Coulduseprozac - Whatever

Copia feeling insecure about having a tummy/getting chubby as he gets older and he makes some self depreciating joke about it to Aether one day but he takes it seriously and has a conversation about it and it ends with Aether cuddling up on Copia’s stomach and telling him how much he love him and his body no matter what and the girls eventually decide to join the cuddle pile

God, this is so incredibly important to me.

---

More often than not, Copia doesn't bother looking at his reflection in the body length mirror that resides in his room.

Today is different.

He catches his reflection as he moves by. The frilly black shirt (his favorite) is always lose fiting on him. But a quick glance shows what he's been dreading.

There's extra pudge that sits on his hips. It clings to his ribs and Copia can't help the disgusted noise he makes. He's supposed to be Papa and yet here he is letting himself get fat and lazy. Well, he's never been the most fit, to be truthful. That more than likely plays a key role in it.

His eyes linger too long, and it finally ends with him frowning at his reflection.

Copia catches a glimpse of Aether in the mirror. He's stretching and then makes eye contact. "Little bird," it's a nickname he's had since his Cardinal days. If it were anyone else, Copia would complain. But it's Aether and he adores everything about the ghoul. That realization hits him like a ton of bricks. Aether is so perfect. He's big and beefy -- and Copia is...well Copia.

"About time for you to trade in your little bird for a new one, eh?" It slips out before he can stop it. He lets out a tired laugh, hand running through his hair.

"What?"

Aether is in -- shock? That can't be right.

"Si, you know." Copia waves his hand through the air. "Because I am not the young Cardinal you originally met."

"Copia --" He sees the ghoul struggling with his words. "What are you --"

"The Cardinal you originally knew did not have so much pudge in the ah -- belly area." He can't bring his eyes to meet Aether's.

"You think a little extra flab matters to me?" The ghoul is on him in an instant. A large hand cuping his face. The other pawing at the extra flesh on his stomach. He squeaks and makes to move away but Aether holds him fast. "I love every bit of you."

Finally, Copia meets his eyes and he can't help but feel horrible. There's so much love and adoration in those eyes that it makes him feel sick. Unworthy. "Ah si, but I have aged and well you have -- you have not. Surely that bothers you?"

"It bothers me that you think it should bother me." His voice is stern and Copia feels anxiety gnawing at his insides. He's about to fuck this up. "You're beautiful."

"Aether--"

A clawed hand snags his chin as he aims to look away. "I mean it. You're beautiful now and you were beautiful before your surgeries." He boops Copia's now much less pointy nose. "New button nose and all.'

Copia lets out a sigh and then caves as he falls into those large arms.

--

Aether purrs. His head is rested on Copia's tummy. The extra padding making him an excellent pillow. Poppy lies next to Papa, practically buried inside his red tracksuit coat with him. His arm losely wrapped around her. Salem lies curled up against his other side, smashed between he and Aether.

It's an incredibly domestic scene and Aether hopes -- prays, the love the three of them have for him seems into Copia's veins. Proving that he is perfect no matter what.

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 30: 𝒃𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 / 𝒅𝒂𝒚 19: 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

pairing(s): swiss/aeon words: 1314 notes: they/them aeon (cock/dick for their anatomy, only implied here). a present for dottie: happy birthday @coffeeghoulie 💙

Aeon looks around, nose leading his head in an almost bird-like manner as he takes in the state of the bedroom. There’s twenty or so candles of various sizes and burn stages placed around the room, the walls and furniture cast in a warm amber. All dark wax: navy blues, midnight blacks, and deep crimsons grouped together in trios of moody hues. A dying joint sits in the ashtray on the nightstand—it’s the only scent in the room aside from Swiss’ own. Something light, not too strong; pleasantly heady and herbal. 

“What’s with all the candles?” 

Swiss chuckles. He shuts the door behind them and loosely crosses his arms. “It’s called ‘setting the mood’,” he lilts.

They raise their eyebrows. “Hm.” Aeon looks him up and down, not-so-subtly lingering on his forearms. “You wanted to play with fire.”

“These things aren’t mutually exclusive, baby.” Swiss flashes his thousand-watt smile, and Aeon can’t help but roll their eyes and drift into him. They slip into his arms and wrap theirs around his waist. Leaning back their head into the cradle of Swiss’ hands when they come up to the back of their neck. 

Aeon hums. Smiles lazily. “I have something else you can play with,” they say softly, picking the hem of his t-shirt out of his jeans and slipping their hands underneath. They sway their hips a little too, just for good measure. Swiss rumbles, sultry. The quint ghoul runs their knobby fingers over the softness of his lower back, then slides one of their hands to his front. Palm flat against his stomach and drifting upwards. 

“Oh, I bet you do,” the multi ghoul says huskily. He grins, pulling Aeon in until their lips meet, half a kiss and half a shared, breathless laugh. 

Swiss’ mouth is warm, inviting—he always makes it too easy for them to open up immediately, tongues gliding out to greet the other in the space between their eager lips. Aeon tastes the weed lingering in his mouth. His natural mint and whiskey flavor. They never tire of it, no matter how many times they’ve tasted each other by now.

Swiss drops one hand to their waist instead, pulling them flush to his own body. Aeon groans approvingly and brings that hand on his tummy higher, higher. Fingers curling into his chest hair and thigh slotting between his legs.

The multi ghoul huffs. “Make me crazy, baby,” he breathes into their mouth. “So fuckin’ crazy.”

“Yeah?” Aeon teases. They trail kisses down his jawline, his neck. Hand dragging back down his torso until they’re palming the tent in Swiss’ jeans, earning them a hiss. “Gonna show me how crazy?” they mumble into his pulsepoint. 

“Fuck.” Swiss’ head dips back as he grinds into Aeon’s hand. They curl their fingers, pressing them deeper, groping him through the denim. His scent turns spicy and sweet all at once. Flooding their senses with nothing but a potent cloud of Swiss. They throb between their legs when his hands start to roam, chubbing up as he digs his those thick fingers into their waist, their back, petting over the nape of their neck and pawing at their ass. 

When the multi ghoul pulls them into a heated kiss, it’s Aeon’s turn to swear. “Shit—want you,” they pant. 

Swiss laughs breathlessly. “Didn’t even get to any romance yet.”

“Don’t have to—can have me however you want.”

The room spins.

The statement steals the breath from Swiss’ lungs, twisting it into a devastated groan. He grips Aeon tighter. Anchoring them both to the spot and resting their foreheads together. His heart’s pounding against his ribs, and he’s sure the quint can probably hear it—probably feel it against that skinny chest of theirs. 

“Baby,” he says slowly. His voice breaks with the surge of want that rushes up from his core, but it’s the nerves that he chokes on. Swiss swallows in poor effort to shove it all down. He cradles their cheeks in his hands, thumbs grazing over their cheekbones. Specks of ultraviolet in their otherwise charcoal gray eyes flash in the candlelight as they gaze up at him with parted lips and furrowed brow. Concerned despite the obvious arousal between them. 

“What?” 

Swiss takes a full breath. “Aeon,” he says softly. Their eyebrows raise a centimeter. “My beautiful bug.” They light up at the word ‘my’, chirping quietly. 

Lucifer, he can’t keep it in any longer. “I love you.”

Aeon’s eyes go wide. They stare at him for a painfully long moment, eyes flitting all over his face. Five, six, seven . . .The silence is maddening, but Swiss doesn’t dare break it by accidentally saying something stupid. Their fingers curl into his shirt a few seconds later and they force out: “Oh, the candles . . .”

He sighs, tension between his shoulders dissipating. “Yeah, the candles,” Swiss laughs. “Hopeless romantic, you know me. But ya kinda jumped me before I had the chance to be sappy.”

“Sorry,” they say, mouth scrunching to the side as they hold back a smile. “Could have stopped me.”

“Like hell I was gonna stop you.”

Aeon shrugs. “Fair.” But they smile big then, pulling Swiss into a hug. The multi ghoul wraps them up easily, resting his cheek against the top of their head. They smell like Dew’s shampoo and the electric zing of oncoming storms. Metallic and clear and apple-y. They blow a great big sigh into his chest, and it’s all wonderfully domestic. Something about them not realizing he had wanted to craft a certain ambiance and just falling into their usual, casual routine makes him smile. It’s just so them. He isn’t even bothered by Aeon not saying it back; he just needed to say it, lest it tumble from his lips at a random moment before his brain could stop his mouth from uttering the three words. 

Swiss sways them a little in the short span of silence, gaze lost in the flickering flames off to his right. That lingering feeling of arousal creeps back up, but he’s just as content to preserve this little bubble of warmth for as long as Aeon will let him. 

It’s not much longer though, the quint ghoul soon pulling his head out from their embrace. Their face has a little color to it, a slight purple hue over their otherwise deep gray complexion. Swiss can’t help but grin at how cute it makes them. 

“What are you smiling at?”

Swiss grins wider. “Just you. My cute little bug.”

Aeon shakes their head, amused. “You know that I love you, too, right?” 

A flash of giddiness surges through his chest, the entire cavity of it filling with affection. “You love me, too.” It’s a statement, not a question. Swiss fights his cheeks hard from dimpling with delight. 

“Yes? That’s what I just—mmpf!”

Swiss dives in and captures them in a kiss, cutting off the rest of their sentence. The ‘yes’ was more than enough for him. He kisses them like he hasn’t seen them in a hundred years—hands curled in their hair, mouths slotted perfectly together, and love seeping from every possible pore. Aeon melts so easily for him, humming contentedly when he licks over their top lip. Where it was heated and fervid before, it’s deep and tender now: a slow meeting and parting of their mouths, over and over without any intent of stopping. 

“Fuck, Swiss,” Aeon mumbles against his lips after who knows how many kisses. He takes it as an invitation to lick into their mouth, leaning into the hand that’s started skirting back under his shirt. “Please.”

Pleasure coils hot in his stomach. Renewed enthusiasm taking over as they start getting needy again. “Anything,” Swiss rumbles, grabbing at their waist. Pulling them in until they’re flush against him once more, until he can feel them throb through their pants. 

“Take me,” Aeon breathes. “Make me yours.”

please consider reblogging ♡ divider by @ghuleh-recs

Seriously. Why do they think all women want a short ass tee? I went to 4 different stores (I'm not counting TJ Maxx as their selection is hideous) before I found 2 tops. I've lost 50 pounds at this point. It. Shouldn't. Be. This. Hard. To. Find. Something. That. Fits.

DO IT!

Mushy May, Day 5 (Animals) - Menagerie of the Damned

Inspired by Mushy May prompts by the fab @forlorn-crows. I'm a day late with this one but I'm a good Satanist and never follow the rules anyway...Also on my Ao3!

If you've ever been told it's "just a pet", Papa Primo has your back!

***

He had been sitting forlornly on the hard, wooden bench since the meeting ended. He should move really. His ass had gone distinctly numb and such a public display of weakness wasn’t fitting for someone who was about to become the figurehead of the global Satanic Clergy. He knew he must look a sight, his face blotchy and as red as his scarlet cassock. And yet his grief kept him here, weighed down like a stone in the stream of busy people moving along the corridor.

“We must say goodbye and I do not think I know how to, little one,” Copiah sniffed, wiping away a stray tear with the end of his fascia and absently scratching between the ears of the nut-brown rat in his lap.

He knew Sister Imperator was right of course. The logistics of the tour would be complicated enough without having to factor in transporting Eliza with them; the hotels and tour buses they must use would see her as vermin, not as the beloved pet she was. And she was getting old, it wouldn’t really be fair on her.

The bench shifting next to him roused him from his musings, making him startle until he looked, bleary-eyed, into the kind face of his oldest brother, Primo.

“I never did care much for this hallway,” the retired Papa groaned as he stretched out his legs in front of him. “Too drafty. Which is probably not good for the little one, eh?” He held his hand out towards the rat, who cautiously climbed into his and regarded him with twitching whiskers.

“I don’t know that there is any place good for her anymore. I must find her a new home but…who will want her? She is not so young anymore…Who can I trust to take care of her?” Copia replied, attempting to disguise the way his voice cracked by clearing his throat. “Sorry, I…I am being silly.”

Primo nodded thoughtfully as he stroked the rat with a single finger. Eventually, he placed the creature on Copia’s shoulder and heaved himself to his feet with a huff. “I may have a solution. Come.”

The older man had started to head off down the corridor before Copia had a chance to ask a question or compose his tear-stained state. Sure, now he can be sprightly he grumbled to himself, struggling to catch him up down the corridor.

They walked through the endless, labyrinthine corridors until Primo led them out into the gardens, past the greenhouses where Copia assumed the man spent most of his retirement. He hadn’t seen this dark, tucked-away section of the grounds before though. When they reached a gate set into some tall hedges, he gave Eliza a fond pat to soothe himself as much as to reassure her, and finally interrupted his brother’s contented humming. It sounded suspiciously like All Things Bright and Beautiful. “Where are we going?”

Primo beamed as he opened the gate and waved for Copia to enter.

His eyes widened as he gazed at the scene before him. A huge circular space; a stunning meadow flower bed at the centre and outlined by ornate aviaries filled with plants and shrubs. The roof of each structure was the green hue of oxidised copper and reminded Copia of the gothic bandstands he’d seen in older parks. They even had the pre-requisite spooky ravens and crows scattered around their wrought gables. Some had open mesh walls while others were enclosed by glass or blacked out entirely.

“I do not know when this structure was first built. Probably back when collecting animals was fashionable. Humans have always sought animals – especially birds – a symbol of status. Of power,” Primo hummed as he started to walk a lazy circuit, stopping to peer in at the two barn owls perched in a distant corner of the first aviary. Copia placed a protective hand over Eliza, but the birds merely ruffled their feathers sleepily and resumed their daytime slumber. “I restored this place, but like our Abbey, I aimed to offer sanctuary to all who needed it. Especially those who’ve been harmed by our ridiculous superstitions.”  

“So, it’s like a menagerie of the damned?” Copia murmured, walking further along and taking in more owls, ravens and a raptor didn’t recognise. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he caught the amber gaze of a fox before it darted into the greenery.

His older brother chuckled. “You could say that I suppose. We leave the hatches open to allow the birds and bats to fly free. I think you’ll be more interested in what’s at the other end though,” he nodded for him to follow towards the enclosed area on the other side of the circle.

The balmy warmth hit them the moment the door opened. A Sister of Sin looked up and smiled, apparently in the middle of cleaning out a huge stack of cages where a dozen or so mice happily scampered about. “Sister Frances,” he nodded kindly.

After sitting subdued on his shoulder, Eliza suddenly perked up and began chittering loudly in Copia’s ear. He soon saw why. At the other side of the former aviary was a huge enclosure, filled with toys, scattered bedding and the curious faces of three other rats. “Oh!” he gasped, unable to resist moving towards them.

Sister Frances followed, opening the front and allowing the three of them to skitter up her arm, where they peered curiously at newcomers. “Cannoli, Cornetto and Confetti. Papa always did have a sweet tooth,” she grinned up at Primo before returning her attention to the rat on Copia’s shoulder. “And who is this?”

“A new resident, perhaps,” Primo said placing a hand on Copia’s other shoulder. “If you are happy for Eliza to come here, it would be our privilege to care for her. And you’re welcome to come and see her at any time.”

Copia’s momentary delight in the rats evaporated into the muggy heat of the small building and he felt his expression pinch again. His treacherous tears spilled down his cheeks before he could stop them. “Sorry,” he mumbled, averting his gaze away from Primo and the Sister. “You must think I’m a pathetic fool.”

“Of course not,” Sister Frances murmured kindly, holding out her arm for Eliza to climb up so she could sniff at the other rats. “It’s always hard to say goodbye.”

“Indeed, fratellino,” Primo sighed. “You think you are being silly but let me tell you…not so far away we have a space where we lay departed souls to rest and there are plenty of our animal friends there. Terzo’s cat, Morpheus for one. Even Secondo’s snake. He dug the grave himself. We are not Catholics; we do not deny our animal friends a soul. If you love another living being there is nothing trivial about that love, si?”

Copia nodded with a hiccup, watching as the Sister placed the rats in the enclosure. He managed a watery smile as the three of them showed Eliza around the toys and feeding stations, like little realtors bragging about a property’s granite countertops and fitted wardrobes. “She looks like she fits right in,” he mused.

“She does. She’s very welcome. And we will take excellent care of here, fratellino, I promise you.”

Vote because Project 2025 is dangerous to you and all those you love

You guys realize this means we ALL have to vote now. No "don't wanna vote biden" excuses now- if we don't vote our rights are going to be taken away.

Not me pulling up in your driveway like I live there, listening to my favorite Swedish satanic band, bringing you your Doordash order.

Reverie's Ghoul Kit Masterlist

Ghoul Kits:

Calida (Dewdrop/Step-Dad Aether): (CW) Basic Stuff. , More Step-Dad! , Over the Phone. , (CW) On DVD. , (CW) Daughter? , Gender Reveal. , Sister Imperator , Learning About Her Real Father. , On a Plane.

Starshine (Dewdrop/Aether): Another Baby.

Ember, Orion, Lily (Rain/Everyone): First Day of School. , General Pregnancy Talk.

Comet (Aether/Phantom): Finding Out. , On Tour. , First Steps.

Venus (Terzo/Omega): In a Perfect World.

Age Reg: Phantom - Baby's Day Out.

Kit Dewdrop: Little Fishy Writing.

Ghoul Kit Upbringing.

Sister & Mist.

How in the actual fuck did that happen? Why?