I'm convinced the whole 'Demon Gaze' in 'Demon Gaze' isn't just a control mechanism. It's a metaphor for a relationship. The book frames it as a supernatural leash, a way for the protagonist to bind and command these powerful beings, but every time the power is used, it costs something. There's a symbiotic deterioration, a mutual recognition of vulnerability. The demon is seen and known in a way it wasn't before, stripped of its pure monstrousness, and the Gazer is exposed to a torrent of alien consciousness that chips away at their own humanity.
It reminds me of how knowledge itself can be a form of possession. You can't 'know' something truly powerful without it changing you. The gaze is never one-way; it's always a stare-down. By the end, the question isn't who controls whom, but what parts of each have been irrevocably swapped in the looking. The protagonist's final decision hinges on this—whether to sever the gaze or accept the permanent alteration it's caused.