redamancy ❣︎ ghost fics & drabbles

saut dans le vide, my lover - mountain x dewdrop (pt. 1)

this is part one an art/fic collab between myself and my wonderfully talented friend kenny on tumblr. you can find their page here: https://www.tumblr.com/kamonart

mountain x dewdrop

angst and smut

!! water!dew, rut cycles, first times, loss of virginity, size kink, tummy bulging, blood, rituals and summoning circles, mild corruption kink, unglamored ghouls, monster fucking, pain, suffering from lack of sexual relief, masturbation, anal fingering, sex as a distraction, and the guilt that follows, self-inflicted pain as a coping mechanism, mild dissociation, oral sex, anal sex, multiple orgasms, crying, mild choking, knotting, biting

i. summoning

the greatest tide washed up my prize, you

Five ghouls wait patiently together, quietly, idly, as they watch the sun descend in the sky and observe the anxious, back and forth pacing of their Papa as he makes sure that everything is in place for the hundredth time. Mountain stands tall, second in line with the rest of his pack, dressed head to toe in their ritual robes–long, heavy cloaks that cover each ghoulish vessel in a curtain of darkness and hide their features behind a haze of shadows.

Anonymous.

Nameless.

As unclaimed to their Papa as the day they were picked up from the floor.

They stand motionless with their hands clasped behind their backs, each of them shoulder to shoulder, and count down the final moments that the sun creeps across the stone, casting rainbow colored light across every surface, dying out by the second until it sets, disappearing below the horizon.

They've done everything correctly until this point. The sconces have been long extinguished, the smell of smoke dissipates into the air, and the massive summoning circle drawn with lines as dark as coal lies starkly against the floor. Marked by ancient sigils and surrounded by offerings to the ones below, six candles flicker from where they've been laid to rest. To burn. Flames dance atop burgundy pools of wax. Omega stands like a pillar on the circle's opposite side, a leather-bound book written in Ancient Infernal cradled between his palms, waiting with the rest of the ghouls for the sky to go dark.

Tonight, they'll summon a new member of their pack, pull one deep down below up to the surface. Fresh blood for the Ghost Project.

All that there is left to do is wait.

Mountain sways side to side on the balls of his feet to distract himself from the soreness in his knees and the aching in his stomach. It's the turn of the spring equinox, the annual awakening of his rut cycle, and the massive ghoul traces the thin cracks in the floor with his eyes to their beginnings and their ends in an attempt to make the seconds tick by faster and to focus on anything else but the dull churning feeling in his belly.

He'd felt it come alive as he'd watched the sun come up that morning, and had waited the entire day for it to settle–to choose his partner–but it never had. It had just rolled and retracted in his core like the rolling of the waves on the lake's edge. Even. Calm, yet always there, almost teasing him to search them out himself like a game of hide and seek. Even now, as the last of the daylight fades away and Omega raises his chin towards the ceiling to scent the air, it simply sits heavy in his gut and refuses to drop down into his groin...Odd and uncomfortable.