YOU WERE WARNED THAT THE GOOD DIE YOUNG

but may god forgive you, you're not yet done indie secret menu multimuse blog continued ever onward by junestar

[narrativecontinuation]

THIS BLOG HAS MOVED!

new blog here :3

[drwlf]

FIRST MEETING SENTENCE STARTERS

@narrativecontinuation: "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

I'm so often the one who mistakes people for someone else that I forget it can happen to others, but I'm don't mind: it's saved me from the embarrassment of admitting that I have no idea who this guy is.

"Uh--don't worry about it?"

[narrativecontinuation]

The pause that follows is long. Awkward. Elias shifts slightly, one foot then the other. He's uncomfortable and doesn't know what to say or do next. He's not even sure how he ended up in here, calling after someone he doesn't actually even know.

After the pause stretches on for what feels like an eternity Elias asks, weakly, "I'm looking for a man named Thomas Hill...? Is he, um. Still at this hospital? Do you know?"

[dysphoria-things]

(no beers in) do you guys think i'm redeemable

[narrativecontinuation]

"is there anybody out there?"

narrativecontinuation, a independent dual muse featuring a vampire and a vampire hunter

low activity - iconless - faceclaimless - 18+ only

an exploration of what it all means, lacking theme, being lost in time and space, and dreamy, ethereal reality

"we haven't met, but i wrote this song for you."

continued ever onward by junestar

"is there anybody out there?"

[coldstonedreamery-deactivated20]

[fvmilivr-deactivated20240222]

remember to be violent and unforgiving 😊

[narrativecontinuation]

stephen king muses moved to -> @mainescwn

[narrativecontinuation]

might make this into an elias and single muse blog an move the other muses to a sideblog.... but i don't know what url i would use...

[narrativecontinuation]

url change?

stay narrativecontinuation

change to mainescwn

june's cheat button

Voting ended onDec 6, 2025

[candyflossmemes]

spotify wrapped has arrived. send me a number from 1-100 for a starter based on that song, or a lyric from it, or send a 🎁 for me to shuffle.

[narrativecontinuation]

url change?

stay narrativecontinuation

change to mainescwn

june's cheat button

Voting ended onDec 6, 2025

[narrativecontinuation]

ray garraty of the long walk fame has been added to the muse list

[safetypinned]

deeper concern marks itself on sam's features by a softening around his eyes. tapered brows buckle towards one another. we whets his lips and rolls both in between his teeth before the blunt edges scrape against the small slivers of flesh he snagged as they're released. everything about this guy says he's in big trouble. looks pale. torn apart inside from nerves.

the hunter notes the question about what happened to him went unanswered.

a sigh heaves his chest. there's enough weapons in the room for him to defend himself. even one on his person. in the end? empathy wins out. the younger winchester draws closer, crossing over the threshold of his motel room to rest a hand on elias's shoulder (an attempt to comfort and reassure).

sam shakes his head. "don't know him personally.." what he does know? is enough to be wary of messages being sent. in their circles? that could be brutally written in his flesh and left for dean and, by proxy, thomas hill to deal with the aftermath. this guy though? the longer they're face to face? the more sam feels for him. hard to fake tears like that and have them mean something more than a blank canvas radiating from empty space veiled by some waterworks.

relenting, he gives the shoulder he holds a light squeeze. "pretty sure i can track him down, though. what's the," he pauses--guarded but less so--warmth fills his small smile. stepping out on a limb built by his own gut instinct, the taller of the pair steps to the side and swings his free hand towards the room behind him. "you look like you could use a break from whatever this is. c'mon." long fingers slip free and sam holds the door open as he steps inside. "promise you're safe here."

[narrativecontinuation]

Hand touches shoulder and Elias looks down at it. He's shorter than Sam by nearly an entire foot, but Elias can see the veins in his wrist and is helpless to do anything but stare at them and try to ignore the horrific pangs of hunger that punch at his gut and claw their way into his chest and try to find their way out through his mouth.

He can barely hear Sam, he can barely hear anything but the rush of blood, the beating of his heart, each inhale, each exhale. More tears spring forth, but these are less from the sadness he's been saddled with and more from the pain that hunger brings alongside it. His face contorts with it and he swallows hard, holding a hand over his mouth to keep himself steady and focused.

Elias isn't sure what he must look like to the other man, the other hunter, but evidently it's enough to be let inside the motel room. Elias is grateful and terrified. Grateful because it means he can come inside for a moment and talk this out. Terrified because it means he'll be alone. In a small room. With a living person. Filled with blood.

You're safe here, says Sam and Elias wonders how true that would be if Sam knew what he really was.

It doesn't stop Elias from shuffling slowly inside, however, hands gathered in a tight ball at his chest. "you can track him down?" He asks, finally, a whisper of hope coming into his otherwise miserable tone.

"that. that would be very... good. if you could, it's just. i can't see him myself. that's all."

[niratias]

A snap of teeth, like a feral dog, and a laugh from deep in his chest. He rolls his shoulders back, head tilted, and rises to his full six-four, cutoff denim vest doing little to hide lean muscle and a patchwork of scars beneath shameless body hair.

Normal guys don't drink with handwraps on. Normal guys don't have a depressive episode at a small-town bar they're going to regret intensely when they sober up. Fucking embarrassing, really, but he'll bemoan that later. Right now, he's fucked up- but he's not as fucked up as he's been in the past. He's got a nose full of freeze, a gut full of pale ale, and the body of a brick shithouse.

Chipped tooth catches on lip. Digs in. Draws blood. He's moving forward, massive man that he is, and spitting blood in Barbie's face before pushing him, both hands extended to do so, wordlessly saying that HE might not want to do it with fists, but Mox?

He's got all fucking night to beat the nightmares away.

[narrativecontinuation]

This guy doesn't get it. Barbie gets that right away. This guy doesn't get that there doesn't need to be a fight. That reminds him of more than a few occasions in his life, but Barbie can't let his mind get clouded when this guy is coming in close and fast.

He jerks his head back about half a second too late to avoid the blood in his face, but he's just quick enough to get it splattered on his nose, mouth and cheek as opposed to the eyes. That's a blessing and Barbie knows it. He can still see and yeah, maybe he doesn't avoid the push but he at least sees it coming and is able to keep himself on his feet when it does come.

The push is useful. This guy probably isn't using full strength on it but it's enough to gauge at least something and Barbie knows he might be in some trouble. This guy may only be one guy as far as he's aware but he knows from experience you never assume it's just one and when just a push is that powerful, you better start thinking on your damn feet.

"what's got you so riled up anyway?" Barbie asks, keeping his voice calm, but not quite casual. He doesn't take on any tone of authority either-- doubts it'll work here. "so pissed you gotta fight someone in the parking lot of some dive bar, must be pretty bad, huh?"

[safetypinned]

"you don't got to," hands swing out from his sides to stop elias from going after what he purposefully let fall out of sight. only to retract when he rights himself before kneeling completely. "i was done with it anyway." slightly glossy hazel eyes wander over the other's face truly taking him in and that's when the uneven smile that's been jammed between the edges of his mouth begins to flicker. then slowly fades away replaced by a worried frown.

everything about him looks wrong. the clothes on his frame are too big and bulky. a pallid face and sunken features. if he didn't look twice? he'd damn near think elias was something they should be hunting down. a spectre in human skin. suddenly that joint feels like a bad idea. no taking that back! we're doing this with a haze framing the corners of his brain and creeping in deeper. inch by inch.

palming over his face--an attempt to ground himself, wipe off that floaty feeling--sam blinks. i know what you are. that never ends well. never starts well either. no time to interject before elias lays out his and dean's truth with a blunt honesty.

i need help..

no denying that. tattered and fragile, he looks like he just escaped from somewhere. sam's hands ball up into fists he shoves in the pockets of an unzipped dark gray jacket. he doesn't invite him in. not yet. won't risk that yet. they've got some trust that needs building. still--he addresses him gently and with compassion. both can be yanked away as quickly as they're given.

"what happened to you? what can i do?"

[narrativecontinuation]

Elias doesn't ask to come in. He doesn't move to come in, either. He just stands there, quiet, folded in on himself. He breathes in, shaky, funny thing because he doesn't even have to breathe anymore. It's just some kind of automatic habit, especially when he's nervous. A vampire doesn't just approach a hunter without nerves.

"do you know, um, a man named thomas hill?" He asks, eyes suddenly on the ground instead of on Sam. "he-- uh, hunter. he's a hunter. mostly vampires, but he... other, he can do other hunts. if he has to."

He's not sure he's making sense. He's sure he's not getting to the point quickly enough. He can hear, practically feel the vibration of Sam's heart, of the blood thudding through his veins.

"well, anyway..." Maybe Thomas didn't matter to the story, only mattered to Elias's broken heart. He feels tears in his eyes and sniffs, wiping quickly at his eyes. "maybe you don't but i just need someone to get a message to him and i can't do it myself. so. that's what i need help with."

No comment on his current condition. No comment on his almost inability to stand straight without trembling so badly it looks like he'll fall to the ground at any moment.

[newbrckenscene]

independent multi-muse. ft. muses that revolve & exist around the fictional band D4

[lcstrega]

starter for @narrativecontinuation's elias !

❛ You've the saddest eyes in the room, don't you? ❜ The woman couldn't help but smile, the smallest flash of teeth gleaming through lips stained with deep, red wine. A part of her, perhaps, was sizing him up in some way.

Her stomach was positively in knots.

❛ Such a waste of a beautiful night, a waste of the romance of a no name, dirty little bar. What has you so down, amico mio? ❜

[narrativecontinuation]

Elias's eyes, sad as they are, flick over towards her. He tries to smile. It doesn't reach his eyes and barely moves his lips either. He doesn't know what to make of her, of why she's looking at him like that.

"oh, um." He looks down at his drink, which will do nothing to actually help his thirst, his hunger. "you think this place is romantic?"

He's rather the topic of conversation not be on him.