#ghost pred

[acidbathlove]

carmella my ghost lady

she loves to eat old men, but today its more of a balanced diet.

hope yall like her

[jack-the-nibbler]

Voretober Day 4: Haunt

It's an old, beautiful house, quite cheap on the market. So you probably should have expected some trouble from the previous owners...

At first you had wondered why the house had been so cheap. Yes, it was old and in need of some refurbishments, but you didn’t mind that at all. The realtor had told you that many people had complaints of noise, and other things that they refused to disclose. Yes, the atmosphere was a bit eerie, and there were some weird groaning noises coming from the pipes at night, but you could adapt.

But then it became more than just pipes. Sometimes the faucets ran with blood red liquid. The flowers out in the garden seemed to hiss and snap at you. When you got out of the shower, you’d find messages like “GET OUT” and “LEAVE” written on the mirror. There was no doubt that a previous occupant was not happy that you were here. But you didn’t care. Ghost or not, there was no way you were moving back to your dingy old apartment.

One night, you found yourself unable to rest. That eerie atmosphere had been intensifying all week, and throughout the day you felt like you were being watched, glared at. Dread slowly crept through you, fear seeping into your bones, and you couldn’t understand why.

Your bedroom door suddenly swung open. You gasped, pulling the covers up to your face, daring to peek. There was a man standing there; he had handsome, sharp features and a somewhat chubby belly. He wore a top hat that paired perfectly with his Victorian era suit, and a scowl on his face.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” he muttered, marching up to you. “But that ends tonight!” You shook your head, your voice caught in your throat. The gentleman had an otherworldly glow about him, and his hands were like a freezing mist as he grasped your shoulders, devoid of the warmth of life. “This has worked on everyone before you, no reason it should fail now.”

“W-Wait-!” you cried out, watching with wide eyes as he lunged forward, easily engulfing your head in his mouth. Unfortunately he wasn’t as incorporeal as he looked, and your hopes that you would phase right through him were snuffed out as ectoplasmic saliva dripped down your cheek. The specter kept a tight hold on you, gripping your arms as he forced your head and shoulders into his flexible throat.

You whimpered as you slid down the ghostly gentleman’s gullet inch by inch. It was now crystal clear why all the other buyers had left. You couldn’t blame them now…your panicking mind was racing. Would this angry specter have mercy on you? Were you about to be digested by a dead man? Your legs kicked wildly, but your devourer wasn’t bothered at all. He held onto your hips, his belly expanding as your legs were slurped down with frightening efficiency.

As the ghost’s belly rounded out, you found that you could actually see out into your bedroom. You reached out, vainly hoping that you could push your arm through to the outside. But your hand pressed against a gooey stomach wall, refusing to yield enough for you to break free. Your legs joined you in the slimy pouch, forcing you to curl up within. You sat in shock, gingerly pushing around. Your struggles soon picked up, intensifying with your urge not to stew within this man’s otherworldly guts.

“Why are you doing this?!” you cried, pushing against the walls of your slimy, spectral prison. “I didn’t mean any harm!” The ghost pressed down on you and scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t…You’d just be gutting our home, tearing everything we cherished apart and forcing us to endure years of our afterlife putting up with you and your rowdy activities!” he growled. He glared down at you through his clear stomach walls, making you meekly shrink back.

“N-no, I wasn’t going to do that…hell, I can’t even afford to do that…” you said softly, shivering. “If I wanted that, I would have just moved to the city. I really do like this place…”

The specter fell silent, a hand resting over your form. He mulled over your words, his harsh gaze gradually softening the more he looked over you. You seemed genuine, just confused and scared. He’d swallowed and scared away plenty of other residents, but this time guilt was starting to creep in.

“Oh…perhaps I judged you too soon…I apologize…” he said, carefully rubbing over you. “I won’t chase you out, then. As long as you don’t mind living with ghosts.” Relief instantly swept over you. You sighed, laying back within his gut.

“So…you’ll let me out?” You asked. You felt safer now, especially since you didn’t feel any tingling or other signs of digestion. It was just horribly slimy, and just a bit chilly. Not to mention sticky too…but you could actually get used to this otherwise.

“Yes…in the morning. I’ll even help you wash the ectoplasm out of your clothes,” he said. “My name is Garrett, by the way. We can talk more in the morning.” Garrett laid back, pulling the blanket up over his full belly. “I think my husband will like you.”

Oh well…you nestled in slightly, soothed by Garrett caressing your form. The blanket at least helped to warm you up a bit. Another presence soon joined him in bed, their own spectral hand resting over you. It helped to soothe you further after that fright. You slowly drifted off, having quite a lot to look forward to tomorrow…

[aristobun]

lol.   i   should   have   anticipated   helene   falling   in   love   with   the   city   hunter   because   of   what   he   has   done   over   the   last   month   or   two,   killing   joel   being   one   of   them.   he's   saved   her   from   a   lot   of   things   since   they   met   to   be   fair.   i'm   not   surprised,   but   i'm   annoyed   that   it   has   reached   the   love   stage,   haha.

[acridoblivionwater]

i've been thinking and i have monsterboy pred concepts. firstly, you have a ghost. his name's calypso and i think i like him a lot.

[hungryfan45]

I am a voracious ghost that’s been wanting to devour Phil Dunster for years. But ghosts can't eat the living, though they can eat other ghosts. Halloween magic gives me the chance to act. I tracked Phil down, who was with Brett Goldstein through a haunted house for some spooks, and fun, the perfect chance I’ve been waiting for. While Phil is goofing around I possess Brett’s body. He turns around to see me drooling at his scent “Brett, what are you-” he’s cut off by my mouth engulfing him and sending him into Brett’s belly. Phil is screaming and struggling, but he’s shown no mercy from the belly, and he gets churned away into belly fat. As his ghost floats away from Brett’s body, I leave the body and lunge at him, mouth agape again. He’s caught off guard and surprised to see another pred. Phil is guzzled up and tucked in my spectral belly, where he will haunt my tummy forevermore.

Happy Halloween.

[gulkgulkgulkgulk]

Doesn't It ever happen that you have so many ocs that you're still yet to draw and want to but

Excecutive discfuntion and procatination

[glitterxshlutt]

Chapter Threeeeeeee

[maw-and-pawp]

A ghost of a past prey is haunting the pred who ate them. They eventually become a strong enough poltergeist to stage a revenge plot.

Ghost: remember me, bitch?

Pred, dangling by their legs over a pot of boiling oil: I don't even know who you are!

[benjaminthewolf]

Garcello Gives You Snuggles (Remastered)

The difference between this and the original is night and day, and I couldn't be more happier at my improvement.

****

     The only two things your ears are able to detect in the present moment are both the ragged, labored, desperate huffing of your oxygen-depleted, withered lungs, as well as the overheating, cramping, constant, pounding of your poor, throbbing, shriveled little heart, as your all but entirely numbed feet continue aimlessly striking their force against the concrete of the filthy city sidewalk right below. With a form so utterly miniscule against the relatively gigantic world all around you, there could be no better display of cruel irony as to just how, exactly, your emotions had engulfed your being. Especially in the dead of night.

     Vigorously forcing your body as such to do whatever it physically could to hold back your sight-submerging, stinging flood of minuscule tears, if for no other reason than your lungs’ momentary inability to handle the inevitably resulting gasping and wheezing, you were now all but rendered physically unable to continue in any direction but forwards, for the energy required to overcome your present inertia in said direction would prove simply far too much for your body to actually handle. Still, you carried on with your sprinting. 

     And then, just like that, your form was struck with the oxymoronic comforting shock from an equally as oxymoronic mysterious, yet familiar, teal glow. It didn’t matter in the slightest that you couldn’t detect rigid shapes for the moment, as all the information you already had was undeniably more than enough for you to piece together what was happening.

     Your being instinctively swivels its current momentum, the wavering sparks of what could barely be described as hope for anything making use of its natural inertia to practically fling your poor form into the alleyway. Ignoring in its entirety the consequential pain of skidding against the rough asphalt seconds later, you instantly force your head up in order to confirm with absolute certainty your past assumptions about the teal glow.

     Low and behold, there he is, and quite thankfully for your horridly gagging, strained lungs, you are not even forced to call his name in order to get his attention.

“Woah! Hey there, little one! I….didn’t know you were there!” the ethereal, wispy ghost form of the man only known as Garcello gently addresses your battered, jittering, scraped-up being whilst simultaneously attempting to carefully scoop it all up in his hands. As he does this, the one, single, little thing you can get your quavering self to do now is just cry. Now that your body didn’t have to focus on running, it could instead redirect all that energy to what it had previously held back for so long, and for that exact reason as well.

     “Awww…. Hey now, hey now, it's perfectly okay for you to cry. I have absolutely no idea what’s happened to you, but you gotta be able to trust me when I say that whatever you experienced back there, it cannot hurt you right now. And that means it's safe to let it out.” Garcello softly explains to your torrentally sobbing, trembling being as he tenderly snuggles you against his dark teal abdomen.

     You absolutely didn’t need to be told to keep crying to keep crying. Nonetheless, in essentially instant response to the tender, sympathetic, soothing words of the ghost, you promptly bury your face in his t-shirt and immediately unleash the, somehow, now even harsher flow of your tears into the soft, ghostly, thin, silky fabric. Garcello says absolutely nothing as you only continue to bawl. Neither of you had even the slightest clue as to just how long this scene lasted. Yet, upon your fierce wailing giving way to pained sniffling, Garcello still doesn’t dare to break the silence.

     Eventually, however, you do remove your face from his abdomen. And that was when the words began to come. It wasn’t an elegant, nor a succinct explanation by any stretch of the imagination, but you couldn’t care less about that. All that you cared about was that someone was legitimately taking the time to let you incessantly ramble on about what exactly had happened to you, and was actually paying attention with intent of helping you recover from the experiences you’d revealed after the fact. Once again, the time it took for you to finish your rabid release could’ve been anywhere from five minutes to half an hour, neither of you had any way to know with any certainty. And, once again, Garcello remains completely and utterly silent as you just continue to rave about…well, pretty much everything you needed to rave about. It wasn’t until he was absolutely, positively sure you were finished that he finally took in a breath to start talking.

     “First of all, I just want to say that you are very brave for telling me this. Ultimately, the only way that you can get proper help is to talk to someone about what you’ve gone through. And I guarantee you, there ARE people out there who can help. …professionally I mean. Ya know, like licensed therapists, and…obviously I’m not one of those, so… But yes, talking about all this is a very big step. I can see you’re already jittering a whole lot less because of it. Just letting out all your emotions verbally can be a huge factor in regaining control in these kinds of situations.”

     Garcello takes a moment to pause as you continue your exhausted heaving.

     “For right now, you just need to keep breathing. I don’t want to overwhelm you any further by diving into the nuance of what you’ve told me. Just breathe in and out. That’s it. I’ve got ahold of you. Nothing can hurt you right now. You’re safe.”

     Your positively drained, depleted being proceeds to tremble only slightly as it softly wells up with more tears. A far less violent flow begins to stream its way out of your eyes as you once again bury yourself inside Garcello’s abdomen. The squishy, comfortable, warm flesh seems to somewhat wrap itself up around your being as you lean into it, whilst the places it couldn’t reach, such as your back, are gently caressed by the ghost’s delicate fingers. And that’s when you started to hear it.

     The low-pitched, subtle grumbles tucked away behind many layers of ghostly flesh immediately grab your attention whilst the gears inside your head begin turning. Garcello is slightly confused at first, but upon you turning your head to the side just a little, in order to squish it into his midsection, he begins to understand your thought process as well. 

     “Do you…do you wanna go in there?” he eventually manages to ask. 

     All you would give in response was a vigorous flurry of nods, prompting the ghostly teal man to let out a short, friendly chuckle.

     “Well, it is nice and warm in there! Makes a great resting spot I suppose!” he affirmingly speaks with a smile, whilst raising you up towards his face. “...and let’s be honest, you really need a good rest after all this…so yeah! You can stay in there for a while!”

     You are now inches from the ghost’s mouth, waiting patiently for the reveal. 

     “...just let me know if my smoker breath is still there…I wouldn’t want ya to have to suffer from that because of me…” Garcello hesitantly requests as a great twinge begins to form across his face.

     You briefly reassure Garcello that if he did still have smoker breath, you would’ve definitely picked it up by now. And since you smelled none, that meant it was certainly gone.

     Garcello simply blushes just slightly in response, before swiftly thanking you for the reassurance. Now, there was only one more thing he had to do. And so, the unveiling commenced seconds later.

     The mint blue colored chamber starts to flow upon your body its natural, soothing, calm, inviting warmth, something which eagerly prompts you to start crawling all the way past Garcello’s lips, and therefore have the comfort douse over the whole of your being. 

     Over his incisor teeth you went, as a result, before you finally squished a single palm down into the smooth, slickened form of his tongue. Eagerly, yet carefully, hauling the rest of your body onto the muscle soon after, you almost instantly collapse down upon its soft, warm, pillowy surface, before nuzzling your cheek deep into it, in order to show your deep gratitude unto the teal man outside. 

     Once the ghostly owner of the tongue is absolutely certain it was safe to close his maw, he slowly brings his lips together, thus sealing you out from the cold, whilst his jaws lying past them parted just about as far as they could. This was because Garcello knew that you were far too exhausted by now to make your way towards his open, tight, and squishy gullet. Because of this, he needed to elicit the aid of good ol’ gravity in order to get you down to his gut. 

     You are soon able to sense the ghost’s tongue lifting up rather slowly and gingerly. You therefore give the muscle a slight pat to let him know you’re okay before it starts to slope down, and towards Garcello’s now gaping laryngopharynx. 

     The plump, rounded form of his uvula gently sways back and forth above the drop whilst you start to slide down the slick tongue. Gradually slipping downwards and towards Garcello’s ghostly throat, it isn’t very long before your form becomes lodged nice and tightly against his tonsils, whilst you start to gaze down into his trachea. Garcello’s slightly wavering vocal cords are then naturally covered up by the epiglottis as you are promptly squeezed into his esophagus. It takes one more gulp before your lower legs and feet slip all the way through the upper esophageal sphincter, but once this is accomplished at last, Garcello heaves out a slight sigh, before placing a couple fingers over the slight bulge in his throat. Now, his ghostly body would handle the rest.

     Casually floating over and towards the side of the alleyway as a result, Garcello sets himself down rather cautiously, not wanting the force of the motion to disturb your own journey within, before curling his ghost tail over his middle. Accompanying his ghost tail with both hands before the slight bulge in his throat disappears behind his collarbone, Garcello thus gives a slight smile. You on the inside were soon to pick up a soft heartbeat, and when you did, you would know you were close.

     Back on the inside, meanwhile, the warm, squishy squelchings of peristalsis from the throat muscles are able to massage your poor body as they continue to escort you on down. Sure enough, however, you did indeed pick up rather soon an ethereal, ghostly replication of a heartbeat, though the fact of it not being from a living source did little to make a meaningful difference. The wondrous, continual kneading pushes you deeper and deeper towards Garcello’s stomach as the heartbeat pounds gently within the ambient background of the ghost’s internal body.

     Eventually though, there was to be far more joining along with the baseline beat of the heart as both high-pitched and low-pitched gurgles and grumbles begin to echo about the awaiting chamber just below. With the lower esophageal sphincter coming into your sight seconds later, you are gently squelched out from the natural valve head-first, before at last, the rest of your body follows through, and you take the deep plunge down below.

     Promptly rising up from the harmless liquids sloshing around within Garcello’s warm, churning stomach, touching your feet down upon the very bottom of the shallow pool as you did, you then proceed to give a rather visceral full-body shake in utterly cathartic release of pent-up tension. And then, immediately after, in use of ol’ reliable once more, your utterly exhausted being flops directly onto the pillowy walls as your eyelids droop down and close your eyes. 

     Garcello on the outside is able to feel all this happening within his gut, and yet, decides not to interrupt you for the moment, as you did need to rest rather desperately. Slowly rubbing his hands all over his middle for a while, Garcello can sense you shifting around just a little deep within, presumably so you could find a more suitable sleeping position. For you down below within the walls, it wouldn’t take very long for you to fully accomplish this task. 

     Heaving out a gigantic yawn, you subtly nuzzle your head into the squishy, cushiony, heated form of the stomach walls as the gently sloshing liquids around you calmly envelop the lower half of your being. Slipping deeper and deeper into unconsciousness as the soft gut’s natural heat drags you further and further into comfort, the very last thing you could sense before finally falling asleep was, indeed, the constant white noise all around you. The gurgling, growling, and groaning of the stomach of the ghost who had saved you tonight. 

     Garcello on the outside only lets out a soft sigh of contentment as he senses you settling down against the squishy walls of his stomach.  

     “Goodnight, little one…” he whispers very quietly, as he himself begins closing his eyes very slowly. It would not be very long then, before the both of you were softly slumbering away in silent peace; both of Garcello’s hands against his rumbling stomach housing your tiny form deep within. 

[acidbathlove]

WIP of my ghost lady!!!

She be eating

[gluttozebub]

he's def will's lab partner alright cough

[aristobun]

that’s it. my prior rage has also left the building. we’re all doormats over here, lmao. i’m a sap, it’s fine. helene is a lost cause 💞💞

[voracious-trashcan]

Free lunch that's what happened.

[supernormalblogname]

love the idea of a ghost pred.... ghost preds with insatiable appetites from being dead for so long.. ghost preds snacking on unsuspecting paranormal investigators, maybe eating a whole a team of them by using its knowledge of the place it haunts corner them all one by one... ghost preds who love to scare and tease humans, or those who just Hate when humans invade their territory and find eating them the best way to get them to stop banging around.... ghost preds with glowy translucent ectoplasm tummies ❤️ yay

[nanamissuit]

Could you please do one with konig/ghost with gf who’s super girly? Like she loves pink and hello kitty and cats.

I was thinking it starts out fluffy like how they meet and then turns into smut later in the relationship. And for the gf to be around 19, short and with pink hair (describing me sorry it’s very indulgent) thank you :>

Pink - König

Pairing: Older!König x Younger!Fem Reader

Warnings: Oral, Slight violence, Age gap ((LEGAL!! We don't do that pred shit around here.)), Fluff

To say people were confused about your relationship was an understatement. I mean just look at you two.

He’s a 6’10 murdering army machine and not to mention extremely intimidating. But he’s usually quiet and reserved, but you? With your colorful hair and skirts with tops that were just the right amount of length to cover you. And your obsession with pink and hello kitty? No way he was into you.

But to everyone's surprise he was. Even with the age gap I mean you were 19 and he was 36? But what did he care, he was charmed by you the moment he saw you.

So that’s what gave him the courage to speak to you at a bar? How’d you sneak into a bar?

“Hm? Thought you were 19..” He snuck up next to you, “AH! Oh I’m sorry you scared me…König right?” You turned to look at him fully while holding out a hand. “And god no, my friend owns the bar and let’s me in.” He took your small hand into his. “I see, but a little young to be drinking, no?” You looked at him playfully rolling your eyes. “A little old to be hitting on me don’t ya think?” He chuckled and took his hand back, “You seem to not be wanting me to walk away so you tell me.”

And that’s how your relationship blossomed. He got your number, you texted all the time. Called when he could. And you loved when he came over to your place. He looked so out of place in your room, pink walls and basically a pink vanity with some white furniture and some hello kitty decor around. And your bed was full of stuffed animals. You actually had to buy a bigger bed to make sure König was comfortable in it.

You were doing your makeup as he laid in your bed adoring you and scrolling through his phone, until he noticed you had something on your mind. “I can tell that pretty heads thinking, wanna share?” You smiled at him and just came over to sit on his lap while holding a red lip gloss. “Sit still I wanna do something I saw online.” And he obliged as you left red lip kiss marks all over his face. “What are you doing, Schatz?” “Shh!! I’m gonna purposely mess up my lip gloss and you just have to wipe it off and look at me okay?” He nodded at you as you held up your phone.

That video you couldn’t post due to his job and the no-show face thing, so you had a better idea. Kiss all over his mask, and then post that one and so you did exactly that.

That video blew up due to the fact he looked at you so lovingly and the fact that people were so curious about your dynamic but you just smiled at the comments.

Further down the line in your relationship you had told him you thought you were ready for…Well he knew. He noticed you had bought lingerie but didn’t wanna make it seem like he was invading your privacy so he didn’t dare make a remark about it and waited till you walked into his bedroom with it on.

He didn’t hesitate at all looking at you for a nod of approval as he scooped you up and threw you onto his bed immediately diving in between your legs. “I’m sorry Meine Liebe…You just look so good in this, I promise I’ll buy you a new one.” You felt confusion until you heard a rip. He ripped your panties off as he didn’t hesitate to lick all over your clit.

I mean he even spelt his own name with his tongue while spelling out each letter for you to ride out your high to. “Don’t finish until the very last letter, Schatz, be a good girl.” You nodded at him as he went over all the letters and finally got to “G” You came directly in his mouth.

But besides all the sex and odd pairings there was one thing König had people call him in public, men you rejected mostly. Your “Sugar daddy” He hated it. Sure he spoiled you but he actually loves you, not those douchebag men. That’s why he punched some random man on the target line.

Even though you guys are an odd pair he loved everything about you, you were the most perfect and beautiful girl to him. He loved you so much he’d KILL for you. His perfect sweet girl.

AU of this incoming I swear...I loved this alot !! <3

[wri0thesley]

hello nat!! zooooming into your inbox to ask abt preadator/prey with gojo or geto (u can pick :3)

i think geto would be so weird about pred/prey

"You barely tried to run." Geto's voice is cool in your ear, his weight on you heavy and forbidding. Your own words get stuck in your throat at the sensation of him atop of you; at the way that one of his hand comes round to curl around your throat, long fingers sliding over the sensitive skin and lingering just a moment too long on your pulse point. Your heart is still beating fast from the adrenaline. "Really. What's the point of the game if you're not going to try?"

Though . . .

You hadn't wanted to run. Not really. Not in your heart of hearts. In the very centre of you, beneath all of that buried shame of abandoning your former classmates to follow Geto, you know that you would do anything for him. And you do not want to run from him. You want to lay down, to show him your belly like a prey animal who knows they are beaten. You want him to devour you, and you do not want to have to play the game for him to do it.

"Really," he murmurs, and he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth in a way that makes a whimper of want die in your throat. "You're quite useless."

"I'm . . . sorry--"

"Sorry doesn't make up for the wasted time," he says, and you can sense the curve of his smile, sharp like a knife, where it is still pressed against your jaw. His other hand strokes up the side of your body, feather-light, ghosting your hip and your waist and higher. He shifts his weight, the surprising broadness of his chest pressing right against yourshoulderblades, and the breath is fully knocked out of you. "Perhaps I ought to have asked someone else."

"N-no," you wheeze, and Geto gives a mean laugh. You hate that the pitch of it makes you whimper again, pressing your thighs together helplessly. Geto, of course, does not miss it - the hand that had stroked up your body moves, tangling your robes in its long fingers to pull them up to ruck about your hips.

"Pathetic," he half-sneers, half-coos - you always feel that way around him. Mean to you with a saccharine sweet edge that suggests if you ever stopped being so much fun to tease, he'd quickly lose interest. "You're so wet and I didn't even get to do half the things I wanted to."

To illustrate his point, he uses his knee to press your thighs apart - the fabric of his robe rubs against your exposed sex, and you try to protest but you're cut off by two long fingers, spreading you open. You don't wear underwear under your robes. Not any more.

"Oh," he says, faux sweetness dripping from him the same way your slick is dripping from your clenching hole. You whine again, helpless, a squeezed sound as Geto continues to lay upon you so you cannot draw breath. "Oh, how can you even think when you're like this?"

One finger presses into you in the briefest of moments, but it feels like it punches the air from your lungs. All too soon, he is pulling it out again - and you hear the unmistakeable wet sound of him popping it into his mouth, the pleased little 'aah' he makes at the taste of you. Your face burns.

Geto's weight abruptly shifts, and your leader - your God, the man you've promised yourself to heart and soul - stands up, dusting his robes off. He looks down at you with his face impassive, but his eyes are dark and blown wide; they are the eyes of a predator, utterly and completely.

"We're going to try again," he tells you. "And I do mean try. And if you don't try harder this time, darling . . . perhaps we'll let some of my curses play with you too."

He smiles. It is a smile he gives to patrons, to monkeys who give him their money to fund their silly ideas - a smile that suggests he is entirely in control, and you are just a pawn in his game. And so help you - you nod, getting to your feet shakily, trying to ignore the sensitivity between your legs. You take a shaking breath.

"Maybe," he says to you, as he crouches like a tiger about to strike. "The thought of them taking their turn with you first will make you run like you mean it."