#poor copia

[ollies-station]

[papasmicstand]

See, he's okie dokie friends. Just hit so hard he got his old face back 🤷🏻

[iamtherealaetherghoul]

It wasn’t that Copia hated Perpetua, it was the opposite actually. He was scared. Scared of getting too close and losing Perpetua, just like he had lost everyone who he was close to in his life.

The Ministry murdered his brothers, his mother had just died, and the Ministry put their bodies on display for all to see, then he lost his title.

Everything he worked towards, everything he sacrificed to be what the Ministry wanted, just ripped from him. Then this new guy just shows up and takes it all. His ghouls, his title, his room, his office, all of it.

Everything was gone. He had nothing and then everyone started ignoring him or treating him like a bratty child. A child he never got to be because he had to grow up to soon to be what his father wanted.

And Copia knows it’s not Perpetua’s fault, the Ministry left them both in the dark, but he needed someone to be angry at, to scream and yell and cry to try and feel less out of control, and his twin was the sacrifice for that anger.

[honey-and-flies]

Hello I’m back with the twt links. Srry for not giving a warning last time, it didn’t cross my mind since this is a fairly nsfw blood T-T This link is the same account and same typa post.

It makes me think of Perpetua/Copia :3 given that we’ve rambled abt Perpetua nonconning Copia and giving him non-con body mods, I can toooootally see Perpetua doing this with Copia hehe

https://x.com/ver45sk/status/1941116754375397708?s=46&t=5mtfC6YaVryb1kAdhvp5gQ

i appreciate the warning just so i know what to expect, so thank you!

[mintea-in-space]

The Rumble That’s Calling Part Four

Read on Ao3 here

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

When Copia opens the door to his ghouls’ den all hell breaks loose. A slurry of questions is thrown at him, loud chirps and chittering filling the common room. He can’t make heads or tails of it, silently moving to drop onto the couch and cover his mouth with shaking hands. Mismatched eyes seems to stare into space, and after a moment they seem to realize he’s not listening to any of them. Tears blur Copia’s vision, overflowing and streaming down his cheeks as he tries not to sob. The ache in his chest is nearly overwhelming.

He startles when someone sits next to him, violet eyes meeting his. Aether. A steady hand is placed on his shoulder, and Copia can’t help but lean into it, desperately needing contact to ground himself. The others slowly surround him, sitting next to him and on the floor at his feet. “I’m sorry.” The words just barely claw their way from his throat. “I don’t know- it’s impossible. It- there’s no way-“

Dewdrop whines and bumps his head against Copia’s shoulder. “We- we didn’t do anything different, right? How- fuck, Papa he even smells the exact same-” The smaller ghoul is shaking like a leaf, and Copia almost breaks at the sound of his voice wavering.

“Satan below, and Omega’s face. I never want to see that expression on him ever again.” Copia chokes back another sob, gloved fingers turning white as they run across his face. “It has to be him. Doesn’t it? How else- but his memory. Why- fuck, why doesn’t he remember us?”

Mountain sighs from where he’s leaning against the back of the couch. “I don’t think we’re going to get any answers tonight, Copia.”

Aether nods. “We…we should get some rest. I can…I can show him around tomorrow, see what I can find out. If his soul really is the same then we’ll need to find a way to bring his memory back.”

His words settle like a dark cloud, weighted and sparking. After a long silence, Copia groans and tosses his mitre to the coffee table. “I’m going to stay here, if that’s okay. I don’t….I don’t think I can bear to be alone tonight.”

The others slowly stand, whispers of goodnight filling the air as they each press a kiss to Copia’s cheek. Eventually, only Aether, Dewdrop, and Mountain remain. The fire ghoul is clinging to Copia’s arm, and as the man stands Aether wraps an arm around his shoulders. The four of them end up in the room Dewdrop and Aether share, the air thick with grief and confusion. Sparkling robes and uniforms drop piece by piece to the floor, and Copia ends up in the middle of the three ghouls. Aether has his face tucked into his neck, a thick arm draped over his middle. Dewdrop curls up at his side, still trembling when Copia wraps an arm around him. Bare fingers play with the fire ghoul’s hair as Mountain curls around Dewdrop. The man stares at the ceiling, willing himself to relax enough to sleep. Mountain presses a kiss to his temple, the closeness helping but not by much.

What if it was his fault? What if Copia fucked up the ritual somehow? What if Terzo’s memories never come back? Could he live with that? Knowing that not only did he indirectly kill the man, but also essentially erased him from existence altogether.

Dewdrop whimpers in his sleep, hands twitching and tail curling around Copia’s thigh. The fire ghoul’s ears are pinned back, face scrunched. Copia pets through his hair best he can, a weak attempt at soothing him as his mind races. How could he look Omega in the eye again and tell him he now has to train this ghoul, this ghoul that bears his dead lover’s eyes and face? And what about his old pack? With how distraught Dewdrop is, he can’t imagine what the ghouls who came before would feel about it.

Seconds tick by in the dark, the only sound coming from Dewdrop. Even with the steady breathing of his ghouls Copia can’t seem to relax, too high strung for sleep to take him. He knows only one thing for sure, the clergy, and his flock, cannot find out about this. The chaos it would cause…he shudders to think about what Sister would do if she caught him. He adores the woman, he really does, but her methods tend to be a bit more…ruthless, than he’d like. And she already killed him once…

Copia’s stomach churns, bile burning the back of his throat. They have to keep this a secret. Thunder cannot be let out and about without a proper mask, without protection. There are too many risks. He closes his eyes. Tomorrow he’ll go down to the uniform department and see if they have a spare mask Thunder can use until he’s properly fitted. A groan slips from his mouth. And Satan below what uniform should he even have? The thought of dressing Terzo up in a vest and jacket like one of Copia’s ghouls is so absurd he nearly laughs out loud. Then again, the era four uniforms that have become widely standard for non performing ghouls also just don’t seem right. Perhaps…perhaps the era three? Copia hums. It would be fitting after all, for him to wear the uniforms Terzo picked out.

Aether noses a little further into his neck as Copia nods to himself. He’ll tell the bigger ghoul in the morning what the plan is, the sooner Thunder can be masked and in uniform the better. He can at least start training in the main den, and once he has a mask, he’ll be able to come and go as he wishes. Hopefully Thunder won’t be nearly as picky with his uniform as Terzo was, although somehow Copia doubts it. The ghoul still has his mannerisms after all, perhaps some things never really change. A few tears slip down his cheeks.

Clinging to the shred of a game plan he has, Copia shifts a little to get bit more comfortable before sighing. “Please, Unholy Father, please let things be just be a bit better in the morning?” He whispers, and at long last exhaustion sinks in and he falls asleep.

[ramblingoak]

hi oak

on a scale of 1-10 how distressed is copia when you leave this in the coffee maker

A solid 8. Because one, you ruined his coffee maker. And two you'd have to explain who Papa Johns is.

[running-ace21]

Copia hates being weighed. He will avoid it if possible. When he gets weighed at his doctors appointment he refuses to look at the scale or be told what he weighs, but the shocked look on the doctors face and the low whistle they give let's him know he's a fair bit heavier than last time.

The doctor comments "at least I know you're eating good," as they input his weight into his medical record.

Copia didn't even need to see the number on the scale to know that he can barely fit into his clothes.

[retrocatastrophy]

“What’s his problem with me??”

Adventures of Pestilence and his fellow horsemen. 

Dogs don’t like Copia. Poor fellow once got chased for an hour through the city, and his fellow riders did little to help him.