Finally After Seven Days Of Struggle, It Is Finished.

One of my friends refering to swiss and terzo: "Which one is the baked potato and who's the mozzarella stick?"

Me without thinking: "swiss is baked cause of Sodo and terzo is mozzi cause of Omega."

My friend started to wheeze because that fuck's dirty minded. Then I got a chicken nugget thrown at me for that which landed under the car. Rip McDonald's Chicken nugget #485828479994827. You will forever be missed.

Guess who's restarting the year zero art piece because they misplaced it. For the fifth time. Yep. It's me.

BUT. I've got a better plan this time

Bone daddy will make his appearance soon, ghesties. I promise

Random interviewer: "And how many times do you normally edge yourself during a concert?"

Swiss:

random interviewer: . . .

Swiss: "..Yes"

Cirrus who's next to swiss during concerts: -boi hands-

(this was funnier in my head.)

Look at him 😭

Drawn by me

Worry Me, Worry You

[Dew is sick Swiss has some feelings about it. Contains discussion of being sick both in the sense of being unwell as well as in the physical sense. A fair bit of angst with a mild resolution at the end.] Below the cut.

When Dew gets sick, It starts with a weakness in his fingers, an inability to grip things in his hand without it feeling... off.

His muscles and joints feel loose and wrong, so he clenches his fists tighter, strains and tires himself without realizing until he can't manage simple tasks anymore.

His hands shake, and his sight goes to static at the edges, save for a strange, drifting clear spot in his vision, that has a filminess to it like a soap bubble without the rainbow sheen.

The pain doesn't set in right away, but the inability to focus his vision, combined by the sudden loss of his fine motor tells him it's only a matter of time before it does.

So when his hand refuses to close around the pen he's been using to scribble down notes with, he knows something's wrong... and he needs to deal with it before someone sees him.

Dew wets his lips, grateful to have caught things in the early stages, before his stomach has a chance to turn, before he feels that familiar numbness in the back of his throat...

He drops the pen onto the desk and closes his eyes, trying to strategize how exactly he's going to make it from his desk to his on suite bathroom without jostling himself too much.

He only needs to make it ten feet.

Why does that seem so far away now?

With great difficulty, Dew stands on unsure feet for only a moment before feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"Shit." he staggers uncoordinatedly in one spot before carefully lowering himself to the ground, knees pressing into the hardwood, and crawls to the bathroom instead.

He can barely reach the handle from the floor, but when he does, the door refuses to budge, and Dew bumps against it weakly with his shoulder, accidentally knocking his head and wincing.

He really needs to get this thing fucking fixed.

His head and the damned door.

Dew grunts awkwardly, smacking his hand uselessly against the flat surface.

It doesn't even make a sound when his hand slaps it, looks more like he's drunkenly petting it if anything.

Fuck.

His eyes water, clouding his already hazy vision as the pain starts to really set in.

It's like someone stabbing him repeatedly in the head with a metal fork, but lifting each time to scrape against the insides of his skull, and the only thing he can think to do is press his face to the floor and hope it's cold enough to soothe the persistent pulsing in his brain.

He tries to breathe normally, keep himself from clenching his jaw, but it's hard.

His body feels impossibly heavy.

He shivers.

Across the room, he can hear his phone buzzing.

Someone's calling him, but he just closes his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

It's not easy, and the grating sound of it rattling against the desktop feels like a knife in his ear, but, eventually, he's more focused on keeping his stomach settled and his head cooled that he's too out of it to realize his bedroom door is opening.

.

.

.

When Dew opens his eyes again, he's in his bed, bundled up in a sweatshirt too big to be his own, propped up on his side by a pillow wedged under his back, and a blanket covering him from the waist down, so his legs stay warm, but ensuring that his tender stomach stays relatively cooler.

A cold compress falls from his neck as he lifts his head, looking around the room tiredly.

He's dully aware of two things as he comes back to himself.

His mouth tastes like... peppermint.

Whoever put him here also brushed his teeth, and...

There's a distinct smell of artificial lemons in the air, like the floor cleaner they use specifically for the wood floors when there's been a spill so it doesn't leave a stain.

He tries not to think about what the person needed to clean up besides, ya know, him.

Dew sniffs again, but something about the action causes a fleck of spit to go down the wrong tube, and he lets out a little cough, which quickly turns into a groan as the muscles in his abdomen contract.

"Ah, you're awake."

Dew makes a small, befuddled noise in the back of his throat, followed by a weary chirp when he sees Rain walk into the room, smiling at him.

Dew drags himself up into a sitting position, and Rain is quick to rearrange his pillows to keep him upright.

"...Did you clean up my... the mess?" he croaks, his throat feels painfully dry, "Ow..."

"Mm-mm." Rain shakes his head, uncapping a water bottle and handing it to Dew.

"Nah, that was Swiss, he's the one who found you on the floor. Said he was coming to show you something stupid he bought and... yeah."

Dew tries to lift the bottle to drink, but his hands are too shaky and he spills a little down the front of his shirt, pouting.

Seeing his predicament, Rain steadies the bottle enough for Dew to drink a few good sips of water before taking it back and setting it on the nightstand beside the bed, "Better?"

"Mn..." he clicks his tongue, "I feel like... a rock... a rock made of shit."

"That's... I have no idea if feeling like a coprolite is better or worse than you felt before, but I'm going to assume that means you're feeling... relatively okay?"

"Ehn." Dew shrugs, "...my head doesn't hurt anymore, but my stomach's being a bitch..."

"Do you think you're going to throw up again?" Rain asks, worriedly eyeing the bathroom door.

"No... it's just sore now." he says, sinking back into the pillows, looking around the room curiously, "...Where'd Swiss go?"

"To take a shower." Rain says, glancing at the floor.

Ah.

"...'m sorry." Dew mumbles and Rain just smiles sadly and pets his hair.

"If you want to apologize to properly, you've gotta rest up and get better, okay?"

Dew nods, purring sleepily as Rain scratches around his horns.

"Any idea what made you sick?" Rain asks and Dew shrugs.

"Mn, migraine maybe... dunno..." he tugs at his shirt, "...Whose is this? Is this a unicorn riding a... riding a motorcyle, what?"

"It's Cirrus'."

Dew pinches his eyes shut and grumbles, "How many of you saw me all... gross and shit?"

There's a brief pause of consideration before Rain responds.

"Uh... When Swiss found you, he kind of shouted and..."

Dew covers his face with his hands.

"...Fuuuck..."

"We didn't know what was happening and-" Rain cuts himself off, watching tears dribble down Dew's chin, "Dew? Dew, does something hurt?"

"'m fuckin' embarrassed, what the fuck..." he whines, turning away from Rain and smushing his face into the pillow.

"Dew, it's-"

"'s'not okay..." Dew mumbles, "...I don't even remember what happened between being on the floor and now, and you all... that's fuckin' stupid."

"How's it stupid?"

"...I'm stupid. This is stupid-"

"Dew-"

"-My body's fucking stupid!" Dew cries, whipping around and throwing the pillows off his bed in a fit, flopping back down only to kick the sheets off as well, sniffling angrily when they refuse to untangle from around his legs.

"I'm a fuckin' demon! I'm supposed to be tougher than this!"

"Dew." Rain says a bit more firmly, grabbing his knees, forcing his legs to still, "Dew, I know it's upsetting, but we've got this, yeah? We're gonna take care of you."

"I don't want that..." Dew wipes his eyes with the sleeve of Cirrus' sweatshirt, "Don't want it..."

"Don't want us to take care of you or..." Rain tries, lowering his voice.

"Don't want..." Dew rolls onto his side again, "...I don't... I don't like..."

Rain tilts his head and waits.

"...I don't..." he can't finish the sentence.

He doesn't even know how he's supposed to articulate what he's feeling right now aside from sick.

His brain feels like pudding and all he can keep thinking about is how all of them...

...All of them...

"...Don't like it when you see me... see me like that..." he says finally, picking at the mattress, "Just leave me on the floor next time, pretend you didn't notice-"

The door creaks open and Swiss enters with his arms crossed.

"You... you know we can't do that, right?" he scoffs, holding his hand up when Dew opens his mouth to argue, "Sorry, baby boy, but I... we don't like seeing you suffer as much as you seem to want to hide it, so, like, no."

Dew hisses, but feels the fight leaving him when Rain sends him a sympathetic look and kneads his shoulder soothingly.

Swiss enters the room fully and shuts the door part way, leaving it ajar, before sitting down on the end of his bed, just out of kicking range in case Dew throws another tantrum.

"...This is fucking humiliating..." Dew huffs, staring daggers at his ceiling fan.

"Which part? Your sweet new sleep shirt curtesy of Cirrus, or the fact that we all love you so much we wouldn't let you lie on the floor in agony?"

Dew tilts his head down to look at the shirt again.

"...The latter."

He does have to admit he likes the design, but that's not the point.

"Well, too bad. We love ya, and you're going to have to get used to that." Swiss teases, "But, really, dude... We were really worried."

Rain nods.

"I would have been fine..." Dew whispers, "Not my first rodeo with this shit, so..."

"And you know that's more concerning, right?" Swiss points out, "Cause here's the thing; I don't care if you don't care about your own wellbeing, I mean, I fucking DO because you should care, but that's not even... What I'm trying to say is, if you're not doing well, you can tell us, you know that, yeah?"

Dew frowns, returning to glaring at his ceiling.

"Dew..." Swiss sighs, "I..."

He takes a deep breath and leans forward to hold his hand.

"Have any of us... ever made you feel like it isn't safe to talk about this stuff?" he asks.

"...No."

"But, do you... feel like it's not safe to talk about it?"

Dew doesn't answer right away, but when he does, his voice wobbles a bit.

"Yeahh..."

Rain returns to petting Dew's hair, "We've got you."

Swiss gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

At some point, Dew falls back asleep.

His dreams are nightmarish and provide little to no respite.

.

.

.

When Dew wakes, Rain is gone, but Swiss is lounging on his bed beside him scrolling through his phone, and Dew angles his head to take a peek at his screen.

"...Is that a dog or a cat?" he asks, his words a bit slurred from the way he's squished.

Swiss startles and almost drops his phone, "Jesus!"

He places a hand on his chest.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"I was." Dew mumbles, "...And now I'm awake."

"Thank you for the rundown, Captain Obvious.... Geez... You're scaring me a lot today, you know that?" Swiss pinches Dew's cheek and gives it a pull.

"Aughh diiidnth meean tooahh..." Dew says, "...'m thorry."

Swiss lets go of his face and sets his phone off to the side.

"You really did though." he says, ruffling Dew's hair, "I got scared seeing you on the ground like that, I didn't know what to do, and if... if something..."

He shakes his head.

"Actually, let's talk about that later, when you're better... How're you feeling now that you've slept some more?"

Dew yawns, "Weirdly more tired..."

Swiss snorts, "Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Dew wriggles closer to Swiss, looping his arm around his midsection and bumping his head against his chest.

"Whatcha doin' there, bud?"

"Lay down." Dew nudges him, "Sleep."

"Well, since you asked so politely..."

Dew lets Swiss go in order for him to get settled, resting his head on the pillow beside his.

"I'm still upset with you." Swiss informs him, but still allows Dew to snuggle up against his side, "...Glad you're not dead though."

"You thought I died?"

Swiss hums.

"You weren't responding when I called your name or shook you, so... yeah... yeah, I did." he says, resting his chin on top of Dew's head, "Aeth came running, made sure that... that you weren't... ya know."

"...Ah..."

"I..." Swiss swallows, voice cracking, "...Everybody was scared, but then you woke up! And we got you to answer some questions, and then... then you..."

"What did I do?" Dew asks nervously.

"You, uh, you... it was like the meme... You were just standing there, like dumbfounded about it, and meanwhile I'm over here like, 'BRO'..."

"This clears up nothing."

"You ruined my crocs."

"Oh. Ohhh..."

"Yeah."

They sit in silence for a moment while Dew processes this new information.

"...In hindsight, that's... that's at least a little funny." he says, "...Who brushed my teeth?"

"Oh that was Aeth and Rainy, they had a hell of a time getting into your bathroom, so they took you to Cirrus' room and got you all cleaned up. That's where we got the shirt and the shorts."

Dew lifts the blankets and stares.

Pink with white polka dots... what kind of cursed wardrobe is Cirrus hiding in her bedroom?

"After that, Mount made some weird tea and made you drink it, which, like, I don't know what was in that stuff-"

"Peppermint and chamomile with a sprinkling of ginger and two ibuprofen on the side!" Mountain calls from the other side of the wall.

Swiss blinks, "Damn the walls in this place are thin..."

"Anyway, you drank, like, two cups of that and zonked out, and that's about it. Still embarrassed?"

"Little bit... Less now that I know what happened... that's the scariest part." Dew confesses, "...It's the idea that something happened and I don't remember, but other people do, combined with... I dunno, not being able to stop it from happening to begin with..."

"Well... maybe a trip to the doctor is in order to help with that last part." Swiss says, rubbing Dew's back, "...Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Dewboy."

"Love you, too."

"We all love each other, now go to bed already, some of us are trying to sleep!" Cirrus chimes in from across the hallway, sending a pillow through the open door.

"You're all ruining the moment!" Swiss complains.

"If everyone is awake right now, can someone get me a glass of water?" Sunny inquires.

"Didn't I already get you-"

Swiss gets up and closes the door.

"Bedtime?" he asks.

"Bedtime." Dew confirms, holding his arms out for Swiss to collapse back into.

WELL. UH. IS THAT A GOOD THING??????

I can't get the image of someone using terzo's head as a basket/baseball

Copia: batter up *evil grin*

Terzo: no.. sathanas no

Had a bit of fun today with drawing Prequelle!Aether.

Ghost fans:

The reason why I feel this way:

Can’t say I feel bad about it..

(The actor seems very sweet tho)