would Dorian Gray bother saving him?He didn’t have the answer but he knew he couldn’t walk away from this without finding out.

Daniel didn’t move at first he stood there in the wake of the danger, pulse still a little too fast, breath still catching in that uneven way it did when adrenaline hadn’t quite burned off. The room felt different now—lighter, safer—but his body hadn’t gotten the memo yet and Dorian Gray was still at the center of it all.The designer held the attention of Daniel’s would‑be attackers with the ease of someone who’d been commanding rooms for over a century. Every gesture was deliberate. Every glance calculated. He was a distraction, yes—but a weapon too, wrapped in silk and charm.Daniel exhaled once, slow, steadying, then started toward him.He didn’t rush. He didn’t call out. He simply walked—shoulders squared, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the man who had just stepped between him and a threat he hadn’t fully seen coming.

Purely on instinct he slumped into his arms and on his shoulder wept.

Life was bullshit, from one shit sandwich to the next and he was breaking down. How much more...God...why couldn't it just be over.

[devilsxminioned]

@endless-youth // continued this in reference and this in plot

He woke slowly, like surfacing through warm water — thick, heavy, reluctant. His head throbbed in a dull, rhythmic way, and for a moment he wasn’t sure where he was, or what time it was, or why his body felt like it had been steamrolled by a truck with a personal vendetta.Then he felt it,a hand in his hair,gentle, careful,almost reverent.His eyes cracked open,Dorian Gray was still there,still in that ridiculous chair nowhere near touching his hair, he must have dreamed it and thought it to be true.Dorian still immaculate,still looking at him like he was something fragile and worth tending to.Daniel blinked, throat scraping like sandpaper. "You’re… still here."

Dorian didn’t even look surprised. Didn’t look tired. Didn’t look like someone who had spent hours in a shitty chair next to a feverish journalist. His hand just kept moving through Daniel’s hair, slow and steady, like he’d been doing it the whole time.Had he dreamed the whole thing? No, Dorian was here so at least his presence was real. "You can catch this shit if you stick around you're better off not taking the chance, it's hideous and we both know.." he paused to have a coughing fit into his bedcover "...you would be miserable to not be pristine" he coughed again and reached for the bowl next to his bed opening the lid to smell it's rich chicken goodness.

"I'm gonna go heat it up..I got this." He did not got this so maybe it was a good thing Dorian was here wanting to fuss over him. Eugh, fine he would relent and admit that he was too dizzy to get out of bed. "Can I have some water too please? Cold from the Brita filter in the fridge. Please" he asked politely and it showed how unwell he was to be so demure and small towards a man he was crushing on, hard.

"I had a dream about you" Daniel admitted sitting up to eat the reheated soup when Dorian returned with it. "You were like an angel, golden halo, you touched my chest and asked me to dinner if I got better" He took a spoonful of that soup humming at the comforting warmth. "Did you actually cook this? It's really good." he praised, keeping food down might be a problem so this light and easy to digest meal would be just right for his needs.

His fever broke just enough to be lucid, must be the medication or maybe the rest. He still felt like his chest was boiling his organs. "If it was down to me you never would have seen me like this. Ask my ex-boyfriends and ex girlfriend, I am like a cat, I don't like the indignity of being witnessed being ill." Which was weird cause he was fine being witnessed in worse states.

"You're being really nice and it's a little weird to accept it but thank you man, I really appreciate the soup and company."

[narrativefinale]

a twenty-four hour shopping center at 3 am (thought this would be fun with elias BC dorian would bring him to like a cool little place like the quickie mart for some oreos or something if he wanted to come :3)

locations meme // @endless-youth

Elias hadn't left Dorian's home much since he started staying there. For one, the sunlight hurt more than he wanted to admit, and for two, he was just extremely skittish. Being around too many people felt like a nightmare to the newly turned vampire, especially when he finally had his first taste of blood and hasn't looked back since.

It took some convincing, but knowing they'd be out so late that few others would be around was the selling point for Elias to go out to take a walk and find a few things at a small corner shop. He kept close to Dorian the whole walk there, clutching onto his hand tight enough to cause pain for the other but unable to keep himself calm otherwise. He only breaks away from Dorian when they get to the shop and he spies a brand of tea he hasn't seen in ages.

Slowly, he lets go of Dorian's hand and walks over to where it's sitting and reaches for it at the same moment someone else does. The other person rests his hand on it first and Elias pulls his hand back, tilting his head up to apologize (despite not even doing anything wrong).

Then he freezes, as the face of Thomas Hill looks back down at him.

Recognition flickers across Thomas's face, but the hurt, the pain, the anguish that is in Elias's face isn't mirrored in Thomas's. If anything, he looks exasperated. Then he glances around the store, leans over, and whispers something to Elias that makes Elias swallow hard... And then nod.

Thomas lightly lays a hand on Elias's shoulder, nods back to him, and then turns to exit the shop. Elias stands there, hands bunching up in the collar of his shirt, then hurries out, past Dorian, after the man who left.

"thomas--! wait--" he says, voice shaken as he passes by Dorian.