#And now they never will

[unfinishedslurs]

Whoopsie!! I totally killed Steve. My bad guys

Steve is batted away like a rag doll, and goes flying into a tree. The sickening crack leaves Dustin stunned, and he stops in his tracks, staring. Waiting for Steve to get back up, like he always does. 

He doesn’t.

Okay, so he’s passed out. Bad timing, but it’ll be like when Billy beat him up. He’ll probably have a nasty concussion, and a broken bone, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He’s always fine. It’s Steve. 

“Steve!” Robin cries. She starts to run to him, but a monster gets in her way and she has to defend herself. One rushes at him, too, and Dustin goes back to the fight. 

As soon as it’s over, Robin is hurtling towards the tree that Steve is still lying at the base of. Bile rises in Dustin’s throat as he follows her. He shouldn’t be passed out this long, it’s a sure sign of severe brain damage. He shouldn’t be laying this still. 

When he catches up, Robin is already shaking him. “Steve,” she pleads as the others come to see what’s going on. “Steve, c’mon, wake up. We gotta get you to a hospital. Hear that? It’s your least favorite word! I’m going to stick you in a hospital for life if you don’t wake up right now—“

“We should check his pulse,” Dustin says distantly. “Make sure his heartbeat’s steady.” He drops to his knees to do just that. Just as quick, Jonathan nudges him away. 

“I’ll do it,” he says, in a voice Dustin’s only heard him use on Will. “I’ve got some first aid training under my belt.”

He doesn’t reply, just takes the hand Robin’s not clutching and stays still, staring at Steve. He can’t stop feeling like something’s off about the way he’s laying there, completely motionless—

His heart stutters in his chest. Steve’s completely motionless. He’s usually so bad at staying still, always running his hands through his hair, or flicking his lighter, or tapping a beat against the steering wheel. Now, he’s not doing any of that. He’s not moving at all. There’s not even a rise and fall of his chest. 

Dustin stares uncomprehendingly. He has the puzzle pieces, he knows he does, but he can’t make them come together. It’s like his brain is rejecting the picture it makes. 

Jonathan pulls his fingers away from Steve’s throat, brow furrowed, anxiety pulling at his features. He starts to take Steve’s hand, but Dustin can’t make himself let go. 

Gently, ever so gently, Jonathan pries his fingers off the limp wrist in his grasp. Dustin lets it happen, silent.

Robin hasn’t stopped talking, quiet murmurs replacing the panicked concern from before. He can’t understand the words through the roaring in his ears. 

Jonathan has turned white as a sheet, frozen with his fingers looped around Steve’s wrist. He thinks he might know what it means. He thinks he’s wrong, he’s wrong, he’s got to be wrong—

Robin shifts to lie perpendicular to Steve, and lays her head on his chest. Quiet, like she’s listening for something. 

She doesn’t find it. 

It’s been three weeks, but Dustin can still hear Robin’s anguished howl ringing in his ears. 

They had to pull her off of him, needed Hopper and Murray both because she fought. Kicked and scratched and screamed when they took her. Kept calling out for Steve to wake up between it all, escaped twice so she could go back and hold him. Hopper was grim, face open and awful, Murray pale and swearing as they wrestled her away. 

Dustin hadn’t moved, still in shock. Jonathan and Argyle had to practically carry him out, because he couldn’t make his limbs work. He couldn’t make himself leave Steve’s side. 

He realized what they were doing halfway to the car. 

“Wait,” he said, twisting, “wait, what are we doing? We can’t leave him there. We can’t leave him alone, he hates being alone. We can’t—“

Jonathan and Argyle exchanged a look over his head. 

“I’ve got him, man,” Argyle said quietly. Jonathan gave a sharp nod before moving in front of Dustin, ducking down to meet his eye. Tears were streaming down his face. 

“I’ll sit with him,” he promised. “Go ahead and go with Argyle, okay? I’ve got him. He won’t be alone.”

“But I—“

“I’ve got it,” Jonathan repeated, voice cracking. Dustin nodded and fell limp against Argyle’s side. He trusted Jonathan. Steve did too. 

When they got to the car, Robin was still thrashing. Murray was practically sitting on her, a bruise forming over his eye. 

“Where’s Jonathan?” Hooper asks sharply when he sees them. 

Argyle gestured helplessly. “Sitting with him. Dustin said…he didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Hopper's eyes were defeated, and he swiped a hand across his face before getting up and heading towards Steve and Jonathan without another word. 

Dustin climbed into the backseat, where Murray finally had Robin pinned. She was yelling herself hoarse. 

“You—you asshole, get the hell off of me, you can’t just fucking—you don’t get it, he needs me, he hates being alone, he hates it, he fucking hates it and he’s never alone. As long as I’m here he’s never fucking alone so let me go—“

“Robin,” he croaked, holding her arm. She whipped her head towards him immediately, eyes wide. 

“Henderson. Dustin, tell this asshole to let me go. I need to go to Steve. We can’t—I can’t leave him alone, please, he needs me there—“

“He’s not alone,” Dustin promised around the lump in his throat. “Jonathan’s with him. Jonathan’s gonna stay with him, he won’t be alone.”

She shook her head. “No, he needs me—“

“Jonathan will take care of him,” he repeated. “He’s Will’s big brother, he’s good at taking care of people.”

She finally stilled, eyes on Dustin. “Jonathan has him?”

He nodded, face wet, and she finally relaxed.

“Jonathan’s good,” she said. “Steve…Steve likes Jonathan.” She laughed, sharp enough to make him flinch. “He’s a sucker for pretty boys.”

Argyle made a low, hurt sound, like he’d been punched. Murray moved to the middle seat, relieved that he no longer had to pin her down.

In a move that they should have seen coming, she opened the door and bolted. 

“Shit!” Murray barked, and ran after her. 

[ionomycin]

temple at the end of the road

[lemonbubble]

me, eating a pile of nuts, cheese, and apple: mmmm tasty

the medieval peasant in my head watching me eat: thou knowst what would MAKETH this meal? dried fruits.

me, getting out the raisins: god damn, etheldred, you are SO right

the medieval peasant in my head: yet thou art still not heeding mine words regarding the blasphemy

[kochei0]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[scramratz]

Did you know it’s legal in the USA for mattress companies to put fiberglass in their mattresses? They don’t even have to label them! So if you wanna commission me so I can buy a new bed I won’t stop you

[pakchoys]

our secret

[beebfreeb]

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[ot3]

i dont like the idea that kids these days are doing their fandom rps with ai chatbots. that's how you're supposed to make lifelong friends as a weird really online teen.

[stump-not-found]

i don't think the theraprism is a good thing, guys

[kiwi]

everybodys gotta get back into the practice of using pseudonyms online... i remember the time of screen names where u never ever told anyone ur real name and that was just understood as basic internet safety. plus having a screen name is fun because sometimes it sticks so well that it becomes part of ur identity that u can use in whatever facet of ur life you choose. it rocks to pick your own name

[seenthisepisode]

no offence but the reason tumblr is “dying” is, well, yes, of course the cursed like/reblog ratio and the change in user behaviour (because of people being used to how instagram and tiktok work) BUT also the lack of weekly shows. i say it with my whole chest, they don't produce captivating and engaging stupid weekly tv shows anymore because streaming killed that so you have spikes of activity here when Something happens in general fandom or up to three days after a new season of whatever drops and then it's a wasteland. this is obviously an old woman yelling at a cloud missing supernatural and the vampire diaries and pretty little liars and all these other shows type of post but honestly give me back weekly tv shows where i have something to watch for 40 minutes almost every day of the week after work so then i can read and reblog it on tumblr give it back for the sake of my sanity

[ionomycin]

your last light

[catmask]

its true that romance amd friendship will not solve everything but. objectively speaking its very hard to get sad when you can say 'lets go get cake tomorrow okay' and someone will go get cake with you. like there is some good at least. you know

[thy-lovelylionheart]

“I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you,” is one of the rawest lines in all of fiction and it pierces me like a blade every time I hear it

[cursedpossums]