#wait the first time i wrote something swiss/aeon it was murder ghouls this is perfect

[coffeeghoulie]

for the kiss prompt, 20 with aeon/Swiss?

Ah yes, my darling boys (gn). This one got a little bit angsty, mentions of some Siblings being cruel and a little bit of implied murder ghouls at the end. Hope you enjoy!

#20: on a scar (also this prompt sent me when i looked up what number it was, I literally had to cover my mouth at my desk to keep from squealing, it's perfect for them)

Prompt from this list

Swiss finds Aeon in their shared bathroom, leaning heavily against the sink counter. Their knuckles are almost white with how hard they grab it, and they stare quietly at their own reflection in the mirror. The air is bitter, Aeon's scent radiating sheer distress, and Swiss's hands tense.

They flinch slightly when Swiss presses his chest to their back, hooking his chin over the top of their head, hands gentle on their waist. "There's my buggy," he hums, pressing a kiss to the crown of their head, where black hair meets white. "I've been looking all over for you. Thought you finished chores ages ago."

At the mention of chores, Aeon flinches harder, their good eye darting up to his reflection. "I did," they whisper, voice smaller than Swiss's heard it in months.

Swiss hums again. "I'm not very good at this, bug, but I don't have to read your mind to know something's wrong. What's troubling you, sweetheart?"

Aeon tenses again, gaze turning to the left side of their face, where the long-scarred claw marks rake over their blind eye, marring their cheek, their forehead, one of their horns. Their breathing begins to quicken, and Swiss can feel their pulse racing.

"Swiss," they begin, voice a little shaky. "Is there any way for us to change what our glamour makes us look like?"

His brow furrows, leaning down to press another kiss into their hair. "No, bug, it only hides the parts of us that don't pass as human. Horns, teeth, tails, things like that. I'm sorry. What's wrong with your glamour?"

Aeon makes a choked little noise, their eyes suddenly glassy and wet. They turn in Swiss's arms, and Swiss only just barely dodges their sharp little horn as they bury their face in his collarbone. "I think they thought I couldn't hear them," Aeon whispers just loud enough for Swiss to hear. "I think they thought because I'm blind on my left side, that ear doesn't work either, but it's just torn, I can hear just fine."

Swiss hums, a low distressed tone. His hands trail up between their shoulderblades, holding them close. "They? Buggy, sweetheart, what's goin' on?"

He can feel more than hear the barely stifled sob they let out, swaying gently with them as he tries to soothe them.

"Some of the Siblings who were cleaning the chapel with me," Aeon whispers. "They keep talking about me and my scars. Said they made me look like a freak. And they've called me other names, that I don't wanna say."

Swiss can't help it. His grip around them tightens, pulling them closer to him, and he feels the growl bubbling up from deep in his chest. Aeon squeaks, struggling in his arms, and Swiss feels his heart shatter like a wine glass thrown against a wall. He relaxes his grip, chuffing apologetically into their hair. "Not mad at you, promise I'm not mad at you, sweetheart."

"Swiss," they whisper, bringing a hand up to scrub at their eyes, wincing as they press too hard on their damaged left eye.

"Hey, hey, can you look at me?" Swiss breathes, hands shifting to cup their cheeks, stepping back just far enough to tip Aeon's chin up.

Aeon's lower lip wobbles, but they meet his eyes. He smiles, soft and warm, thumbs smoothing away a tear threatening to fall.

"There's my buggy," he coos, leaning in and kissing their cheek, just over the scar that runs over their eye. "What those Siblings say doesn't mean shit, Aeon. I'm sorry they can be assholes. You are not a freak, bug. We love you so much. I love you so much."

Aeon offers him a little smile, leaning into his touch. "Love you too."

Swiss grins, bright and a little wild. "Do you know who it was? Who was saying awful things about you?"

"I know a couple names," Aeon whispers, their good eye darting across his face.

"That's very good, buggy," Swiss says, an expression he knows Aeon's never seen twisting his grin, a particular kind of glint behind his gold eyes. "Because one of the best parts of being a ghoul in Papa's pack at the Ministry? We can make sure they never say anything like that ever again."

In his arms, Aeon grins.