#demon male possession

[pinkchangelingdemon]

Dealing with demons in a basement isn't is the best idea

This is the story of sweet naive Mark and his friend Michael.

A mortal month ago, Michael was helping his friend Mark store the christmas decorations in the basement of the buidling where Mark lived with his mother, and they "accidentally" summoned a demon. At first they thought he was the hot dude Mark's mother pays rent every month, I mean, I looked exactly like an exact naked copy of that stud but my eyes gave me away. You know, when I'm weak, even if I shapeshift, they are still red and glow.

You should have seen their faces! they couldn't keep their eyes away from the snake hanging between my legs. They were almost hipnotized by it. So when I offered them to make a deal, to give them the ability to possess hot dudes like me... while of course teasing them stroking that enormous dick... the fools said yes without hesitation.

After that, I dramatically vanished laughing while turning into a red mist.

If it wasn't for both of them being there with me, they would have thought they went crazy.

Back at Mark's house... of course I followed them inside that horrible building... well, they were still processing what just happended when they heard a knock in the door. Mark was the one to open it.

It was a plumber, sent by my lovely friend, the landlord.

He was a young and fit plumber, maybe my friend had a "personal interview" with him before sending him to that floor. Hehe

What? I am a lust demon what do you expect?

Ugh your are the worst! The point is while Mark was with the plumber, Michael was alone, falling asleep after carrying so many boxes. So a few whispers in his ear on how to use his new power and... the plumber started coughing.

Mark was about to call for help, but before he could do it, the plumber started to undress in front of him.

"what the fuck!?""It worked, Mark","M...Michael?" "Oh fuck his dick is HUGE!"

No more words were needed. The three of them made their way inside the house, were a innocent plumber helped two twenty years old nerds loose their virgnity betweed moans. Well, yeah, of course the plumber enjoyed it! After all, it was his dick the one used to make that horny nerd scream! But he also loose something that day, money! hahaha!

But here's the thing...after the first round, Mark suggested if he could top the plumber straight ass. Michael said no.

Other idea popped his mind, maybe let Mark borrow the body for a while. Same answer, no.

They both got annoyed, argued until Michael left still inside the plumbers body.

They fighted and fighted and fighted. He used to be a shy kind guy, but after possessing the plumber he was mad with lust. My bad, I guess.

Every time Mark said he was going to possess someone, Michael possessed them first and made Mark his bitch.

No, he wasn't into it and got tired. So after one loud discussion inside the bodies of two gym hunks, they split up.

...

Last week, to Mark's surprise Michael called him. But when he answered instead of his effeminate voice, on the other side was a masculine voice and he was crying.

After helping him calm down, he explained everything to Mark.

I saw it, he was reckless. He was trying to possess one of the guys from a basketball team during their practice but the coach saw him coughing. He wasted no time and kissed him trying to do the Heimlich maneuver, but when he felt the coach lips, they lost consciouness.

After that he was stuck as Mr. Grayson, the coach... What? There hasn't been a situation like that in three mortal centuries!

Even with his meaty and strong body, Michael couldn't pretend. Yeah, he was consumed by lust... but living other mortal's life was too much for the dumbass. He couldn't even look at his wife!so he moved to one of the apartments in that cursed building where his friend lived. Yeah, where I was trapped by that bitch!

Everything was going according to my plan.

He had no money, so I convinced my friend, the landlord, to find another way for the coach ro "pay him"...

Of course they fucked, stupid! The whole building heard the moans every time the landlord's cock penetrated the virgin ass of the coach. I even took control of my friend to feel it first hand, and made that horny bitch scream.

After that, Michael instead of becoming one of my lust servants, he became a bitter prick. After all he lost his ability to possess other people, while his friend was having the time of his life.

Envy demons, right?

He quit his job as coach and the gym, after all he didn't know how to do shit. So his days consisted on eating, watching TV, masturbating and being bossy with his fool friend Mark.

"Bring me beer, bring me pizza, fix the wifi..." oh, Mark was furious. He even attracted a rage demon!

It only took a week. Michael was drunk and threw a bottle at Mark's face. Luckily I turned him intangible.

He was furious. He charged against the burly body of the coach, ignoring he was still intangible.

You already know the result, uh?

After coughing for a whole minute he was in control of coach Grayson and Michael too.

Before he could have second thoughts the doorbell rang.

It was my horny landlord ready for the payment of the second week, masturbating in front of him. Ah, I picked him well.

"Ready for round two" he said before entering the apartment, where again he fucked without mercy the coach now controlled by sweet naive Mark. With every penetration, Mark, Michael and coach Grayson moaned.

They didn't last long against my good servant. While a torrent of cum was liberated from their shared dick. I made sure to seal these two fools inside the body of their coach.

Clever, right?

Now every time they fuck, every time they moan, every time Mark have a horny thought, their three souls combined feed me their lust.

So... Who's paying this round?

.........................................................

Check out how the landlord was possessed by one of his tenants! Here:

[moyazaika]

squeaky clean; yandere. non/dub-con. heavily implied nsfw. mdni.

“i’m sorry– m’sorry, please! swear i won’t–!” your thighs ache, pressed painfully against the edge of the bathtub, held in place by cold, firm hands that refuse to relent, despite your very best efforts. “i won’t do it again. promise.”

“oh, yeah?” you feel the tug of his lips; a cruel smile against your bare shoulders, which shake with sobs that wrack your whole body. he can feel them, you know he can. he’s got your back pressed right up against his chest; he just doesn’t care. “how sorry are you, baby?”

“very very sorry, i swear!” with wide teary eyes, you turn to face the apathetic man behind you. he only looks down at you levelly, appraisal in those eyes, crinkled with amusement despite the facsimile of a loving, if not remorseful, boyfriend’s expression on his features–when he is anything but. 

not loving. not remorseful. and certainly, if the way he keeps you all locked up and confined to the halls of his home serves as any indication of how little your opinion of his unwanted, unrequited affection matters; not your boyfriend.

and yet, you bend over backwards in an attempt to keep him satisfied. how unfortunate it is that all your efforts were undone by a single moment of carelessness; the cathartic release of a convoluted, complicated rage; hard work and pandering and pliant disposition rendered void by a few stupid tumbling past your lips before you could stop to just fucking think.

but you don’t voice any of that to him. it’s not what he would want or care to hear. “i didn’t mean to–to be so rude. please, please, please don’t make me do this…”

a noncommittal hum; “you can do better than that, surely.”

“i’ll never do it again–promise, promise i won’t.” your pleas inevitably fall on deaf ears, breathy voice echoing within the vast, bleak bathroom you’ve ended up in; awaiting the punishment your captor intends to dole out, begging in a lovely little futile attempt for a compassion that the both of you know he does not possess. “i didn’t mean to, i swear! m’so sorry, i’ll be good from now on. i-i love you. i love you.”

lithe fingers dig into your jaw almost painfully, as he kisses his teeth in mock sympathy. “oh, baby. you poor thing, i know you're sorry.”

hope, unfurling in your chest as you allow yourself to let out a relieved sob, mercy—

“but it’s just no good now, is it?” 

you freeze, rooted to the spot. your heart physically drops; a weight that sits low in your belly, alongside the fear of how he’s going to make you pay for your mistake.

“should’ve thoughta that before ‘ya called me ‘psychopathic bastard' you wish would 'do the world a favour by dying.'” he recites your words gleefully, a light and playful tone that contrats his far more forceful hand, as he angles your face forward; the hand that was at the back of your thighs reaching out, muscles taut, you realise–terrified all over again, with restraint. “but no matter. we can fix that.”

you shake your head, curl away from the soap; and right back up against his hard chest. “please don’t”

“hush now, sweet thing. i’ll show you what happens next time you run your little mouth like that later. first,” he reaches for the silky pink bar of soap that rests on the bath caddy, and you hear the sound of mellifluous laughter, low in the back of his throat. “let’s wash that dirty mouth of yours out with some soap.”

“i’m sorry.” it’s a pathetic, useless apology that carries no weight. you know it as much as he does, and yet, you're still a mess of nerves before him, "i love you."

“you weren’t so sorry and sweet when you told me to go ‘suck a dick.’” he grins cruelly. “now how ‘bout you quit whining and get some of these suds in your mouth, so you can think twice next time ‘bout tellin’ me what to put in mine.”

and you've always been good; so why should this time be any different?

it's the oddest thing, though; even after the mortifying ordeal, the overwhelming aftertaste of the soap doesn't make you feel cleaner, so much as it makes you feel dirtier than before.

even more so than when he will place something far less sweeter against your lips hours later, repeating your own words back to you whilst you look up at him helplessly through long lashes, weighed down by your tears.

"'ts not there to stare at, baby. you wanna prove just how sorry you are?" he runs a hand through your hair when you only nod in response; words failing you, mouth squeaky-clean. "good. you've already shown me what a dirty mouth you have today..."

"now," he mockingly taps the side of your face with a single finger, looking down at you a pleased little smile that has lingered on his lips since his fingers were in your mouth, hours ago, forcing the bar of soap onto your tongue. "let's see you put it to work."

[idesofrevolution]

Cult of Personality

The blistering New Mexico heat bared down on Douglas' '99 Chevrolet Cavalier. The small blue coupe meandered up I-25, enroute from Las Cruces to Santa Fe. The old man quietly sighed to himself, fruitlessly trying to think of a better pitch to sell his Solar Panels to the rich folks up in Albuquerque. Las Cruces ended up being a bust, just as much as Tucson: the damn things were just too expensive up front. Not that the company gave a single damn, quotas are quotas. Thus, still empty handed, he passed the exit sign for Socorro- still an hour until he'd reach his destination.

As he passed the exit, he noticed a bright red glint a bit further up the road. Douglas adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes to see. He slowed down on the empty highway as the sight became clearer. It was a car. In fact, it was a bright red '67 Mustang; it's owner leaned on the hood as black smoke bellowed from the tailpipe. Douglas looked down at his watch, knowing fully well that he needed to be in Albuquerque before sundown. Though, as he approached the broken down muscle car, the sweltering heat of the Chihuahuan Desert at high noon would be a killer. The young man leaning on the car turned his head, not even sweating a single drop, and stared blankfaced at Douglas as he pulled up.

Douglas hit the brakes, stopping his car right alongside the young man. He strode up to the old man's car, leaning in and resting his elbows onto window ledge. His stoic expression slowly melted into a wide grin, licking his lips before he spoke.

"You headed toward Albuquerque?" A thick Texan accent flowed from the man's lips, his dark brown eyes nearly black even in the blinding light of the sun. Douglas felt an odd twinge of nervousness as the grinning young man casually smiled; it felt off. Behind that handsome visage, something was brewing within.

"I'm headed to Santa Fe, but I can call you a mechanic from Socorro, he'd be here in a jiffy!" The young man's smile didn't fade, he simply shook his head 'no.'

"Phone's got no service out here, brother. I sure would appreciate a ride. It's just a mile or so up the road." He turned, pointing down the seemingly endless highway. Before Douglas could deny the young man his request, the hitchhiker leaned in closely. It may have been the heat, or it may have been his exhaustion, but for no more than two seconds, he thought he'd heard whispers blowing in the wind. Douglas said nothing, and the young man's grin grew wider. "Thank you, brother. I'll hop in the back."

As he strode back to his car, grabbing a duffel bag from the trunk of his car, Douglas wanted to slam on the gas and blitz out of there. An air of menace surrounded this man, despite his magnetic charisma; yet his foot did not press down on the pedal. The passenger side door opened, as the man hopped into the back seat of his coupe. Too late. The door slammed by itself, evidently thanks to a gust of wind he neither felt nor heard. He pulled the car out of park, and off the duo went. He glanced into his rearview mirror, taking in the sight of his hitchhiker.

He nearly took up the entire backseat. The duffel bag sat next to him, his muscular arms tightly holding it against his side. He was easily above six feet tall, likely even more than six and a half. He threw his arms behind his head, kicking his large feet onto Douglas' armrest. Outwardly, he seemed like just another good looking guy- one he'd likely see on his granddaughter's TikTok. But his guard remained on high alert.

"Just keep driving, brother. I'll tell ya when to turn off." His velvety voice was disarming, a carefree confidence just wafted from him alongside the strange heat which seemed to emanate from his muscular body. For about an hour, the two sat in silence as they rocketed down the highway. Each glance he shot into his mirror, Douglas would see the man smirking- his gaze never meeting the old man's. Thus, as the road veered to the left in the distance, their silence was broken. "Don't turn, just keep going straight." He carried a tone of authority in his voice, a natural command that would be highly unlikely to be ignored.

"There isn't a road straight ahead..." The hitchhiker finally stared into the mirror, his eyes locked on Douglas' reflection.

"Go straight."

As if of their own accord, the old man's hands kept steadfast on their trajectory. As the road began to curve, the Cavalier shot in the commanded direction, straight into the sands of the desert. They swerved, avoiding large rocks and towering Saguaros, before the foothills of the mountains started to come into view. Through the mirage before them, Douglas could see what looked like a campsite ahead, just beyond the thicket of green brambles. A crowd of maybe 50-70 people had gathered in the bowels of the desert. For what purpose, Douglas did not yet know. But as he slowly began his approach, the entire crowd had turned their eyes toward the car. Like the parting of the Red Sea, the crowd split in two; leaving a clear straight shot toward a makeshift platform right at the base of the mountain.

"Thank you for the lift, brother. Do me a favor, will ya? Stick around. I have a feeling you'd love what we have going on today." Again, his timbre was less of a request- and far more of a demand. The tone was never raised, nor was it ever aggressive. However, he felt as if one would be wise to heed his instructions. Douglas simply nodded, turning the car off, and opening the door.

The crowd was filled with a diverse cast of people, all of which were fit, energetic, and young. Not a single soul had seen a day over 30, no less than 21. They stared with vacant expressions in silence until the hitchhiker exited the backseat, at which point they erupted in cheers and applause. Douglas watched with confusion and shock as the young man walked toward the platform, shaking hands, playfully punching shoulders, giving out high fives like condoms at a clinic. Who the hell had he picked up? Where the hell was he? As he hopped atop the wooden structure in one single leap, easily five feet off the ground, he shucked the grey tank top and tossed it into the crowd. A young woman caught it, tenderly holding it against her chest as the onlookers admired his chiseled build. Raising his arms, the crowd went silent.

"Brothers and Sisters, today is the day! Are you ready? Are you rearing? Tell me!" The crowd erupted, Douglas stared around the transfixed athletes, feeling entirely out of place- as if he wasn't meant to be there. "For one full year, you have trusted me to build your bodies into machines: daily training, nightly runs, some of y'all are out there doing some of the hardest workouts we have to offer. Look at you now!" More cheers. "When I told you that your bodies were temples, to treat them as such, each and every one of you took my words seriously. I said that each of you had the potential to become something incredible. You said, but Cameron, I can't ever get to where you're at! But guess what? You followed the regimen, you became part of our family, you became a part of something so much bigger than you even knew. And we are here today, your induction into our movement, the final hoo-rah!" Mimicking the leader, every single one of the parroting people began to chant hoo-rah, once... twice... thrice... like a warcry on the battlefield. Douglas turned, searching through the sea of people to find an escape route. Instead, he only saw five men of the same jacked physique of the leader handing out what looked to be bottles of water. Peering closely, the unlabeled bottles carried a milky white liquid.

"What sort of Jonestown shit is this..." The bottles were disperse quickly amongst the crowd, the cheery if not dim young men had seemingly finished in minutes as the leader droned on. Douglas took the opportunity to make his way back toward the car, only for a moment of dread to wash over him. It was gone. In it's place, a line of tire tracks came to an abrupt end, no vehicle in sight. The old man felt a hand on his shoulder, turning quickly to be face to face once again with 'Cameron' himself.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me, Douglas. I'm more than happy to reimburse you, you've saved the day." Whispers again started to rise around him, incoherently babbling a language far outside of his own knowledge. "Today, my friend, your journey begins." Douglas tried to pry his eyes away from Cameron to no avail. The deep brown eyes seemed to swallow any thought, any desire, any need. Cameron's pupils started to pulse, mimicking the old man's heartbeat, growing larger and larger, until the inky blackness had swallowed his entire iris & sclera. Cameron smirked as he watched the old man's posture fall forward, his shoulders drooping and his jaw hanging loosely. "Mmmmmmm. Good, fall deep, vessel. For your assistance today, your reward is to be one with me, just as all in my inner circle have done."

The black-eyed stud gently guided Douglas away from the crowd, who were busy downing the contents of their respective bottles just as moans and groans started ringing out from the poor fools. The five members of Cameron's inner circle followed suit, their eyes flooding black and mouths curling into devilish grins. The group soon arrived in a clearing of the thicket, circling around a pile of filthy clothes strewn across the dirt. Douglas was slowly guided to them, entirely unwavering in his stonefaced obedience.

"Well, my children. You continue to serve me well. I admit, this body must be hard to say no to. He is a joy to wear." The five goons chuckled menacingly, one or two of them groping at their bulges through their running shorts. "Today, as you all did before him, Douglas aided me in my time of need. On a momentous day as this, such acts must be rewarded. Today, you welcome your new brother." With a swipe of his hand, Douglas' corporate clothing dissolved into thin air, burnt ash flying into the desert wind. He stood there in the nude, the group watching in anticipation as Cameron simply pointed down to the pile of reeking clothes, and Douglas could do nothing but obey.

One by one the articles began to tremble, before sliding across the sand toward their soon-to-be owner. Cameron snickered, snapping his finger. A sweaty jockstrap quickly flew into the air, levitating for a moment before shooting toward the old man's groin. Like a liquid hitting a solid, the grimy fabric collided with Douglas, warping and wrapping around his legs and package until it had settled into it's new home. The brothers grinned, as they watched the old man's admittedly humble bulge swell rapidly. It expanded outward, his balls dropping like ten pound weights as they grew, and his cock elongated and widened until it peeked it's head out from the bottom of the sweat stained pouch. Douglas moaned as his ass swelled thick and bulbous, the formerly wrinkled and smooth skin sprouting dark brown hairs as his bush followed suit. Cameron grinned, strutting over to cup his hand over the musky horsecock and balls that had sprang from his jock.

Another snap of his fingers, and the shorts shot upward, wrapping around Douglas' legs, quickly inflating them with thick mass. His hamstrings widened, his quads becoming hard as iron while his calves tightened. The chicken legs he used to possess now were two massive slabs of hard meat. Cameron continued to grope and massage his prey's bulge, the fabric of the jockstrap growing sticky with his pre as he moaned. The five grunts slowly lowered their own shorts and jockstraps, releasing their sweaty dicks into their waiting palms.

"You humans are so... simple." *snap* The socks slithered like snakes across the ground, surrounding Douglas' toes and sliding around his heel and fastening around his ankle. "All it takes is slipping into some attractive male, and you'll be worshipping at my feet. As will you." The old man's feet cracked and stretched wide, his soles growing soft and sweaty as the stinking running shoes melted around his gigantic feet. The rubber and fabric contorted and stretched, the funk of a thousand runs in the desert heat wafting from within their confines as they reformed into a perfect fit. The group started to stroke their cocks, small droplets of black sludge seeping from their slits. Cameron grinned, sliding his hand into Douglas' jockstrap and wrapping it around his throbbing member. "You, however, will be a prince among men."

*snap* The pot belly which had plagued Douglas for 30 some odd years slowly receded, fading into obscurity as if it had never been there to begin with. His abs tightened, his pecs became lean, his waist slimmed quickly with powerful obliques and cum gutters pointing toward his hose. Whispers started to echo in the wind as the five cultists stroked their cocks, streams of black, tar-like slime coalescing into pools at their feet.

"You will be a father of my spawn, a carrier of my seed." Cameron continued to pump the massive dick, watching with malicious glee as his arms grew sinewy and lean, his hands large and wide, his fingers long and slender. "Today, our army is founded." The possessed stud placed his hand on the balding head of the former salesman, pushing him to his knees; his mind blank as his master's shorts slid down to his thighs, releasing a grotesque sight. Whatever his host's member used to be was long gone, now corrupted with demonic seed. It stood upright, intricate black symbols wrapping around the foot long shaft all the way to his foreskin. "Receive my blessing, mortal. Be one with me." The ripe rod inched forward, dripping thick globules of the black sludge onto Douglas' thighs as it pressed against his face. His mouth opened, and it was over.

In a single thrust, the monstrous cock pushed past his lips and deep into his throat as Cameron began to face fuck the old man. The pools of black sludge from his minions writhed toward him, engulfing his legs in their glistening form before slinking toward his tight hole. Cameron threw his head back in ecstasy, howling a thunderous and unnatural roar as his underling's seed seeped into Douglas' rear. The sounds of squelching, cracking, suction rang out as the roars began to grow louder. Each slap of his face against Cameron's bush reformed his aged face. New hairs sprouted on his scalp, a thick forest of black spreading across his head. His lips plumped as they slurped on the smelly cock, his skin tanning and all wrinkles disappearing. The last vestiges of the black sludge squeezed into his hole, and with a wicked, fiendish grin the possessed stud cursed out into the open desert air:

"WE... ARE... ONE!" 'Cameron' released his gift down into his new son's throats, a torrent of black seed rushing out of his length and into Douglas' transformed body. His veins started to flush dark, until an inky blackness had sprawled across his lean, taut figure. Whatever remained of Douglas sunk into a void of darkness, only to be encompassed by the viscous corruption. 'Cameron' grinned, his will quickly overwhelming the spirit of the old man before slipping his demonic essence within it. More and more of him flooded into the body, squeezing into the soul, until it was unclear where Douglas began and 'Cameron' ended. Dismounting his new creation, he watched with glee as the convulsions died down, and it's eyes opened, revealing an endless inky black as it grinned.

"Yes, my master, this vessel shall fit our needs quite nicely." As his eyes slowly started to return to their normal hazel, the corruptive sludge within his veins reformed, pushing upward through the capillaries and into the skin, now little more than tattoos to the naked eye. 'Cameron' grinned, another human ensnared into his dark consciousness, little more than a husk to house his essence.

'Dougie' smirked as he pulled up his fetid shorts, quickly masking his cock dripping the black sludge of his master and brothers as he threw his sweaty arms around his new family, walking toward their new army.

---

"Alright, Santa Fe! Are we ready to get fit?" The crowd erupted as Cameron stood before them, his arms raised on the roof of the building, grinning over the 200 new disciples he was prepared to imbue with his gift. Those who had been with him at Socorro stood silently amongst the unsuspecting enthusiasts, ready to 'assist' their 'ascension' should the need arise. Just beside the building, his sons had gathered behind the truck in a circle, chanting words beyond our most vivid imagination as they stroked eachother's musky cocks into the large vat of water. 'Dougie', now a favorite of Cameron, devilishly grinned as he felt the first torrent of his corruption spew into the clear water, the thick black sludge slithering about before dissolving into the liquid as if it were never there. Round after round, they shot their father's seed into water, until there was more of the seed than there was of the water.

"Alright, brothers. I think that should do it." His deep, bellowing voice brought each of his brothers attention on him as they put their cocks back into their shorts. "Hah, and not a minute too soon." The crowd of feckless initiates began to line up, in desperate need of hydration, of which 'Dougie' was more than happy to provide. He hopped up onto the bed of the truck, as his brothers ladled their refreshment into individual bottles. Snatching one, 'Dougie' snickered. "Who's thirsty?"

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

James minded his own business under the sun on the private beach within the resort perimeter when a fit older daddy whistled at him. Being the flirty young stud and noticing the bling on that fit daddy's body, he grinned back at the older guy before approaching him. That turned out to be the biggest mistake that cost James his life as the older guy eyes suddenly turned pitch black and his warm smile turned into a devious grin.

Already within grasp of the older guy, James found himself trapped in his place as the older guy grabbed both of his shoulder as he grinned

"It's about time to shed this old skin and start again,"

That's when pitch black smokes emanated from his ear, nose and between the gritted teeth of that older man and started its infiltration into James. The young stud unable to scream for help as time seemingly froze during the moment and before long, the smokes entered his body through all the opened orifices, including his navel and ass crack that slightly revealed due to his skimpy swimwear.

As the final wisps of the pitch black smoke settled into James' body, the devious smile seen before in the older guy now copied to perfection by James.

The older guy seemed confused and at lost, but upon making eye-contact with James pitch black eyes, the older guys pupil dilated and he started speaking monotonously

"Ready to be in service of you, Master,"

James just grinned widely as his eyes turned back to its original hazel color. He then dismissed the old guy to return to his room and James will swing by later to pay the older daddy a visit.

The sun is blazing and James already spent quite some times on the beach anyway, so he walked into the shower area to give his new vessel a thorough inspection.

The shower session was sensual to say the least, as the smoke seduced James body and pushed it to its limit by exiting and entering his body all shower long. The real soul of James can only scream and moan everytime he managed to wrestle control of his body even if only temporarily. Eventually, as he neared orgasm, the black smoke not only entered James body, but also managed to attach and penetrate itself to James actual soul, corrupting the young stud even further as the black smokes now take on the form of James, even in astral level. That is the final push that resulted on whatever humane about James released out with the geyser of sticky white mess the dick released all over the shower stall, inviting delightful chuckles from the new and sole owner of James Dalton physique.

As he left the shower, he grabbed the clothes James brought along. He already put on James shorts as he checked his body in the mirror.

The musculature, the glistening sweat, that irresistible charming face, he's a complete manipulator ready to wreck havoc for women and men alike. But he needs to really scream his sluttiness from the get go, so he closed his eyes and focused his power a bit. As smokes coming out from his body as if he's a fire fuming out smokes, his hair color seemingly bleached on its own and not even a minute later, he's now blonde and looking straight like a lusty sex deviants

Now, he's ready to live life to the fullest, making sure to destroy all humans he decided to be deserving of his corruptive love and subsequent control over them.

[shootingstarwritings]

Body-a-Day #1: Smoke

There existed a certain forbidden ritual allowed mortals to open up a portal to Hell and use its unholy flames to burn one particular target. The flames of Hell were unique, being much harder to douse than a normal inferno. This quality assured the caster that their target would be eliminated. But opening up a portal to Hell was a price that nobody could pay the cost.

On a certain day in a certain city, a particularly bold businessman who happened to be an amateur mage had used such a ritual to set the home of a rival co-worker ablaze. While the home itself had been miraculously empty at the time, firefighters still struggled to combat the otherworldly fire. After a horrifying hour of hard work and exhaustion with little progress made, the flames almost seemed to… give up.

While some believed that a miracle had happened, it couldn’t be further from the truth. A demon, Asmodeus, had slipped through the crack between the realms and commanded the flames to surrender. He needed the firefighters to end it quickly and raise any suspicion.

With the flames finally put out, a few firefighters inspected the razed remains of the home to see what could be salvaged. One of them, a volunteer by the name of Hank Sutherland, walked just the tiniest bit away from his fellow firefighters. Asmodeus had his target, now he just needed to take him.

~o~

A cold chill ran up Hank’s spine as he looked around. It felt as though something was watching him. Nervous, he called out, “H-Hello…?” Yet his only response was a column of smoke rising from beneath the burst wreckage and forcing itself into his mouth. “MMRGH! MMM…!” Hank gasped and choked as the demon flowed inside of him, filling his lungs and effectively silencing his cries from the ears of the other firefighters.

Strength failing, Hank fell backwards as the last of Asmodeus’ smoky essence filled his body. He groaned and writhed on the ashy floor before his eyes turned the same shady of darkened gray as Asmodeus. Then, his body grew stiff and he fell unconscious.

Hank awoke to an unfamiliar white ceiling and several cables attached to him. Cleared from duty for the rest of the week to rest, Hank eventually made his way back to his apartment. As soon as front door shut, Asmodeus groaned and cracked his neck. He let out a guttural groan as he adjusted himself properly inside his new flesh—as though he was stretching out a new pair of shoes.

Hands ran up against the man chest and stomach as the new Hank moaned as he experienced the pleasures of the flesh. He walked over to the bathroom with a swagger than the real Hank never had.

“Now then,” he said to his own reflection. “Let’s find the mortal who summoned me here. I haven’t eaten a soul in what feels like centuries.” Hank bellowed in laughter as a new playground was now in his grasp.

[febuary30thday]

"Kabuamaru! You can't bite my patients!"

Yan! Possessive! Obanai x Nurse! Reader

(Reader works at the Butterfly Mansion)

Obanai is the type of yandere who will observe you from afar, he does not take action

However, in this scenario, let's say he does

He isn't as needy as Sanemi, thankfully, but he does like your attention

He is really insecure about his face, and hasn't even let you see it, but he lets you change him and take care of his wounds and stuff

He's not one for physical affection, he's more of a gift-giver and words-of-affirmation person

You can't count how many times he's given you small gifts

If Obanai is resting in the Butterfly Mansion, he'll give you Kabumaru and says something along the "So he can watch over you" when in reality it's Kabuamaru can scare off trashy patients

Kabuamaru has bitten a guy who got too comfortable with you

Obanai stands firm in his belief that his snake did the right thing

He hates females, as you know (But if you are female or identify as female you are the exception, but for now, you are gender-neutral)

He can only stand you and Shinobu taking care of him because he gets sick at anyone else

Obanai is ranked as the second hardest pillar to talk to, so whenever he's around you, not many get close

"Kabuamaru! You can't bite my patients!"

He chuckled for the rest of the day when his snake bit a 'trashy male' as he called it

You, however, did not find it funny

"Obanai, that wasn't funny, he could've gotten seriously hurt."

"I'm just protecting you, and he deserved it for committing the crime of daring to piss me off, and trying to flirt with you. That trash is lucky that's all I did."

"You are so lucky I love you."

He only hummed in response, but Kabu slid onto your shoulder, and rubbed his head against your cheek, showing its affection.

You knew what that meant

"Love you too, Oba."

[cutieeva]

Snow and Rose

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 Female reader

Warnings : Murders. Violence.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 愛 ❜

He was filthy. Made to be discard and dislike and disgust hence the reason he even did not dare utter the pure words of love to the one he grew to not dislike however it all changed when he saved a woman. An peculiar one with taste of adressing herself as a snow and him, a disfigured man—rose

It was the first night of the winter. Crimson petal of rose slowly fell atop of the untainted white snow. To be honest the blush fall on the snow looked breathtaking. So beautifully vast yet together by nature almost seem like the destiny also choose in the harshest winter will bear the most adored rose to be seen.

The first time she saw them, it was unsuited together yet now if this was her last image of the world's beauty before withering away. She is thankful enough, smiling under the cold whiteness where she lay, drenched in her blood surround her and pain numb little by little. Now that her vision fading she wish to indulged the nature of destiny more. She wish to find her own rose in the snow, a lover she meant and perhaps children too. ? How odd of her to even question of her own wish to bear children when she knows no rose is there for her.

As the roses always wirther, unsuited to the snow like she thought, no one likes snow. Even those who believed to like only do for few weeks, months not years, certainly not decades.

Snow as beautiful is cold, far cold she realize after embracing in the ground, blush of her skin drying and tears gather to flow silently.

How she wished to see the sunrise for the last time. One last time before passing to void of nothing, she knew heaven and hell were only words for fear to do good despite being surround by hell. One last tear roll down as she embrace the death when a crunch of foot earned her sight.

Eyes rolling to see the demon, the culprit of her death towering surprise to feel the drop of crimson. Not one from the rose petal rather of blood along stench of someone's death coloring the sliver sword he holds. He who is not the demon her mind knows at least, however an stranger wrapped in black cloth like the void of night and white cloth wrap around his mouth with snake rest upon his neck. His eyes, Unusual she ever seen one teal and another yellow.

His gaze bore at her, laying on the snow and blood circle around her like an painting of death with petals of rose fallen near her forehead almost seem like an crown of farewell flowers. She looks utterly and hauntingly beautiful he is afraid to say the rose suit her with the snow. Even her tears of sorrow paint her beautiful. His eyes locked on those (E/C) eyes that he forgot it's close and pale hue cover her entirity.

Like a bleak of a man his knee bend down, fingers almost curl refuse to taint the body by brushing his filthy touch yet with gentle he never grace one with did he hold her, cold sweep into his warmth and her body in his hand vulnerably he embrace her clothed part more to begin walking the path of his home where many also lives.

Pain greet her awake, her sight met with the white ceiling of a house than the void of nothing she expected. The pain in her body told her the answer of her life. She is alive and the beautiful nature of rose met snow was not her last image of mother earth's beauty nor the man she viewed.

The man in question is none where to seen when the door slide open stand a beautiful woman, smiling gently. "She must like butterfly". (Y/N) judged from the hair pin of butterfly to her dress print.

"Ara, Ara, you are awake. I see". (Y/N) bow to the woman despite the pain in her stomach yet her face remain unchanged. Stoic as before. "Do not distress yourself further. I fear your present state is one of considerable pain." The woman came closer to find indeed the blood taint the white again.

(Y/N) apologize softly.

"No apologies necessary, I assure you." Her laugh was melodies that the man almost slip her mind.

"Oh. A man, with snake around his neck ?" She continue, her eyes as if reliving the time. "Have you seen him ?" The actions of that woman's hand pause and staring at those purple eyes oddly seem empty and lost.

"I do. He is one of the demon slayers". Strange words. Demon slayers and demons. Both belonged to monstrous fairytales she never liked to read and now very real to see, one was eater almost pushed her to the edge of life and another an savior, retrieve her life yet both interwoven with one another.

"Oh. Would you be so kind as to inform me of his whereabouts, that I may pay my respects ?" The woman stare at (Y/N). No human she ever seen so indifferent to the word demon. One must bear some hatred or kindness or any emotions linked. Never indifference. Perhaps the lack is what present her so different however naïve to the laws of world.

"You may, he will be found next door, precisely where the wounded gentlemen resides." Her finger point to near the door of (Y/N)'s right and she nod.

"Thank you". She stood to the woman's surprise and walk with difficulty to the next door, sliding open to find three young lads on the bed with another beautiful woman with pink hair and that man. That man's soften gaze saw her bend her body to bow and utter the words she truly felt from the core of her heart.

"Thank you for saving me" . The tone and the face remained unchanged however those eyes he notice was pure, clearance with courage Obanai swears. Courage he won't be rewarded, not with the blood in his veins.

"It was my duty". He replied, turning away from her and she left quietly. All were too suprise to intervene the tight tension darting from the unknown to the cold demon slayer. He who thought their first words exchange to be the last.

However here she is, sitting beside Tanjiro, applying herbs like the gentle caress of a mother to his wounds he receive from Obanai during their period of training. A furrow appear in his brows, why is she here ? His eyes slide to the stomach cover by her cloth and by movements of her body she appears to be healthy.

Soon he learnt after she recovered did she request to dedicate herself to nursing she was by experience and Shindou welcomed her. What a play of destiny he thought watching intently how with unchanged poise she clean one gruesome wound than previous.

"How calm". He wonders, how can a woman be so devoid of expression ? Even Shinobu plaster a smile and here she is, and was at her last breath crafted the same expression.

"I offer my sincerest gratitude, your expertise is truly remarkable." Tanjior in his cherry voice smiled large and she returned only with a nod. He narrow his eyes, was she also poise in front of the culprit of her death ? Or did she cried, begged or perhaps— .

"The gentleman is cleared to depart." Her words directly to the older demon slayer and he nod, averting gaze with someone first because of how unashamed they were. He took him alongside and wish to never view her.

What a foolish thing to pray when she is at his each sight. One time brooming with the little girls despite them playing, laughing and joining her hands to round each other she only played along unchanged as if her soul was not present while her body was.

Another time dusting and cleaning the injury manor and he was there, yet not once she glanced or tries to word with him. Not that he desired so rather finding her like an puzzle. So locked unlike Mitsuri who is like the sun, bright and bathed in pureness and free like an open book he can read. Even that butterfly demon slayer seem easier to understand than she. A lady with unfamiliar origin, name he didn't care to learn and expression never change.

Upon another occasion, a youthful trainee, gravely injured, was brought forth, his face snarl in pain and half his form scorched by the ravages of fire yet she didn't so little flinch. She beheld the charred flesh, and with unflinching resolve, set about healing the wounds. It made him wonder again would she grasp, be horrified or pity the demon slayer if she shown her the scar in his— shaking such filthy words, he walked down that time.

"(Y/N) hurry, the Serpent Hashira and the Wind Hashira needs help !" She pause in her hurried steps. Her savior was in need and the thought to return the debt come to her mind. Her feet went to the room watching the two strongest demon slayers swallowing pain as they lay on the bed. "One of the demons poisoned them so the little wounds are deadly".

Her trembling hands took the medicines and herbs, as being advised she about to touch the Serpent Hashira, he wield his sharp sword to her chin, little inches away and his snake hiss. "Don't come near me". His words tender yet the sentences chilling sharp and she can not help ponder why.

"What ? we don't have male—".

"Let me do my own". He cut the argue he finds not needed.

"However you have no knowle—". Kanao tries to change his mind for good.

"I can!" he asserted, the crimson-tinted the binding around his mouth and voice bending into whisper with his pale skin whiter. (Y/N) is afraid the poison rushing faster.

"By all means, proceed. But heed my caution: observe my movements, then replicate, lest harm ensues. Do you understood ?" Obanai who never thought her to spoke nod and took the medicines and clothes. (Y/N) note the wounds are in his arm, thigh and shoulder thus she walk beside him to another silent room—she assume his room and sat, turning face away to hear the shuffles of clothes unraveling and she begin to show on her clothed body while he remain silent, save for the occasionally groans and strainted huffs.

"Completed". She nod and he finally turn his eyes at her back, wondering why she is unmoved.

"May I see your work, that I might judge its merit ?" She hoped to have yes however deep inside the answer was spoken in silent already.

"No". No. As she expected and nod to maneuver towards his clothed self and about to stand at her feet when Obanai narrow his eyes in displease. That expression and lack of words. Always of few words, indifference and unafraid. All of the qualities he wished he had within himself. Indifference of other's eyes, unafraid of the past and courageous.

Implused by his deranged thoughts and in daze of his wound. "Would you be scared of this ?" Uncaring he rip the binding of his mouth, the cool breeze brush against the dreadful scar that is still fresh in his memory. His eyes close like the binding was a relieve of pain however he waited. For a strangling scream, disgust grasp, pity words or anything. Save for the errie silence.

Each muscle of his body tense at the feel of an soft touch at the corner of his lips and his hand shoot up holding her wrist and eyes wide to be face at her expression. And indeed it was not in vain.

Alas, the rosy flush that painted her entire visage, and the demure shimmer in those crystalline eyes, told a tale he had not expected to behold. Even her skin blushed from his touch alone.

A hatred twist his inside as he swing her hand and yelled harsh. "Get out !" She flinch and run out. His head buried in his palm, he did not intent to yell, however what could he had done if that bewitching woman's expression did not just brew a hope in his heart. A hope no one did and he himself dare not aknowledge.

"What was that ?" Bewildered he erased her image of blush.

He must have frighten her because the few days later she was none of his sight and it was unknown how he felt so he walked to his room when the moon's shine lighten on the letter slide to the gap of the door. His finger touch the paper and read. 'To the respected Serpent Hashira. From (L/N) (Y/N).'

An name he is unfamiliar could only belonged to that woman. "(Y/N)". The name roll down his flesh, sounding hauntingly pleasant. He grip the paper hard and went inside. First he sit and grab the candle near the paper he almost wish to burn, not read any words behind the paper. Still his curiosity drive him to open and unfold the smooth lines of paper.

'You might have forgetten what had occur to the day of your injury yet I do not and thus the letter was crafted, whether view it as an unworthful letter or cowardly one, it's your choice however I won't delay your time and say the words I had not courage to utter in front of you that the scar you showed me was in my view an scar of loathe, pain and sorrow of the past because the way it's craved could not be done willingly—' Obanai turn away from the paper, unwelcomed memories slit his mind and fill his vision.

"Useless". He deemed the paper and the fire of the candle so close however something, perhaps hope convince him to read further.

"My intention was not to recall your unpleasant memories however I had to because the next words I say might desire you to kill me even hate me I fear, because your wound blossoms red like the petals of rose, breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful that I was mesmerized. I am wretched for holding dear and falling in love with the sorrow you might have, the very thing I am in love is the one you hate, so please it's not a letter of forgiveness because do not forgive me. Do not forgive me ever".

His hand fell limp as fingers still grip on the paper become tighter than ever and the candle's light illuminate his fiery blush face and the glistening rims of his eyes betrayed a depth of feeling he could hardly grasp.

"Is it not a confession ?" His other palm cover his face and brush upon the binding that for the first time did not evoke feelings of revulsion and disgust rather sentiments he had not felt for anyone, not even the love Hashira. Because the unpleasant memories dissipated the moment his scar made contact, replaced by her passion words, which floated in his vision like ethereal whispers. 

At the early rise of the sun Obanai ran to the butterfly manor to find her not Kanon who raise a eyebrow and continue her duty.

"Might I inquire as to the present location of Miss (L/N) ?" His question made her confuse before sighing.

"Good heavens! You haven't heard ? She resigned, having met my elder sister in person and left a letter for us all, though, alas, it reveals nothing of her destination." Her voice somber reflections on the departure of the benevolent lady, whom she had not had the opportunity to bid farewell, a circumstance that pained her, much like her sister.

The words save for the resigned tune out. The sounds distant and dishonest. H-how could it ? How could it be ? When she confessed her love merely yesterday ? "The letter ? May I see it ?" She hand over the paper he unfold to read and yes, it's her farewell for eternal. How cruel, she left. He almost threw the paper in fit of rage but he knew better and did not.

She is one cowardly woman he ever met.

☯

A red rose.

The first single rose appear at (Y/N)'s doorstep was few weeks later she moved from the demon slayer's corps to a small village little further from the branch and the house she stay was bearable and decent food was nearby to attend. The real reason she left was due to the passion confession her heart forced her hand to give however when she comes to realize the man she was giving and his profession was, she decide to separate herself.

Because the man would never love her back and his profession was oath to death, no sense of life was guaranteed and she swears the heartbreak of future could not stitch the patchs of broken heart.

From childhood she watched her mother obedient like a pet to her father and never replied back and his father always remained gentleman and cold. Very different than the fairytales she dislike yet reads for the sake of befriending others.

Soon growing up she realize because of the unspoken law of marriage. A wife is a doll of his husband who married for the sake of duty. They were not in love instead tied down in duty where she, the child was a bond they had to create by society's pressure and sheding her innocence to adulthood, it's her time to take the role of doll for someone else.

And at first few men did choose her, some even confess their love but after few months they left, giving the ring of their betrothed away.

"Your demeanor is as frigid as the grave. How might I be expected to harbor affection for one so seemingly devoid of vitality?"

"(Y/N), I must confess, it pains me to consider the possibility that you do not return my ardent affections. Your demeanor suggests a certain...indifference towards me."

"Miss (L/N), though I have always held your beauty in the highest esteem and affection however our spent time leads my heart yearns for a deeper connection. I confess, I covet a love that stems from genuine attachment, not mere obligation."

"If your heart truly beats for mine, then demonstrate your affection through tender compassion ! Speak words of endearment, that I might be assured of your love !"

Some were good, some were spoiled and some greedy yet what common in them was their speech of words of how cold she is and like snow she is beautifully admired—not loved. To be honest she hated all the men that left her, even if some were really good she loathe them. Why ? Because none tried to know the dept of her love for them because she did love them, each and every one of them. Yes ! not as deep as the love of Zhi Nü for Niu Lang. Still she did, what she couldn't was to express them. She simply does not know. Words were not easy to utter as she wanted and affections never surface properly.

Also their love was not worth if they left so easily leading her to become spinster and out of roof as for her family's reputation she was a staint so she left, no cries, pleads or any attachment. What prevails her is that quiet tears still roll down.

Leading her at the first night to encounter a hungry demon and that man, she for and realize after viewing his scar. He awoke a whole world inside her she was hidden from and now she can not help wonder if she had known him better could she bear courage to court him.

Red rose on top of the snow. Her sight snap to the ruby hue and turn to the vase inside the house already had seven more red rose rest. Adding this will be seven. It's strange no one comes to mind who would give her flowers like a secret admirer. Like confessing secret love to her.

With steps that softly crunched above the winter's white blanket, she approached the flower, its beauty unmarred by frost's chill grasp. Her fingers enveloped its slender stem free of thorns. The rose errierly remind her of him. His beauty of an rose and sharp gaze of thorn to protect. Perhaps thus she collect the roses.

☯

Slap !

Embracing her new role as a cleaning worker in the village proved daunting for her. As both a woman and alone seen beneath of men after all.

"Your defiance has cost us dearly. You should have layed your body at the customer's whims equals to a king's demands, were left unfulfilled. Your stubbornness has turned gold to dust. You ungrateful witch !" The pain at her cheek throb and she lowered her head, choosing silence, closing eyes to feel the next and next until the wife of the owner hold his hand.

"Oh dearie, this is a noodle shop. Not a brothel, what she had done is right because imagine rumors spreading of our humble restaurant turning into selling women. How bad is it not ?" His wife in tender voice trap him in sprouts of nonsense and he, halting and debating the words.

(Y/N) gratitude the lady in mind and caught sign of her hand twisting towards exit. "Go out". With eyes darting in secretion (Y/N) bow to her and quietly walked away from the unfair abuse and her night shift.

☯

Chirps of bird and noise of hens awake her and ignoring the ache in her cheeks she walk to the door and her eyes wide and mind in confusion.

She blink once, twice and slowly, very slowly walk on the snow to the center where a folded man's cloth is layed above blood with a rose on the side. The eighth rose. Her (E/C) eyes stare at the cloth for moments before walking to the noodle owner's house that is few walks away and not long a cry of agony rip out.

Her walk slow down and she watched the crowd form and the wife's cries in her corpse husband's body that is naked and blood sweeping from the stabs in his stomach and dried blood from the hole of his either cheeks. Pity bleed within (Y/N) for the newly widow— not the man. He deserved it and a happiness bloom thinking how length of love her secret admirer bear.

She went to her yard again and the cloth vanish and blood buried leaving the rose and a letter. "Was he here ?" A shiver ran her spine, glancing around to spot only to be failed and she read the letter.

'I am not good with words however what I am good is at welding swords and that man deserve equally as the demon heads' Demons. Holding the rose at one and letter at another, finally one man comes to her mind. The serpent demon slayer.

And she is unaware what to do and if her thought is even true.

☯

"Leave me !" (Y/N) yelled to the previous customer of the noodle shop who she was beated for and now tormenting her at night of street. "I said leave me !" She screamed attracting heads of the crowd letting the man loose his grip and her chance to escape.

Ninth rose lay beside the cloth of a man painted in blood. She walked out of her yard at the early morning and roam to find his body calmly and the crowd forming told her already. She close the gap, catching glimpse of his naked body layed to be humiliated and stabs in his stomach and holes on his palms where the man grip her by.

And as she expected when she return to her yard, the cloth was erased, blood buried and rose with letter repeating the same words.

☯

"It must be you ! You wretched woman, you got my husband killed ! After being bewitched by you, was he killed ! It must be you". The wife of the man yesterday murdered she was not even aware married came to her doorstep at midnight, screaming and throwing scornful words she does not like.

"I do not, mam". Calmly and unchanged she answered, attempt at closing the door she mistake to open and when the wife caught hint of that, (Y/N) felt a rush of coldness at her face. Numb snow cold her warm body as (Y/N) part her lips to say she was thrown more snow and more and more.

Until a wet slick sound and sudden stop of snow lead her head to turn meeting the scene of a sliver sword pierced the wife's stomach and glide back gushing blood and her body limp at once revealing Obanai, the serpent hashira standing with a blank expression and when met with (Y/N)'s, did it sparkle the beauty of emotions.

Her eyes also saw in his another hand holding the rose. Tenth rose. "At the tenth rose I decided to finally meet you". Loudly he confessed. Both to being the secret admirer and the murderer however not a hint of fear he felt not because he considerate himself powerful rather at the mercy of her love. While he thought he loved the love Hashira, (Y/N) mold the very love to him. While the love hashira was the shining sun, pure and out of his reach stem from pure respect, (Y/N) plant the seed of love from the mere words of his scar he loathe, she turn the hatred and self-disgust of the scar marred his skin into a memory of their sweet love. With the words of her and blushful image of her touched his corner lips brew him the feel of worthy to loved and love. She made him feel human.

Now at each touch of his mouth, rather than ashamed and scared did his heart skip beats at her face, at each touch of his mouth reminds him of her words. The confession of her yearning and passion he never received from one before and she graced him so deep, he could not help fall deeper, running to every village from small to huge at search of her and when found the relieve of bliss remind him once again how unable of her he has no life of his own anymore.

"Forgive me, Miss (L/N). I could not force you to my will defying yours so all I could do was remove the obstacles and wait for your return to me as I have fallen for you deeply". At each step closer to her he said each word and finishing he give her the rose, waiting to see her accepting or throwing.

Fear gripped his heart to be honest a little— no, a lot, the fear of rejection from the woman he holds dearly to his heart will crush him however he will wait, as long as needed and continue removing the filth from her life. Flith that forced his hand and deserved to be united with the demons.

Oh, how sweet. (Y/N) couldn't believe. A man who go length beyond for her and love her to the end without leaving is an heaven. Even more when it's the same man she did not even dare dream of loving her back holding rose for her and bloody sword to others.

How could she resist such love. An love scary and undeserving at other's view is her everything.

Her finger grasp the rose and lean forward to press a kiss the man above his binding who's those unusual beautiful eyes wide only to soften. Her lips parted and said. "Forgive me not I am in love with you".

"Forgiven because I am in too". He returned blooming a smile on her lips. Language of love she heard once, love that not only utter from words alone however also from actions of service for their love. Perhaps this man has that.

FIN

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 ◸◜𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 ◞◿

[bimboothefool]

"I know a lot about you...more than you think." During first date with yandere pico?

[captainmalewriter]

Hi, I was in my way from work to home on Friday on Katowice (Poland) underground bus station, when I found Yellow with Green Ring capsule on the pavement. I took it and put into my bag's pocket. I will open it in the evening, when I will have a bit of free time before my computer's monitor. What will happen?

Congratulations, you found my missing yellow with a green ring capsule! Here's what happened when you found it...

You held onto the safety rail as the underground metro barreled down the railroad. As you waited to get home, you felt around your bag where you had stored a yellow prize capsule. You had found it back at the station just sitting around on the pavement. You decided to take it for yourself. You thought about opening it right then and there, but decided to hold off until you got home and open it there. You rubbed your finger against its sleek surface, your finger gliding across like butter due to how smooth it was. 

Open…

Your ears perked up. You thought you heard a whisper but weren’t too sure.

Open the capsule…

You heard it again. It was a scratchy, low-pitched voice. Your eyes darted around the bus car, trying to find whose voice that was, but you couldn’t find anyone suspicious. On top of that, nobody else seemed to notice the strange ominous voice. It was telling you to open the capsule. It was a simple command, and for a moment, you were actually considering listening…

But then the bus conductor announced the next stop, which was also your stop. You shook off the weird feeling, slipped the capsule back into your bag, and went about your way.  You got off the bus and made your way back home. You made yourself comfortable, then sat at your computer desk with the prize capsule in hand. No matter how much you looked at it, it seemed like an ordinary capsule! Yet at the same time, something felt undeniably wrong about it. You noticed it ever since you first laid eyes on it. It was as if the capsule itself possessed some sort of malicious energy…

You found a label tag on it. Before opening it, you decided to do some internet searching first just to make sure it was safe.

Open the capsule…!

You heard the sinister voice again. It sent a shiver down your spine, but forced yourself to ignore it. 

OPEN! THE! CAPSULE! OPEN IT NOW!!

The voice got louder and louder. It was as if the voice was inside your head… It was driving you crazy! You couldn’t take it anymore! In frustration, you slammed your hands on your keyboard, grabbed the capsule, and tore it open without a second thought. You were breathing heavily as you held the now broken capsule in your hand. However, there was nothing resembling a toy or a prize in your hand. All you were holding were plastic shards.

“Man! This is bullshit!” You shouted as you threw the broken capsule across the room. You didn’t care that you’d have to clean it later; you were just so mad that the same thing that was driving you insane turned out to be nothing but a piece of cheap plastic. 

You huffed out a breath as you calmed down. Now that that mystery was over, you decided to spend the rest of the night playing video games on your PC. You took out a game controller out of your desk drawer as your favorite MMO loaded up. You then looked up and gasped loudly as you saw a horrific sight on your computer screen: the skeleton of your face. 

“What the fuck!! Who the fuck is that!?”

You screamed out in terror as you made eye contact with the face on the screen. Your reflection was nowhere to be seen on the computer monitor. Instead, it was the reflection of some random stranger with an exposed, skeletal face. You felt unnerved as you looked at him… Every movement you made, the man copied you, acting as if he was your reflection.

“Wh-what’s going on…” you shuddered. “That’s not my face, who are you!!”

You shouted at the skeleton man. He only grinned in response, and when he did, the same cocky grin began to form on your face. You tried to stop it but it was no use, you were forced to smirk against your will.

“Heh, I’m the soul you just freed from that tiny prison,” the man said. Hearing his voice, it hit you that he was the one you were hearing earlier! But even more unsettling, your mouth began moving to match whatever he was saying. Now you were his reflection.

He noticed the uneasiness in your eyes and chuckled. He was clearly enjoying how much power he had over your body despite being just a face on a computer screen.

“You asked me who I am,” he started. “Well, to be honest, it doesn’t matter who I am. I’m about to be you.”

The man leaned in closer to the screen. When he made contact against the edge, he began to bleed out of your computer monitor as he physically manifested right in front of you. You opened your mouth to scream, not knowing how big of a mistake that was. 

As your mouth hung open, the soul made a beeline straight for your mouth. You gasped as you felt your entire body getting filled with a ghostly presence. The soul didn’t hold back in taking your body over as its new vessel. It entered you through the mouth and nose, causing you to float up slightly as you got possessed. With one final gulp, you swallowed the last few ounces of his soul into your body. Warm sensations flooded your senses as you felt your consciousness fade away into the background of your mind, leaving the driver’s seat open for the soul to take over. You knew you were finished when you felt an unwanted smile creep up on your face again; the same arrogant grin you saw on the computer screen a few minutes ago. With the possession complete, he was in total control and you were nothing more than a passenger inside your own body. 

You watched from the crevices of your mind as your body began to move around on its own. Despite having no control anymore, you could still feel as the soul possessing you touched and rubbed your now shared body. The hair on your arms felt familiar yet foreign due to the ghostly presence controlling you. 

Fuck yeah! It feels so good to have flesh again!

You could hear the soul’s inner thoughts as he flexed your arms. You then noticed a feeling of disappointment growing. 

Not good enough. If this is going to be my new body, then it’s gotta be just right! Don’t you agree bro!?

Under the soul’s command, you began flexing your entire body as hard as you possibly could. As you did so, your muscles began exploding with newfound strength and power. Your body was quickly becoming stronger! Your body didn’t take on any extra muscle mass, but the mass you already had rapidly became toned and well-defined. The hair on your head grew out until you had a flowing mane and stubble a man could wear with pride. Even your cock grew until you had an obscene bulge in your pants, a testament of the heavy hitter your body now possessed between your legs. The soul that had possessed you had completely remade you in its image! 

And although you were powerless to do anything, you soon learned to love the new arrangement you found yourself in. Everything the soul did in your body was way more fun than if you did it by yourself, including and especially sex. You were having the time of your life being nothing more than a vessel for a soul to have fun with. Soon enough, you were sporting the same arrogance the soul had. Perhaps the soul had even managed to transform your soul during the possession? Who’s to say! But who cares, all that matters now is whatever adventure the soul possessing you was about to embark on next.

Hope you enjoy the new body prize you won from finding my lost capsule!

[tawneybel]

Note: “The smiling entity from the new smile movie.” In Joel’s form. Decided to make it a would involve because I haven’t done one of those in ages. Last one was for Ghostbusters 2016, also with male possession.

The smiling entity possessing Joel in order to seduce you would involve…

Not feeling very creative. At least not sexually. A major reason it wants to fuck you is convenience.

Getting the idea how to do so from Laura Weaver, actually, shortly before her death.

(“It’s like it wears people’s faces like masks.”) 

Well, her and Rose Cotter. You just missed Laura’s last seconds on earth. Rose might not’ve been its next victim. The demon would’ve much preferred to latch onto you. 

Too bad the nature of its curse wasn’t sexual, unlike the curse of one of its compatriots’.

(Wouldn’t Rose just be so messed up over her grotesque curse having its way with her prettier [in its humble opinion] coworker?)

Doesn’t mean the entity couldn’t slip into Joel’s fecund body. Squeezing its elongated, skinless form into the good cop. With his handsome face and trustworthy eyes. The perfect vessel for luring you into the monster’s embrace. 

“Vessel,” not “soon-to-be husk,” because it wanted to stick around you for a while. 

Terrorizing the last witness to death first. And it was going to savor Rose’s trauma. Make her relive the worst moments of her life. Burn away all her relationships. Scar some others in the process. Isolate her. Until her absolute breaking point. 

And terrorizing you a little, too. Before the monster would properly introduce itself. Get to know you a bit. 

Tricking you into letting it have its way with you, under the guise of Rose’s ex, was irresistible. Invisible to all, the entity’s multi-mouth drooled at the thought. 

You writhing under its host. Completely unaware a flayed abomination was pumping load after load of infernal cum…

Having a short refractory period. You would only feel Joel’s climax. Not his controller’s. Not consciously. Not feel the entity pounding into your tightness and shuddering as it came again and again and again. Perhaps you’d feel his and its combined fluids run down your thighs.  

The smile entity was 80% certain you lacked second sight. But what fun if you caught glimpses of its true visage! You, orgasming on Joel’s cock, your eyes widening at the lipless maws and lidless gaze taking in your mounting horror. 

Finally forcing you to orgasm, while your mouth warped into a confused grimace.      

[fearyandear]

Taking Over (Pet! Gyutaro x Reader)

(Continuing @phantasmiafxndom 's Pet Au with Gyutaro)

OK so, Gyutaro lovers, please read the fic I am linking in case you haven't yet, because what I'm writing is just an add-on to it.

And then if you want you can also read this NSFW one as well 👉 👈

Now for my version of building off of that:

You picked him up from the streets after life made it clear how unwanted he is. Of course he thinks hes disgusting and not worth your kindness let alone even your fucking gaze. His anxiety flares up so badly around you that he hurts himself and scratches at his skin so hard it makes you squirm. When you touch him to get him to stop and when you tell him you hate seeing him bleed, he cries. He can't believe it and goes to hide in a corner and sulk.

Yet with time, patience and more and more coddling- (oh god you're ACTUALLY SPOILING him so much???) he slowly learns to let go of the habit. He is so guilty. He knows- he knows he knows he knows hes a shitty person for allowing you, for taking everything you're giving, for not leaving even though you gave him permission to whenever he felt like it.

You shouldn't be stuck with him, no one deserves to be stuck with him, but he cant help it, he really really can't, when it's YOUR fault that he's growing greedy. That he's becoming more dependent on you. YOUR FAULT.

At least, hat's what he keeps telling himself as he lets his guard down. When he hugs you after waiting for you by the door all day, when he buries his face in your chest and sighs, staying like that as you work, when you go to bed and he lays beside you, unable to sleep until you do because he's so mesmerized.

He loves you he loves you he loves you so much. He can't get enough of the feeling; it's a strong and dangerous addiction now that makes it HURT so much WORSE when after all that growth and bliss, letting himself get comfortable, you come back one day, smelling strongly like another demon.

His deep-rooted paranoia over being let go, over you realizing one day how terrible he really is, getting sick of him and dumping him back out resurfaces in the blink of an eye. He's back to crying and fretting and tearing his skin, grabbing your arms, asking you what happened and why, ready to beg you not to let him go, that he'll do ANYTHING. And even if you reassure him now, and later, and forever, he can't let your words actually get through anymore. It's not enough. It stays with him for the rest of the month.

He's extra clingy. Pushing the boundaries on what he can and can't do. Whining when you raise your voice or try to tell him he can't do something. Guilt tripping you. He doesn't care that he's risking his stay at your house by being this forceful. You promised to be HIS owner. His. HishishisHIS- and that means having to deal with some of these 'annoyances.'

Like every morning now, he won't let you go to work until rubs his scent all over you, repeating the process when you come back home. He will start a 'game' where he will hide your things and not give them back until he's had enough fun with you pleading him. But, worst of all, if you try to sit or lay and relax anywhere, like the couch, floor or bed, he will hold you hostage by keeping you pinned under him demanding that you tell him that he's yours. Telling you that no other demon will be abke to take you away. Thinking of these as (subtle threats) reminders for you not to go looking for one to. After the third time this happens, you get annoyed that he distrusts you this much.

"Yeah, you're mine. And I'm yours. Of course, I'm not getting any other demon. You're my only precious pet and I'm your one and only owner."

You said it. You're HIS.

Just like he always hoped you would. You confirmed it, you confirmed it so you're confirming all his other delusions too.

That you love each other and that means he can push you as much as he wants, right? Because you said so- because you don't mind, because you haven't gotten mad at him! You're so nice, you won't mind hin showing you the depths of his depraved fantasies, right? That he wants more than what you're offering... You won't run away, no, you've been so GOOD to him. You can stand his selfishness.... fuck.

He's planning on it.

Lord fucking help you when his heat kicks back in after that. No more of the mewling demon that was ashamed of it, you wake up to him already on top of you, rutting against you and kissing your neck, telling you he's sorry but- 'It's so painful... he couldn't wait... please, before you go to work?' But one handjob isn't enough anymore, uugh he came too fast- and he's still SO HARD. Come oon~ he wants you again, please please, before you go- let him.... just... touch you in return? Again and again, you have tondrag yourself to the door, struggling to finally get out because he's behind you, whining and thrusting behind you, against your thighs, groaning in your ear and groping at you. You're going to be late, you know you are but you're completely glued to where you are and the worst of it is how he cums on your leg and has the nerve to slump on your back and whine and tell you how much he loves you and how much hes going to miss you while youre gone. His hands start moving more down, to a part of you that hadn't received attention yet and you finally unfreeze and open the door to get out in a rush.

You finally get on your car, horny, with splotches on your work clothes now and the lingering feeling of his hands on you. You're stuck thinking about what he's probably doing while you're at your work, burning as you realize the mess that you'll deal with when you get back home. This heat is going to be tougher. Just how far are you willing to put out this time? Will it even matter?

He's always going to want more.

[starboycosmic]

D e s c e n d 🔥😈

Happy Friday the 13th 🖤

[zestezele]

The Boy and The Demon (1/5)

I will have a lot of work aside of drawing TFTuesdays, so I'll make this one over span over five (five...) more weeks! First colored version of the previous sketch. The transformation hasn't begun but it will soon, eh he!

[variousqueerthings]

and tonight for the first time! we watch the original exorcist!

[cutieeva]

Love Languages

"In name of love, all sins forgiven".

Love has always been sweet and will be sweeter when times goes. However what if that sweetness become so addictive that one can not help yet chase after it, going any length to capture, keep and bear it ? It's becomes an obsession. However in this realm, men often invoke the age-old adage: 'All is fair in love and war.' A justification for the unbridled pursuit of desire, where moral boundaries are eclipsed by the fervor of the heart.

Shall we welcome ? The once sweet endearment of love language turn into twisted offers of affections.

Snow and Rose

Warnings : Murders. Violence.

He was filthy. Made to be discard and dislike and disgust hence the reason he even did not dare utter the pure words of love to the one he grew to not dislike however it all changed when he saved a woman. An peculiar one with taste of adressing herself as a snow and him, a disfigured man—rose.

Sweet peach

Warnings : Infidelity. Sexual assault. Dubious consent.

He was utterly unaware the moment she step inside his mansion, all heavenly and beautiful like ripe fruit to taste and how can he, as a man leave such a fragile beauty alone despite the ring on his finger and children for who she was even asked to come.

Forget-me-not

Warnings : Murders. Mention of rape. Violence.

His mind does not recalls well, or should he say not at all hence he is bearing hard time figuring who this woman is, poking and prodding, leaving subtle impressions on his daily routine, altered his dishes only to gain his attention however never did he thought the answer lay hidden in the very faculty that failed him— his memory.

Smile

Warnings : Murders. Violence. Kidnapping. Confinement. Dubious consent. Sexual assault.

It was not (Y/N)'s intention to ensnare the gaze of a demon when she ventured into the hallowed temple however the only person she can blame is herself along her salvation.

Coming soon.....

Deities and motals are not fit to be together let alone meant to be. However love conquers all. Or does it ?

[angryandereleon]

The Madness of Duke Lovecraft

Based off this: Madness of Duke Venomania