#primal demons

[sxfiamd]

A while ago, people were debating on reddit about each of the primordial demons and if they exhibit traits that can be classified under each of the 7 deadly sins. Figured that since there's 7 demons and they're like the top-notch demons, it makes sense, so here's my take（´ 3｀). Considering I don't have reddit, I figured I should put it here!

> This has no relation to the sin skill series (except Guy)

GUY - Pride, TESTAROSSA - Gluttony, DIABLO - Lust, CARRERA - Wrath, MIZERI - Envy, ULTIMA - Greed, RAINE - Sloth

The most obvious to me were Guy, Testa, and Raine.

Guy has the ultimate skill 'Lord of Pride', and although Testa was stated to be the most prideful of the demons, she shows more traits of other sins compared to Guy. Guy's pride is so powerful that it literally manifests into power. Do I need to elaborate?

For Testa, I had actually debated with Wrath before going with the more accepted option; gluttony. She speaks about the taste of souls and spends the most time "preparing" her meals compared to every other primordial shown. This is especially shown in Volume 13.5.

Diablo, although he does not show sexual desire, I believe is best suited for lust. His unique skill, 'Tempation', which is all about desire, definitely made this easier.

Carrera's short temper is a key figure of her personality, her explosive magic making this much clearer. I feel that wrath would be the most applicable to her.

I gave envy to Mizeri through the process of elimination. I dont know enough about her character to really assign her to sin, so I believe this was the best choice. I'm a Mizeri fan, so I'm really hoping to do a character dump of her soon!

Ultima was a lot harder to assign than what I was expecting! I eventually went with greed for her. Ult really wanted that physical body.

Raine is stated to be a lazy subordinate. She often attempts to avoid work, and this has led her to trouble on numerous occasions. Although only showed once, she has been told off by Guy for this behaviour. Honestly, she is the only primordial I could associate with sloth, and as such, I believe she is most suited.

I love the primordial demons so much we need for interactions with them. It's not a want it's a NEED!!

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[the-black-manor]

Within Temptation

Author: The-Black-Manor

Demon x Trans Male Priest (Pre-transition)

Warnings: Rape, unprotected sex, stolen virginity

Kinks: Demon, priest, corruption, blasphemy, oral, excessive cum, oversized cock, monster cock, bondage, belly bulge, rough sex, age difference, size difference

Terms used: Cunt, cock, balls, cervix, chest, nipples, binder, cockhead, crotch, walls, entrance

Words: 4,002

Note: If you find any mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO USE MY WRITING FOR ANYTHING OTHER THAN READING. DO NOT PRINT AND BIND MY WORKS, DO NOT REPOST THEM, DO NOT COPY THEM, DO NOT FEED THEM INTO AI, DO NOT SELL THEM, DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

The young priest didn’t arrive at the old stone church until well after dark. He was exhausted from his long journey, but there was nowhere nearby to rest, and he certainly wasn’t going to rest in the church until he was certain there were no malevolent entities present. He stepped out of the cab and stretched before grabbing his luggage and kit and making his way through the crumbling, overgrown courtyard. The front door was unlocked, and he was silently grateful to the family that lived here that they’d remembered to keep it open for him before they fled.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The foyer was dark and foreboding. Previous owners had begun renovating the church into a home years ago, but progress had been halted when strange activity began after unsealing a walled-off room in the cellar. Scaffolding, canvas, tarp, rope, and all sorts of construction equipment had been left behind when the family and crew abandoned the location. There was a large industrial light nearby, and the priest switched it on. The room was no less unsettling bathed in white light. 

As he moved through the home in search of the dining room, dust that had since settled was kicked up once more and made the air hazy. The dining room would work well enough as a sort of “home base” while he investigated the claims of demonic activity. He was no exorcist, just a young priest sent to validate the claims. If he found evidence of activity, he would send for an exorcist. For now, though, all he had was himself, his bible, his crucifix, and his faith.

After he got himself settled, he descended to the cellar, to the newly-excavated room the family claims is a “door to hell”. He scoffed and shook his head. Not likely. A gas leak, perhaps, which is why he had a mask and detector with him. But the detector stayed silent, and when he felt comfortable enough to take his mask off, the air was clean, if a bit stale. He worked his way through the house slowly, paying great attention to each room, making mental notes if anything seemed “off”. 

The only thing he found unusual was that nothing seemed unusual. He shook his head. This was a waste of time. Still, he had a job to do, and he was going to see it through to the end. He kept going. The church was huge, more a castle than anything, and he eventually found his way upstairs to the bedrooms. The doors were all closed, except for one at the very end of the hall.

If there was ever a place to start up here, he supposed that was it. The dusty old runner beneath his feet muffled his footsteps, and he peered into the room as he approached. It was dark inside, but he could make out the silhouette of a bed with a canopy. He hesitated for only the briefest moment before stepping over the threshold and into the master bedroom. The windows either side of the bed were open just a crack, letting in a crisp, fresh night breeze that sent the linen curtains fluttering and rays of silver moonlight that provided just enough light to see by.

This room was different from the rest. There was no dust on the plush red duvet, no cracks in the stone walls or gunk on the windows. No tattered rugs or moth-eaten curtains. Whereas the rest of the church was obviously abandoned, this room looked well cared for. Lived in.

The door closed behind him and the lock fastened with a “click”. He whirled around, and his blood ran cold as his tired gaze met the glowing purple eyes of an undulating shadow. He took a step back. At points, the figure looked almost human, and then its silhouette dissolved and melded with the shadows around it, moving like ink in water.  It was both tangible and intangible, solid and smoke, man and monster.

Its eyes flickered like flame, and it glared at him, and then he thought he saw, for only the briefest moment, the hint of a sharp-toothed smile. 

“Hello, priest,” the entity greeted him. 

Its voice was deep and seemed to burrow into his chest and reverberate around in his rib cage. The priest gripped the crucifix around his neck and lifted it, wielding it like a shield against the darkness. The entity laughed, low and menacing. And then it was gone. Or so the priest thought. He gasped and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt arms snake around him from behind. The demon pulled him close, pressing its chest against his back, and ran its shadowy clawed hands all over the priest’s chest and stomach. 

“Release me!” the priest insisted, writhing in its vice-like grip. 

“Cute,” it cooed, its breath hot on the shell of his ear. “You think you have authority here…”

“In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to- mmph!”

The demon forced two thick fingers into his mouth, silencing him.

“Hush now,” it breathed as its free hand slid down his stomach to his crotch. 

It grabbed him hard and pulled him back into its bulge. He could feel it hardening against his ass. 

It let out a sound then that was somewhere between a purr and a growl. “What’s this?” it asked as it felt between his legs. “No cock? Does the church know about this?” it chuckled. “No, I think not. They wouldn’t let you be a priest if they did.” 

He held his crucifix so tight that the edges of the cross dug into the soft flesh of his palm. He repeated all the prayers he knew in his head, over and over. He wasn’t afraid, but he couldn’t speak with the fiend’s fingers pressing down on his tongue, so he couldn’t fend it off. All he could do was pray. Its claws dug into the flesh of his inner thigh, and then he was in the air. He landed hard on the bed, and the breath was knocked from his lungs. He propped himself up on his elbows, ready to run, and saw the demon approaching slowly, a predator stalking its prey. This was the most tangible it had been. It looked like a man, around six feet tall, with a slim body and long hair that flowed like smoke. He could make out no facial features except for those gleaming eyes, eyes that burned into his very soul and held him in place, like a deer in the headlights. 

The demon leaned forward to match his level, its face only millimeters from his. It breathed in deep, taking in his scent, and then a long, pointed tongue snaked out from behind sharp, wet teeth to lick a line up his cheek.

“Delicious,” it purred. 

It rested its hand on his chest, over his racing heart, and shoved him onto his back. Claws dug into his flesh as it tore at his vestments and binder and peeled them away. He snapped out of his fear-frozen state, and brought a leg up to try and kick the monster away. Something wrapped around his ankle, then his thigh, then his other leg, his wrists, his biceps. Inky tentacles held him down and spread him open, leaving him bare before the evil he faced. 

“What do you want with me?” he growled, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

“I want your body,” it responded simply, then ran its tongue over its lips. “And it is a beautiful body… Seems a shame to have such stunning assets and not put them to any use.”

He had to get out of here.. He sneered at the demon and began a prayer, voice rising in an attempt to drown out its booming laugh. It didn’t care for his prayers, his faith, his god. It crawled on top of him, and he expected its body to be as hot as the fiery pits that spat it out, but it was icy cold and sent a chill down his spine. His prayer was cut short as the creature forced that long tongue into his mouth and entangled it with his own. He writhed beneath it, trying to free himself from the tentacles’ grasp and the slimy intrusion. One of its teeth nicked his lip, and he tasted blood. The demon must have tasted it too, because another purr-growl rumbled through its chest.

It pulled its tongue from his mouth and licked up the side of his neck while the priest spat, trying to rid himself of its taste. And then its lips replaced its tongue, peppering kisses along his jaw, down his neck, across his collarbone. Its hands touched and grabbed and massaged every inch of him that it could reach, paying special attention to his chest, where it groped the soft mounds and pinched his nipples, rolling them between clawed fingers. Despite his best efforts, the demon’s ministrations were affecting him, and he keened, back arching, when the demon replaced its fingers with soft lips and sucked a sensitive bud into its mouth.

He choked back a moan as fire ignited in his belly. He could feel some sort of wetness leaking from his cunt and pooling on the bed beneath him, but he couldn’t close his legs or reach down to feel. Just then, he felt something hard knock against his cock, and he cried out as electricity shot up his spine. He thought it must have been the demon’s knee, but when he managed to lift his head to look down, the demon was straddling him, its knees on either side of his hips.

“No…” he whimpered, and his head fell back against the mattress. 

When it said it wanted his body, he assumed it meant possession, not…

“Get off of me!” he shouted, struggling with renewed vigor.

The demon didn’t reply, but it released his nipple with a “pop”, and traveled down his belly, kissing and licking every inch of the soft flesh there and on his hips as he made his way lower. The priest squirmed, trying to kick away the tentacles so that he could close his legs, but they only pulled them wider apart. Finally, the demon buried its face in his cunt and inhaled deeply. It flicked his cock with its wicked tongue, and then pressed the strong muscle flat against it. It massaged him expertly, and as his back arched and his hips bucked involuntarily, another tentacle wrapped itself around his midsection to hold him down.

“S-stop…” he panted. 

“Keep praying to your absent father,” the demon mocked. “I’m sure he’ll come to your rescue.”

His cock throbbed, his cunt clenched, his body ached for more.

“Don’t… ahh-”

The tip of its tongue prodded at his entrance, gauging resistance.

“A virgin?” it purred. “I couldn’t have asked for the church to send me a better gift.”

Fighting back was useless, so the priest closed his eyes tight and started up another prayer.

“That’s it,” the demon cooed. “What a good boy. So obedient.”

He cursed the creature silently and continued his prayer while it pushed the tip of its tongue just past his entrance. He groaned and balled his hands into fists. Its tongue was far bigger than a human’s, and he’d never had anything inside of him before. The stretch burned, but there was pleasure there as well, and he hated his body for reacting the way it was. 

It thrust its tongue in and out, in and out, and then buried it deeper. He cried out at the sharp pain, and then stumbled over his prayer as it hit something inside of him - a sensitive spot that sent pleasure shooting up his spine. Its tongue delved deeper, opening his cunt, curling and uncurling, thrusting, massaging, and pressing again and again and again against that spot. 

“Sto-op…” he tried to beg, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. 

Its tongue suddenly retreated until only the tip was inside, and it used the meatiest part to press hard against his cock. 

“Ah!” he cried out in surprise as another shock of pleasure flooded his senses. 

The demon chuckled low, pleased with the reactions it was pulling out of this man of god. Its hands traveled up his sides and it took a breast in each one, kneading them in its large palms and rolling his nipples between its fingers. 

“Fuck-” he swore.

Its tongue plunged deep inside of him once more, all the way, until he could feel its lips and nose against his crotch. 

“Such a dirty mouth for someone so pure,” it mocked. “And you pray to your god with that tongue?”

“Shut up,” he tried to command, but it only laughed again.

“Have you given up on your prayers, little priest? I quite liked hearing them.”

Mocking. Always mocking. It should hate his prayers, not like them. It was only driving home the fact that the priest had no power over it, no weapon against it.

“Sing for me, priest.”

He clenched his jaw.

“I said, sing.”

It dug its claws into the sensitive flesh of his breasts, and he hissed in pain. He could feel warm blood pooling beneath its talons and running in rivulets down his sides.

“Our f-father, who… who art i-in…”

“Good boy,” it praised him, purring happily.

It ran its cold hands up and down his sides, and then traced soft spirals into his hips before it removed its tongue entirely. The priest was given only a moment to breathe before it was climbing over him once more. It pressed its lips to his neck, peppering him in soft kisses while one of its hands gave his cock the same treatment it had given his nipples. His body jerked, and a moan escaped his lips. The demon nipped at his collarbone, then soothed the bite with licks. It dipped a finger inside of his cunt just as it latched onto his neck, sucking a deep bruise into his pale flesh. A second finger joined the first, and then a third, stretching him wider than its tongue had. 

It’s preparing me, he thought. It’s stretching me open so it can fuck me.

And so it was. It added a final finger, opening and closing them with a scissor-like motion inside of him. And then it curled them harshly upward, pressing hard against that sensitive spot. He felt a spurt of something wet gush from his cunt around the demon’s fingers, earning a pleased rumble from its chest. It curled them again, and again, faster, harder, and the priest’s eyes rolled back in his head as he was overcome with pleasure. 

There was a tightening in his lower belly, and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking, his walls from clenching, his back from arching. The coil tightened quickly, and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of these sensations, to no avail.

“No, please… Don’t!” he begged. “I can’t!” 

He was right on the very edge. One more second, and he’d-

The demon stopped all at once, removing its fingers and its lips, and pushed away from him to stand at the foot of the bed. The priest lay there, quivering and clenching around nothing, his cunt leaking and his chest heaving. 

“Silly boy,” the demon chuckled. “You think I’ll let you cum around anything other than my cock?”

It slapped his cunt hard, and the priest cried out in pain. It grabbed his hips and pulled them off the edge of the bed, then settled itself between his legs. He finally got a good look at what he was dealing with. Its cock was as black as the shadows that made up its body, massive - at least the size of his forearm, with a tapered, pointed head and thick, ridged shaft, pronounced veins, and precum leaking from the tip like a faucet. Below them swung enormous balls, bigger than any he’d seen even on the horses in the stable or the bulls in the pasture.

“Please…” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Please?” the demon asked. “Please what?”

It lined up and began to prod at his entrance. 

“Please don’t do this…”

It smiled that sharp-toothed smile.

“Ah, and here I thought you were begging me to fuck you.”

He forced the head in all at once, and the priest cried out in pain.

“It won’t fit!” he screamed, but the demon only laughed wickedly.

“I’ll make it fit,” it promised, and forced another inch inside.

The pain was blinding, and he fisted handfuls of the bedding either side of him to ground himself against it. 

“You’re so wet, I can slide right inside,” it teased. 

Another inch, a wider stretch. The priest saw stars every time he opened his eyes.

“Your body wants me,” it told him. “Otherwise your pelvis wouldn’t be opening so readily my cock.”

He shook his head feverishly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Yes,” it chuckled. “Your pelvis is opening up to allow me easier access, and your wet cunt slicked itself up to make pushing in easier. You want this. You want me.”

It snapped its hips forward, burying itself to the hilt in one swift motion. The priest screamed as it slammed against his cervix, but his voice seemed so far away, muffled by the ringing in his ears. It rutted into him, making itself comfortable inside of his body, the pointed tip of its cockhead nestling itself in the little dimple at the opening of his cervix. The tendril around one of his wrist loosened, and then slipped away, but before he could even think to try and throw a punch, the demon had his wrist in its hand. He was silently grateful for the relief on his shoulder as it guided his hand down, where it pressed his palm against his lower abdomen. There was a bulge there, and it moved beneath his hand as the demon rut into him. 

His cock… it’s so big it’s making my stomach bulge…

He clenched involuntarily at the thought. 

“You like that?” it purred. “I thought you might.”

It rested its hand over his, preventing him from pulling away.

“Why are you doing this?” the priest asked quietly.

“Why does anyone do anything?” the demon asked in reply. “Because I want to. Hush now,” it growled. “Enjoy it.”

But how could he enjoy anything when he was being violated so thoroughly? His body would never be the same after this. He would never be the same.

It gripped his hips tightly, but the priest didn’t move his hand from the bulge. Instead, he pressed down on it, though he wasn’t sure why. The demon hissed and its hips bucked forward harshly, pushing the priest upward on the bed. It pulled him back down and dug its claws into his thighs.

“If you make yourself tighter, you’re only going to make me want to fuck you harder. Unless that’s what you want?” it smirked.

“No!”

He didn’t know why he pressed down. He didn’t mean to, his hand did it on its own… The demon slid almost all the way out of him, and then pushed back in smoothly. The priest let out a long, low moan. The burning stretch had since given way to a pleasant feeling of fullness, and feeling that bulge in his stomach each time the creature bottomed out was doing something to him, making him feel things he wished he wasn’t feeling. 

It pulled out again, then slid in, then out, then in, setting a slow, steady pace, fucking him with its entire length.

“Sto-o-op,” he moaned, the word broken each time its cockhead hit his cervix.

“I don’t think you really want me to,” it chuckled. “I think you want me to make you cum.”

“No…” he whined, even as embers ignited in his belly. “Please, don’t…”

It laughed, low and menacing as it picked up the pace, fucking him harder, faster. It pulled him back against it with each thrust, burying itself as deep as possible, bruising his virgin cervix. Wet squelching and skin slapping against skin filled the air like a song, and the priest’s little whines and moans harmonized beautifully. The embers quickly ignited into a blaze, and the spring began to tighten once more. The demon’s hands slid from his hips. One slipped between his legs to pinch and massage his hot, hard cock, while the other rested once more over the priest’s own.

He didn’t see the demon’s wicked smile, so tightly his eyes were closed, but he felt its thrusts become harsher, faster, until it was fucking him like an animal, growling and panting, warm drool dripping off of its lolling tongue and onto his belly. It pressed down hard on the bulge. The priest released a high-pitched whine at the added pressure, and the demon growled low. 

“So fucking tight…” it breathed. “There’s nothing better than an innocent little virgin stretched around my fat cock.”

“Huh- uh….”

He couldn’t seem to form words anymore. His senses had narrowed until all his world consisted of was the monster violating his body and the pleasure radiating from his core.

“S..st-o-o-”

“Hmm? What’s that?” the demon purred. “Use your words.”

“Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.” His voice broke with each thrust.

“No, I didn’t think so,” it grinned and slammed into him like a jackhammer.

The priest tried to arch his back, but the demon’s hand held him down, and that somehow only made the pleasure more intense. 

“No… no, no, no,” he cried with each thrust as he rocketed toward the edge. “No, please!”

He came hard. His entire body tensed and curled in on itself, his cunt clenched and unclenched around the demon’s member, and he threw his head back and cried out. His eyes rolled back, his tongue lolled out, and his breath caught in his chest. The demon plowed deep, pushed itself in as far as possible, and then stilled as a feral growl rumbled in its throat. He could feel its cock throbbing, feel its heavy balls clenching against his ass as it released inside of him. Its seed was hot, and it flooded his cunt like a waterfall. It painted his walls white and leaked out past the demon’s ridged length to run in rivulets down his ass and pool beneath him, mixing with the slick that had gushed out of him earlier.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, a mixture of pain, pleasure, and grief, and it was all he could do to choke back his sobs in between gasping for air. He came down from his high much sooner than the demon did. It seemed like an eternity before the flood of cum finally stopped. It rubbed his belly softly over his uterus, thrust gently another couple of times, and then was gone.

The tendrils unwound themselves from around his body, the shadows retreated back into the far corners of the room, and the priest was left alone, a trembling, cum-soaked mess. His joints were sore from the unpleasant position he’d been trapped in for… how long had it been? He pushed himself off of the bed and unsteadily to his feet. It was only as a sliver of sunlight through the curtains lit upon his pale face that he realized it was dawn. 

Hours. That creature had violated him for hours. He wiped his tears and used the tattered remains of his vestments to clean himself up before descending the stairs back to the dining room. He got dressed and threw his things together as quickly as he could, then all but sprinted for the door. It slammed behind him of its own accord, but he didn’t look back. He couldn’t. 

All he could do was run and hope that whatever dark entity lived within that old stone church decided not to follow him home.

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[mrmeepsmadmind]

his horns (finials) (idk)(ears)(whatever) shaking... the jumping ??? the struggling 😭 the off center twitching ..he is PISSED. AWF !!!!!!

[itsabouttimex2]

I was re-reading some of the Primal Moon stuff and I just kept thinking... If this is how badly everyone else gets affected, imagine how Chang'e gets during the Primal Moon!!!

Poor girl is probably losing her marbles up there, all by herself!!

Primal Moon Tier List

Actually… Chang’e is doing just about the same as canon! She’s a little lonely to be on her own, and a little worried for the world down below… but she’s managing!

For reference, here’s what I’ve workshopped for Primal Moon so far!

Humans and Celestials, if they have no animalistic features or demonic heritage, are unaffected by the creeping Viridescence, and are therefore free of any harmful effects of the lunar cycle. Which gives us a total of eleven characters (temporarily twelve with Seasons 1-3 MK) who are left the same in Primal Moon.

As for the others, with potential targets outside of Y/N listed in parentheses…

Sun Wukong is a monkey, c’mon. He; by the very nature of his species, needs company and affection. So what if he snatches up a darling cub (or two) from the streets and bundles them home as they kick and scream for help anticipate a week long stay with the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He’ll dote and smother until you’re all worn out from begging for your freedom receiving his affection to tuck the both of you into bed, ready to spend a quarter of the month in a frenzy of familial love. (MK, Macaque, Ne Zha, Tang Sanzang, Ao Lie, Zhu Baije, Sha Wujing)

The Azure Lion has been burdened by primal want for family since his earliest days in the Celestial Realm, quite often being “given” a still-young Ne Zha to coddle, sitting for hours with the little deity in his lap, grooming his hair to perfection with a massive tongue. But that was centuries ago, and now he needs someone new to “parent”… most likely being Y/N. (Sun Wukong, Macaque, Peng, Yellowtusk, DBK, young Ne Zha, MK, Mei, Red Son)

Bereft of his lover, Kui Mulang devolves into a more merciful and someone brooding individual, sometimes refusing to devour souls even when the ones presented to him are choice selections. He mostly manages to compose himself, however- until a pup or kit is presented to him, at which point he slowly begins to mold them into the “perfect child” for him and his lovely Jade Maiden- and he’s sure that she’ll love Y/N as much as he does. (MK, Mei)

Arrogant as they may be, the Golden-Winged Peng is indeed still an avian, with powerful brooding instincts. They have some vested interest in little stragglers and chicks, souls who haven’t found their footing yet. If you have wings of some kind, expect lots of flying lessons and feather cleaning. For younger or smaller individuals, Peng will frequently perform brooding, though in a very gentle way- they’ll have you sit on their lap and then squish themselves all around you with feathery neck fluff and muscular arms and then their golden wings over all that to firmly ensnare you. (Macaque if he’s much younger than they are, Mei)

———————————————————————-

The Spider Queen isn’t usually interested in making heirs- she wants the throne all to herself for as long as she can have it… but if a charming and powerful individual were to wander into her sewers, maybe the lady wouldn’t red be able to deny herself an attempt at courting them? After all, a child of your blood and hers would be a magnificent creation (and weapon) indeed- although the means of birth would be by magic. She doesn’t have any interest in nine months of pain or suffering, after all. (Sun Wukong, Macaque, Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan, Scorpion Queen)

As always, our lonely Scorpion Queen longs for companionship in any form, be it partner or paramour. Expect her to try and hook up with the friendliest face she can find, often in the form of the sweet little mortals who go hiking past her lair in an attempt to separate from the wildness of the city. After all, maybe a little darling child would help ease her loneliness! (Tang, Pigsy)

Huntsman is out on the streets looking for a suitable partner, not necessarily for want of a lover so much as he wants his pick of the “superior” stock showing off their strength to lure in mates- the thought of having a child to pass on all his knowledge to doesn’t exactly deter the arachnid. However, he’d be content with “just” getting a lifelong sparring partner out of it.

———————————————————————-

After the death of his beloved son, Ao Guang goes from “almost unaffected” by the rising moon to borderline delusional. He usually stays locked up tight inside his chambers, away from anyone who he might “confuse” with his departed Ao Bing. If one seems to be young in either appearance or behavior, he’s not unlikely to snatch them up and spirit them away to his chambers for a week of grief-fueled doting. If one outright looks similar to the dragon prince, expect him to treat them as a reincarnation or descendant. (Mei, Ao Lie)

Ao Lie tries to step up and take care of those around him, but tends to stumble and fail along the way as his mind deteriorates. There’s some bass understanding of the world (eg: fire burns, raw meat sickens, clothes keep you warmth) but a lot of the finer details are lost on him. Still, he just wants to help! If his target/targets outright reject this behavior/try to run, Lie will assume draconic form and wrap them all up in his massive green coils. (Mei, Sun Wukong, Tang Sanzang, Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing)

If anyone is “losing it” mentally, Xiangliu probably shows it the clearest. There are moments of blatant hysteria as he screams about “monsters” and “chaos” and “caves”, pounding cracks into the tiles beneath his feet and etching his feelings across the walls of any residence- and then he’s horribly silent and withdrawn, each little snake on his head leering and limp. It’s hard to tell what he actually wants, given that he’ll never communicate outside of hysterical shrieking and wanton destruction. (Sun Wukong)

———————————————————————-

Macaque’s most blatant changes are internal, the Viridescence stripping his inner inhibitions away- unlike Red Son below, this doesn’t manifest in tears or desperate pleas for love, but a wide spur of self-injurious behavior that displays itself in many forms- often trending towards stereotypies such as overeating, scratching away skin, and picking out clumps of hair. For “his own good”, Macaque tends to be the victim of other demons during the moon’s rising.

Twice a year Red Son makes himself a promise- “This time I won’t break,” he says to himself, working through a dozen new techniques and tactics to try and prevent himself from cracking and falling apart in a messy puddle of tears… all of which fail in a tidy little row, leaving poor Red Boy to weep into the lap of whoever his mother has kidnapped to tend to him… he’s actually mostly in his right mind, just incapable of biting back his tongue or tears, allowing potential romance to bloom as the verdant moon rises. (MK, Mei)

As for Mei, she’s… well, an entirely different person in Primal Moon. She’s spent so very long being taught to constantly repress herself in order to keep others from harm and agony, which the poor girl always has on her mind, no matter the day or circumstance. She’s quieter, clumsier, lonelier. She speeds on busy roads, plays with lighters, trauma-dumps to her followers… deep down, Mei believes that her inevitable fate is to be a monster. At some point this belief leads her true nature to unlock under the power of the Viridescence, causing Mei to transform into a dragon and start hoarding “treasure”… often in the form of her dearest friends/romantic interests. (MK, Red Son)

———————————————————————-

Like I’ve gone over before, MK grows extremely unstable after spending years perfectly suppressing his demonic heritage- like a spring wound too tight, he just snaps. He’s one of the few that grows legitimately violent with any “darling” he might have, forcing them to become troop-mates. He willingly falls under the command of Sun Wukong, who has become equally delusional. It’s not impossible for them to build a “troop” made entirely out of kidnapped friends and family. (Mei, Red Son, Macaque)

Though the Demon Bull King’s behavior towards his wife alone would put him halfway in the “looking for a mate” category, his behavior towards everyone else (minus Red Son) is extremely violent to the point of essentially returning to his former warlord days- and unlike many others on this list, doesn’t even bother to fight his desires. He’s just... letting go. And everyone else is left to suffer for it. The only way he ends up with a new “family member” is if he either talks Iron Fan into a new child, or she kidnaps a mortal herself to take care of Red Son.

Sha Wujing just... regresses. Back to his bone pit, to constant fighting, to streams of blood flooding his lonely river. Back to before the monk and his dear brothers. Everything just... smears to a splash of bright red and he settles for grinding anything he finds “upsetting”. Most of this is born of blind fear and repressed sorrow, so Wukong (if he’s holding himself together) is usually sent to bear Wujing’s mighty swings one after the the other as he moves in for a hug. Once the big blue giant has cooled off and come to his senses, he’s utterly overwhelmed with guilt at the sight of all Wukong’s bruises and cuts, and spends the next week taking care of him like a little brother.

———————————————————————-

As a goddess from time immemorial, Nüwa is… a little “out of touch“ when it comes to interacting with mortals. You can’t spend a handful of forevers hiding away and come out of it with stunning social skills, after all. She’s not exactly skillfully soft, but doesn’t see the need to be horribly cruel or vicious with. When the lunar haze from above softens her inhibitions, Nüwa turns to undermining the agency of her ward, subtly working to convince them that she- and she alone- can tend to their needs. (MK)

In his current state, Sandy really is the most “harmless” a yandere can be, settling for only the very occasional drugging to keep you complacent and docile while the musclebound monster man pampers you through the settling haze. The only thing changed by the Primal Moon’s impact is that Sandy becomes much more willing to verbally strike down the notion of independence by guilt-tripping you into staying “to keep him calm” as he wraps your smaller form in thick fleece blankets and pours another cup of tea with a strange layer of film on the top. (Pigsy)

Goliath doesn’t mind the viridescence too much, all things considered- more than ever during the event so people want to fight, so he’s never too busy “thinking” or “planning”- he’ll just pummel down any threat to his Queen and drag the body off to be converted into a fellow spider demon. The only real difference is that he’s not afraid to drag you out to bear witness to the growing violence and danger bred under the verdant lunar light, and then force you to patch his wounds as a show of the “affection” he expects you to have.

Already something of a troublemaker, Zhu Bajie mostly remains his old self during the semi-annual event, knowing which cards to play to get the Great Monk to do as he pleases, often to either his own or Sun Wukong’s detriment. Now he’ll direct that worsening (and at times downright malicious) manipulative behavior to you, trying to second-handedly browbeat you into submission. It’s not even that Bajie understands why- the moon just fucks his brain up so bad that he doesn’t bother pushing back against the notion that you should suffer for his own amusement.

———————————————————————-

Throughout many centuries, Yellowtusk has trained long and hard to repress the worst of his instincts, to utterly astounding success. When not working with his sworn brothers, the pachyderm demon is traveling about to aid little mortals in need, though his brain is just fogged enough to disregard basic autonomy and personal boundaries. The big guy ends up pretty “hands-on” as a result, often holding and moving about mortals like dolls.

Given that he was an actual human to start with, Syntax works the opposite of MK- he’s not just “not repressing” the moon, it simply has no impact on him. Then upon his baleful transformation, Syntax just… isn’t all that different. You can change a body, but not the soul beneath it. He’s still a person, deep down.

Mr. and Mrs. Dragon have put themselves under the same rigorous training that they ensured Mei underwent, leaving them mostly untouched by any form of enthralling bestial behavior, both rather rational and composed. Still, they aren’t exactly above snatching up maybe a new worker -cook or maid or cleaner- from a lower class to “dote on” through the week- and if that individual is young enough they may well pursue adoption when the haze lifts.

[damnedbyrights]

[lanableed]

Two creatures locked in passionate battle, both of them absolutely feral and overflowing with lust. Bottom and top begin to blur as positions constantly change and teeth sink into skin from every angle.

Flesh melds together as sweat envelops the creatures, their competition undercut by the arousal that leads them both to supremacy and to submission, over and over and over.

Marks and bruises mar their forms. Streaks of blood begin to fill the canvas of each creature as spit smears and drips from hungry, desperate mouths. The beasts will not stop until they are satisfied, or dead. The rending of flesh from bone becomes the sweet song of love between them, as blood, sweat, piss, cum, spit, and more coalesce below.

You can hear, see, smell, even taste their love…

Their growling,

biting,

moaning,

bleeding,

screaming,

tearing,

thrashing,

Feral love.

That all-consuming love which leaves nothing left but corpses and fluids.

[stadam]

anyway thinking about adam coming down to hell to make use of the clubs, bars, brothels, etc. because these indulgences are banned in heaven, and he's the biggest hypocrite ever & doesn't see it as wrong when he's the one doing it. the communion wine just isn't cutting it, sorry sera :)

[beckytheclown]

something something… carnal cravings …. Something something … feral beast … quiet muttering ……. need a muzzle …. Dissonant whispers … wolf pinning down a lamb …… eyes shifting ….. cannibalism as a form of intimacy …. wanna bite and scratch… mark my territory….

[chaoschenoo]

Scientifically speaking loud noises and falling are the two most primal human fears (as in even infants newly born have them demonstrably.) So here's my attempt at the Cacophony Devil.

[cosmicchaos21]

THIS ENDED UP HAPPENING WHILE I WAS PLAYING PAPER LILY AND STREAMING IT TO MY BOYFRIEND AND IT'S THE FUNNIEST THING EVER 😭😭😭😭

[the-black-manor]

That long, low moan they do when they’re fucking you with their whole length, hammering against your insides, and getting lost in pleasure.

[false-guinevere]

When I forcefully fuse my favorite Gothic literature into my favorite Arthurian figures then you’ll all be sorry

[itsabouttimex2]

PRIMAL MOON BULLFAM SOUNDS SO GOOD.. but also since their minds get muddied during the moon do they remember everything that happened afterwards? or is there just suddenly going to be a human in the fortress PIF is attached to? Not to mention how bad MK would feel after the moon..

Primal Moon

Bullfam Drabble Monkiefam Headcanons

Okay, so… when it comes to post-viridescence memories, there’s a definite ‘muddled’ state of recollection, sort of like how you act after drinking. Some people will remember just about everything, others have a foggy haze to sort through, and then there’s always people who wake up totally hungover with no memories of the last week.

Demon Bull King is the definite final category. He wakes up covered in fresh scars and blood, exhausted to the very bone. All signs of a successful hunt. And there’s a thrumming satisfaction that rumbles his chest, knowing that he’s just as powerful now as he was before, if not more so.

It takes a moment for the bull to compose himself, stretching out a newly aching body. Bandages are wrapped along his arms and the length of his chest, tightly wrapped and tied at the end with bows.

Red Son’s work, no doubt. He always got weepy when his father came back from the hunt. Whenever on end he would tend to his father’s wounds, his hands shaking as tears of worry filled his eyes.

And speaking of the boy, the taurine demon can feel his son’s fiery form, nestled into a thin layer of purple…

Fur.

His fur was regrowing, finally.

That wasn’t too unusual- the Primal Moon‘s impact was more than simply mental- it also sparked physical changes of many kinds.

Fur growing thicker, hair growing longer, horns sprouting from your scalp, skin hardening to thick hide, teeth sharpening to fangs, nails hardening to talons, pupils thinning to slits.

The Demon Bull King had seen so many of these, and lived through a few himself. More than a few times had those enhanced attributes won tipped the scales towards his favor in a fight.

As he sits up slowly, the euphoric agony of a new scar jolts across his waist. The demon gazes down to see his family nestled in his cupped hands, cushioned by the newly grown fur. Red Son fitfully clings to one of his fingers like a child, his sleep wracked with nightmares. Princess Iron Fan laying across his palm on her back, her countenance dignified even in sleep.

And… one little newcomer. You’re curled into a tight ball, wrapped up underneath Red Son’s torn long-coat. You’re squished as far into his son’s back as possible, drinking in the warmth he offers. One of your hands is enfolded in Iron Fan’s own, her grip tight.

One of the king’s eyebrow raises sharply in confusion, his brain still muddled by slowly fading viridescence. Were it not for the rest of his family resting soundly around you, he would have considered dumping you onto the ground below.

But he wouldn’t dare risk the health of his wife, nor that of his son.

So; reluctantly, the Demon Bull King settles back down and waits for the sun to rise, feeling the last remnants of ancient bestial instincts fade from his mind.

It’s his progeny who wakes first, though- some few hours after the taurine demon has drifted back to sleep, Red Son slowly opens his eyes.

The Primal Moon has a varied impact on everyone, shifted bodies and minds unequally. No two people are impacted the same way

Red has always hated it- being reduced to a little blubbering heap, desperate for warmth and affection.

Every year he proclaimed that this time would be different, and every year he was wrong.

No matter how hard he pushed to stay strong, Red Son was soon reduced to desperate whimpers for affection and praise, clinging to his parents desperately.

And finally, Princess Iron Fan had decided to look outside the family for a solution, giving up on potions or mental wards that never did more than barely dampen the problem.

So she had gone and snatched up a cute little mortal slinking around in the alleyways, catching you as you went to restock your family’s fridge halfway just a day into the week.

One moment you had been trudging across the paved stone and muttering about how your family was incredibly stupid to have not prepared better and been better with their resources, the next you had been spirited away to a demonic fortress.

A powerful gust of wind had blown you into the side of a half-taurine demon, who had been rubbing at his fresh horns and whimpering.

“This will be your new sibling, Red Son.”

Then she was gone in a whirlwind, left to tend to her own affairs as the demon clung to you and begged for attention.

It had been a lot to take in at the time, thrown suddenly into the affairs of a brand new family, expected to play caretaker to a fiery ‘sibling’.

Adjusting hasn’t been too awful- you simply doted on the red-haired demon and tended to his horns, and he laid his head on your lap and begged you not to stop. His father out hunting, his mother busy with her own matters, Red Son had wholeheartedly accepted you as his own family, in spite of the strange circumstances.

And Princess Iron Fan had quickly taken notice. You were useful, a gentle and kind soul who took pity on her boy, of all things.

There was no hatred or spite from your end, merely confusion and worry. Some genuine concern for Red Son. The most negative reaction they got from you was fear, and you mostly reserved that for the Bull Clones.

And… she grew mildly attached in her own stoic way, only realizing it when she watches you cook something filling and comforting for the fiery demon. You had left portions for her and her husband too, boxing them up for later convenience.

Even if you were a squishy little human with a little too big of a heart… you were admirably kind.

So, why shouldn’t she keep you around? Not only were you surprisingly mature and put-together, but you aren’t all too concerned about running back home to your parents or siblings. Nor were you desperate to escape their clutches.

Clearly, you were in no rush to return. Maybe you didn’t care for your blood.

So be it.

You could be part of their family, instead.

(I’M SO SORRY ABOUT THE SPELLING MISTAKES IT WAS LATE AND I WAS TIRED AND I ALREADY HAD TO REDO THEM TWICE)

Sun Wukong is the standout yandere in all of Primal Moon (except for maybe Azure), having an obsession for; in order of severity, Y/N, Macaque, and MK.

Y/N has to call him Bàba/爸爸, no exceptions. If they deny this demand, then the Monkey King smothers them in forced affection. It’s easy to think you can continually refuse his order since he’s not actually laying hands on you, right? It’s not like you’re being hurt. But eventually it’s the sixteenth hour straight that you’ve been sitting on his lap, getting forehead kisses and hair grooming without a single word or noise from the simian. They’ll crack eventually, needing food or water or simple audial stimulation.

Calls you ‘cub’ constantly, but might spring a ‘hun’ in softer or more lucid moments. MK is still ‘bud’, obviously, but he’ll occasionally get one of the first two monikers. And Macaque; though he doesn’t want a nickname or any doting, receives a simple ‘Mac’. If there comes a time that he’s tending to the Six-Eared Demon’s wounds, Wukong might just drop a ‘Xiandi’. Secretly, Macaque really likes that.

Group naps are a must. Everyone squishes together to fit in his lavish bed/a sunny patch of lush grass, all of you pressed flush to one another in a warm little heap.

Grooming. So much grooming. Pulling leaves and twigs from your hair as he hums, snacking on bugs and salt crystals he pulls from your hair/fur. Then he shifts around and turns his back it you, expecting the same care.

Macaque isn’t immune to the moon’s call… but he’s still pretty in control of himself throughout the week. The worst symptoms he faces are overeating, stereotypies, and mild possessiveness. Lots of gorging himself when things get stressful, stuffing down the sweetest things he can find. He paces his feet raw and plucks strands of fur, or beats his tail into the ground and pulls on his ears.

Because of the above, Wukong is severely protective of him during the week, frequently checking in on him. Any wounds are promptly cleaned and patched, then he’s resigned to an hour or so of TLC after he’s all bandaged up. The Great Sage may well resort to restrictive clothing in a well-intentioned attempt to prevent further damage.

Poor guy is always trying to advance his rank in the troop, even though he’s not entirely sure why he wants to climb ranks instead of escape. The answer is that the moon is influencing his mind.

Y/N is grateful for his care during the first Primal Moon they spend with the Monkiefam, and gives him an audiobook player to repay his kindness. He uses the hell out of that little machine during any further viridescence-born anxiety fits, shedding many of his harmful behaviors.

MK; the poor guy, has lost his mind. It used to be that he was one of the ‘normal ones’, hiding out in his room and the noodle shop all through the week.

When he was just a kid, Pigsy would stock the fridge with lots of noodle bowls for the kid to reheat and snack on, and more than a few sugary drinks that the kiddo wouldn’t normally have access to. Lots of coloring books and blank papers and crayons, ensuring that he’d keep busy. And seven full changes of clothes left on his drawer, each outfit chosen to be cozy. And then he’d endure a full week just about all by himself, watching his surrogate father down four bowls of noodles and dose himself with sleeping pills.

Spending most of the week alone as your guardian renders himself comatose, and when you’re so young, too… Primal Moon!MK has definite separation anxiety born from this event. And, speaking in Pigsy’s defense- this is about the best he can do for everyone. He will not risk hurting the kiddo, won’t risk hurting Tang, won’t risk damaging his restaurant in a fit of rage.

So MK’s only experience with the event is hiding away and trying to distract himself with art, fighting back sniffles as he draws pictures of happier days, him and Tang and Pigsy holding hands and smiling. Those photos always end up stained with tears by the time he done drawing, but Pigsy hangs them up in the restaurant anyways.

When his true self comes to light in Season Four… he’s left totally unprepared and has literally no preparation or acclimation to the lunar cycle. Frog in a pot, I suppose. No acclimation to something bad makes your reaction to it worse.

Poor kiddo.

[rottiens]

Hmmmm, ok, sooooooo toji with those dark eyes when he's taken over that old lady's grandson ... Hot! Right!?

Like, imagine, since he's killing sorcerers on instinct, he sees you and remembers you from before he died and another instinct comes up...👀

🫦

no, omg, because i know this maybe wasn't what you wanted but. i imagine him lunging towards you and the primal instinct of the technique that brought him to life is to grab your arms and pin you to the wall. his dark eyes scan you up and down trying to recognize the person in front of him, the veins in his arms growing larger from the force he exerts as he holds himself back.

you say his name and it sounds so soft on your lips. toji blinks, looking directly into your face, his nostrils flaring as he lets out hot air; his hands suddenly release your arms to wrap around your back and hold you to him.

it hurts. immeasurable force you never felt before he unloads it into your muscles, he breathes like a tired dog on the line of your neck, you say his name again and he trembles, he snaps.

"run," he warns you suddenly releasing you, taking a long step back as each syllable of your name dances on his tongue dangerously.

[damnedbyrights]

Me sitting with the girl I met online who said I was 'sweet' in the dms...