#transformation dungeon story

[sbpstudios]

local dungeon diving fighter man goes into the dungeon of a trickster god with his party to save a princess. only to get his dumb ass cat girled because he picked up the wrong necklace.

[sbpstudios]

GARETH MY LOOOOOOOVE

Zal you drew him so well!!!

Commission for @sbpstudios ✨️

[sleepdepravity]

just binged the entirety of dungeon meshi after having started it yoinks ago. i love irreverent series.

[perenlop]

you gotta admit that psmd has gotta have the coolest opening ever

[ojirocardigansniper]

rereading books is awesome until youare in the middle of reading two series and you also want to reread (checks list) four more. asap. and also like ten new books at the same time.

[transingthoseformers]

So this one's pretty self explanatory but it's also kinda "if AoE happened differently but also a permanent road trip, meeting random humans along the way"

Self explanatory as well, mostly having a lot to wonder about the Predacons' life spans and how they coped on Earth, and what if one of these elder predacons met Predaking but i never got to that point

Long as hell and is a oc x oc Continuity Mashup fic, and goddamn now that i realize it while Ferrous themself is the POV their bonded Carnage (yea they eventually bond or plan to bond in it) has serious Mary Sue energy

A fuck ton of "Spinocon origin" fics because as i said originally a single sona/self insert turned into 15 separate ones with blurry lines between them

This one was actually a super fun idea, and my goddddd did i stress that oc out in that fic and it ended up being a bv/tfp fic but with more bayverse leanings (though now that i realize it the pre serious explanation that's limited to that summary is kinda a wild situation on its own)

This one was also a fun idea because it's essentially the exact opposite of the canon orion arc and was blatantly MECH's fault (there was also a mysterious explosive they didn't know was explosive that was of neither Cybertronian nor human origin)

As you may be able to guess you can //exactly// tell where my attention span got worse

[xenodile]

"Shuro loves Falin for the same reasons he hates Laios" Completely and utterly wrong, could not be further off base.

I get the impression a lot of people watching Dungeon Meshi as it airs, or are a bit removed from its original manga run, have forgotten that Laios and Falin being monster freaks wasn't actually apparent until the events of the story. The only person that knew Falin loved monsters as much as Laios was Marcille because they were best friends at school.

Once Laios and Falin were in an adventuring party together, they both had public facing personas because they had both learned through their separate upbringings that being super interested in monsters and dungeons wasn't normal. Laios is the blunt but well meaning, outspoken and opinionated guy we all know, but Falin was way more withdrawn and soft-spoken, non-confrontational, easy to get along with. Everyone that interacted with Falin would say she's a sweet, gentle girl that everyone likes. Because she was, frankly, kind of a doormat.

The whole thing with Toshiro's infatuation with Falin is he doesn't actually know her. She is outwardly very polite and reserved, and that appeals to Toshiro because it meshes with his cultural sensibilities and how he was taught people are supposed to behave. Then he sees her marveling at a caterpillar in a private moment and decides on the spot that she's the ideal woman and proposes without actually talking to or getting to know her.

And his lack of understanding of Falin as a person is brought to the forefront in every action he takes after she gets eaten. He leaves the party and makes no attempt to contact the two people that Falin loves the most. Whether it's a matter of him just not knowing how much Falin cares about her brother and Marcille, or actively avoiding Laios to rescue Falin himself, he's demonstrating that he doesn't actually know what's important to her or understand how she feels.

Then when he meets Laios's party on the lower floors and they go over what happened, it's made even more blatant that Toshiro's affection is shallow and half-baked. He came into the dungeon a week too late and neglected his health the whole way down, so he was in no state to actually try and save Falin when he got there. When Laios talks about eating monsters, something Falin was thrilled about, Toshiro is disgusted. He threatens to kill Laios and turn Marcille in, which would never fly with Falin. His anger at the use of black magic is entirely based in his selfish idea of Falin being tainted and blaming Laios and Marcille for "ruining" his attempt to rescue her, as Kabru points out that Toshiro would have done the exact same thing in their shoes and that he's being a hypocrite. To say nothing of how he'd rather kill Falin after she's been transformed and "put her to rest" rather than put any effort into saving her, because that would require further involvement from Laios and Marcille and methods that Toshiro doesn't approve of.

And there's the fight he has with Laios, and Toshiro's subsequent confession that he had hoped to just take Falin home with him. He at no point gives consideration to what Falin feels or what she might want, only what he has decided about her based on the most surface level observation. Just like how his problem with Laios arises from his refusal to just talk to him about his boundaries, he has no actual connection with the woman he claims to love because he just wouldn't actually talk to her.

Like it's not a coincidence that every time his attraction to Falin is brought up, another character goes "yeah he's being weird about it".

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Lilith The Enchantress: Lilithian Energy In The Houses. How Each One Brings Their Own Tempting Flair.

So you're probably wondering, where am I going with this?

I wanted to focus on the temptation of lilith, and why she is so oozing and attractive as is she.

For this reading, I will focus on the houses. In my later post, it'll be in each sign.

So lets dig in! Shall we ;)

Lilith in the first house - Pleasing to the eye. Can have a very sultry appearance. There is a point where they must undergo a transformation of the self, and at some point they will have a divine, sensual aura. There sensual power comes through the way they look at you, and often times they can tell when they're being a little too flirtatious. But that is so they can get the person of their choice. Like a siren, they go in for their target and come out on top. They use their attractive persona as like a spell, think of the girl on who framed roger rabbit with the beautiful red hair and dress.

Lilith in the second house - They have an eye for detail. This is the time to take you to their home and show you the rose petals on the bed with the red and white candles everywhere. They know how to make a person want them, by adding to some flair into their home. While also using different aesthetics for they're look to match with the energy that is being shared between them and they're lover. Very picky with who they spend their time with you know. They aren't for everyone. These are the type to make you wait for it.

Lilith in the third house - These are the lovers that can write erotic letters and make you think about them all night. The way their minds can carry a story, and then when you meet them in person its even better than the books. They hold their composure well, but deep inside they are ready to be explored in more ways than one. My my my, they sure know how to right a love spell. One that lasts til the very end.

Lilith in the fourth house - It's actually so much harder to get them to show you who they truly are, thats what makes their mystique so awe dropping. The way these lilithian beings share themselves is with the power of their emotions, and eventually they will bring you right into their beautiful dungeon they call a home. Where you will find all them in just one bite. Very sensual with the right one. The one that makes them feel good, the one that knows them from the inside out. These lilith babes will let you have all of them if once you have succumb to their power.

Lilith in the fifth house - The sensual energy these lilithians carry is a one of a kind. Their magnetism never goes unnoticed, and they take you on a roller coaster of emotions with their performance. They are intimate with their audience and can put you under a spell with the way they make things look. Their hearts are in it with this one. Very gentle to the eye, but to the soul its much more deep and profound. Can't take them anywhere because their wild manes get stuck in the pursuit of love, where they will drenched you with all their sweet and tears to make more use of the bloody romances they've indulged in. They will have you thinking about them for many moons, due to them putting their all into what they do in the matters of the heart.

Lilith in the sixth house - To be loved by a lilith babe with this placement, is to have made yourself fully devoted to them. Worship is what they want, and it is what they need to pursue them. They don't let just anyone in, so you must be prepared to give yourself as an offering. Very pleasant, and freaky to ones they want most. Most never see this coming, which is why they always get away with it ;) The sensual energy they carry is very smooth, abundant and hard to describe. Mysterious auras that you want more of, so much so you will spend every hour, every day of the week wanting to get to know them.

Lilith in the seventh house - The die hard lovers who goes in for the kill. What they want wants them, and they oozee it in with their attraction spells. Their auras are unique, fresh and able to commit to their partners. It's just that they have so many options to choose from so they have no use to sticking around if you're not pulling in your weight. Im sorry, its hard having to be loved by so many! The sensual power in them is hot, tempting, and alluring. You just can't get enough of them. Can see right thru you and can captivate you with just a look!

Lilith in the eighth house - The way they just make things easy with how they seduce people is something I feel nobody else can relate to. The way they come in and take the throne with how they please their partners as well as themselves, It may be that nobody could come close. But thats the thing about being in a scorpion house, is that you touch people in a way that people are not able to control within themselves.. yet you've already mastered it. Very pleasing, pulsating, bold and full of passion. The sensual nature in them could have you feel things you've never felt before, and that will have you in a panic. because the way they are able to get you to come out of that shell and move deeper into them . Will have you begging for more & more & more. Bewitching auras indeed!

Lilith in the ninth house - The delicacy mixed with erotic power. The angels and the demon. The artist and the muse. They have the power to seduce anyone with just their mind alone. They can seduce you with their wit, their humor, their charisma and just their soul in general. But on a sensuality note, they are abundantly clear on what it is they want. And they know just how to get it. They waste no time in going after the energy it is they feel desires them. They are devoted to themselves and the power of a Godly force and nobody comes close. So to the ones who get to experience them, they feel a closeness to the divine that makes you tremble a bit. Because they show us a sense of carefreeness thats been missing, so the way they seduce you is in how they free themselves in a world that is committed to self restraint.

Lilith in the tenth house - Enchanting and mysterious in nature. The world wants to have them but cannot get enough of them. The secret to these characters is that they know what it is you're looking for, but you just won't get it from em. Not immediately that is. They'll make you wait for it. Hell, they'll even charge you for it if your a beggar. They know you want it, but they aren't easy. Like a coquette, they'll have you waiting for years, and their energy will be intact and while yours feels depleted. Lilith tenth housers just know how to work it with their sex appeal. It can transform you, to say the least. ;)

Lilith in the eleventh house - A special energy is unlocked in these lilithians because not only do they have the capacity to seduce the whole world they can be someone close to them too. Be careful with them, because they might bite! ;) Their sensual power comes from the ability to be close with them and they have a compassionate nature too! This makes them way more likeable and seductive. And even if you're close to them, there is still something else about them. Almost hard to ignore, so its no wonder friends and associates try to get it on with em.

Lilith in the twelfth house - If all the other placements are tempting to the eye, then these beings are tempting to the soul. They have a capacity to entice others with the way they carry themselves. They have a gift in pulling you in, and telling a story with just their body language alone. The moment you are seduced by them, is the very moment you come over and have a meeting with God. They are no angel, but they can just about make you feel things that where never present before.

Lilith in these houses can show the tempting, seductive energies of a person if they learn how to tap in. There is a short story about lilith being the tempting 'devil' we kind of all known of her to be. However, learning more complexities of her story. She is so much more. So this just a small version of what we know as lilith, there will be many more to come!

[forgotmysword]

“Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver x “Dungeon Meshi” by Ryoko Kui

Inspiration under the cut<3

This was heavily (completely) inspired by “a little creature who loves you” by wtfoctogon on ao3 (@wtfoctagon/@possamble on here) and the way they write falin. The second i saw this quote i thought of falin and their story. When i asked if it would be ok to post this they said its the same quote they had in mind when writing her😂 Sadly i am not the genius i think i am, wtfoctogon is just that good at creating such a beautiful and clear picture of falin. I cant imagine there’s very many of you who haven’t, but if you like farcille and haven’t been reading this story you should drop everything and go read it right this second

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

‘don’t watch dungeon meshi for the ships you’ll be disappointed’ ‘why does everyone in the fandom focus on shipping so much why can’t you just enjoy the actual story’

We did. We did enjoy the story. And if I wanted to read something that explores only the canonical themes and plot and platonic relationships I could just reread the manga.

Fandom has always been primarily driven mostly by shipping, like what the fuck were you expecting?? Dunmeshi is not unique in that way. And people are out here acting like a ship has to be canon for it to be enjoyable which is incredibly silly. Are y’all new to fandom or something? Is this your first anime? It’s okay if it is but like, maybe temper your expectations a bit.

Like, oh no people are focusing on their favorite ships when creating transformative fanworks! In other news, water is still wet!!!

[windienine]

befriend rats & kill god in a lush portal fantasy adventure by jenna moran

come on a journey with me?

there - past the scaffolding, past the rafters, up above past the windows and gables and fire escapes, if you make it to the roofs -

you'll encounter environments not of this world. rooftop gardens that have twisted themselves into dense forests, church spires that have , tiled expanses that stretch into the horizon and become meadows, gutter-lakes, deserts, mountains...

you'll encounter them, too, if you really look: the rats.

they want to show you these places, navigate them, map them, study them, know them. they want to befriend you, guide you, tell you their stories and weave new ones where you feature alongside them. if you want to make any headway, up there on the roofs, you'll need their help.

after all,

this is a place where the gods do tread. if they find you creeping about their domains, they will find you, kill you, transform you, dig their hooks into your very soul and never let go.

the rats know a secret.

gods can be killed.

you are the key.

the far roofs, currently crowdfunding, is home to some of the best role-playing game i've ever had. participating in several playtests has completely sold me on its viability as a system. notable are its set of unique oracle mechanics that tie into its freeform roleplay system, determining the physical and emotional outcomes of different events. gather hands of cards and tiles to weave together magic that can alter even monumental fates, fight peril with dice rolls, and collect components for spells and make headway on character advancement by spending time getting to know your companions, both human and murine.

it is, of course, written by dr. jenna moran, best known for previous innovative ttrpg experiences about divinity, such as nobilis, glitch, chuubo's marvelous wish-granting engine, and wisher, theurger, fatalist (WTF).

the philosophy of the far roofs is that dungeoneering is about the journey - the sights you see, the meals you make, the tales you tell, the companions you gain and lose - as much as the monster-slaying. each combat is a descriptive crescendo of the experiences faced up until that point, encompassing everything you've felt thus far. if any of this intrigues you, then, well... come on a journey with me?

[themanlykittenkayden]

Listen, I *expected* the K2 divine intervention because of the previews and behind the scenes, that’s not what got me

What got me is the pure manic energy that befell the dome for 5 minutes as Zac unprompted became dungeon master, Ally recognizes for the first time the weight of their actions as a haha silly little bit becomes a story altering act of God in the universe of their character in the worst way possible, and K2 spontaneously transforms from “straight slightly British copy of Kristen” to “a girl who is stepping out of the shadow of the one who every wants her to be, making a separate future for herself a new look, new school, and maybe, just maybe, a new person growing inside her” to fucking DEAD in a matter of seconds

[slytherinsmuse]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Between Us | Draco Malfoy ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of smoking, not proofread, characters are 18+

Summary: Fluff | A secret kiss with Draco turns into scandalous rumor.

Word count: 6496

author's note: I wrote this a while ago and it has been sitting in my docs forever. Hope you enjoy, it is quite tame. I love Pansy but had to use her negatively for this lol.

The Slytherin common room buzzed with quiet, crackling energy, the kind of whispered tension that always followed a Sorting Ceremony. Shadows flickered along the walls, cast by greenish firelight as the newly sorted students settled into their house. Yet, for you, the warmth of the room felt far from welcoming.You sat alone on a plush, emerald-green couch near the edge of the common room, attempting to focus on the shifting patterns in the fireplace. But despite your best efforts, the constant hum of whispered voices and stolen glances in your direction kept pulling you back to reality.

They all knew.

The rumor had spread like fiendfyre, whispered from ear to ear as though it were some priceless secret. Draco Malfoy and you—seen in a compromising position over the summer, tucked away from prying eyes but apparently not hidden well enough. A secret kiss. Hands in places they shouldn’t have been, displays of affection best suited for the privacy of a room, or at least, that’s how the story had been embellished.You knew exactly where they’d all heard it—from Pansy Parkinson. After all, she had opened her mouth as soon as students had set foot on the train to Hogwarts.

Pansy had always been a thorn in your side, though not by your choice. You weren’t even sure what you’d done to earn her ire; you hardly gave her much thought, and yet she never missed a chance to remind you of her presence. Maybe it was the fact that you had never bent to her snide remarks, or maybe it was that Draco would, on rare occasions, acknowledge you—a simple greeting, an offhand comment about class, a carefully crafted compliment from time to time. Nothing you’d ever taken to mean more, but it had clearly gotten under Pansy’s skin.

For Pansy, it was more than rivalry; it was a personal mission to best you, even if you had never actually joined the game.

And this time, she’d gone out of her way to humiliate you. You were certain she hadn’t just “let it slip” like she claimed. No, she had fed the rumor, stoking it into something larger and more scandalous than it actually was. She’d likely watched with satisfaction as the story spread from person to person until it was whispered in every corridor, every corner of the Slytherin dungeon. The scandal was all anyone could talk about, a new shiny present for the first day of school. Pansy had taken a single, hidden moment and transformed it into a spectacle—a kiss that wasn’t meant for anyone else’s eyes or ears, a small sliver of warmth you’d never expected to find. But now, that moment was tangled with the bitterness of betrayal, tainted by Pansy’s scheming. The entire school knew what had happened that night, twisted by Pansy’s jealousy into something cheap and tawdry.

And the worst part? She was watching you, even now, smirking from across the room, clearly basking in the havoc she’d sown. You kept your expression neutral, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but inside, anger simmered low and steady. She might have won this round, but she didn’t know everything. The real memory—the feeling of his hand on yours, the brief escape that had led to that kiss—belonged only to you and Draco.

You could almost hear her voice behind every stare—a hint of triumph mixed with resentment, the sound of it dripping with thinly veiled bitterness. Ever since, everyone seemed to be watching you, judging you, eager to see if the rumors would continue to spark. Just then, the common room door creaked open, and a familiar figure strode in.

Draco Malfoy.

He scanned the room, his gaze as icy and unreadable as ever. For a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours across the crowded room. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—something unspoken, something only you would understand. You weren’t sure if it was regret, amusement, or something else altogether. But before you could even think to react, he turned away, breaking the moment as quickly as it had begun. He crossed the room with his usual elegance, coolly ignoring the whispers, the glances, the tension that only he and you seemed to fully understand. You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to remain calm, and looked back into the fire, your mind already drifting to that night at Malfoy Manor, where it had all begun.

~~~

The grand, looming gates of Malfoy Manor opened before you, casting an intimidating shadow over the path as you arrived with your parents. You stayed close to them, more out of obligation than comfort, knowing that if it were up to you, you’d be anywhere but here. Official gatherings like these always felt stifling—a room full of people dressed in their finest suits and gowns, exchanging veiled pleasantries and flaunting their wealth in subtle but pointed ways. You were expected to fit right in, to play the part as seamlessly as they did. But the truth was, you hated every second of it.It wasn’t that you resented your family or your status—it was simply exhausting. The endless social games, the forced politeness, and the insincerity of it all wore on you, weighing you down like a set of invisible chains. But that was the cost of your family name, and like it or not, you were bound by it.

As you stepped through the manor’s doors and into the grand entrance hall, you plastered on the same polite smile you always wore at these events. Elegant tapestries lined the walls, and every surface gleamed with an almost exaggerated richness, reminding you of the status that the Malfoys prided themselves on. Tonight, they were hosting, and every detail was perfect, as it always was. The hosts themselves awaited just beyond the doorway: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, flanked by their son, Draco. Your parents greeted them first, exchanging the usual pleasantries with voices dipped in formal tones, before it was your turn.

“Lovely to see you again,” Narcissa said, her voice smooth and gracious, as if she’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

“Thank you for inviting us,” you replied, inclining your head politely, catching Draco’s gaze just for a second. His expression was as reserved as ever, though you thought you detected a flicker of boredom in his eyes—something you could relate to.

With the greetings over, you politely excused yourself, weaving through the crowd toward the bar. If you were going to make it through this night, a drink was essential. A firewhiskey, to be precise. As you reached the bar, you nodded to the bartender and murmured your order. The firewhiskey appeared before you almost instantly, amber liquid glistening in the dim candlelight. You took a long sip, feeling its warmth spread through you—a small comfort in an otherwise dreary evening.

You glanced around, watching the crowd move and mingle. People laughed, their voices tinkling like crystals, but you could sense the undercurrent of calculation behind every word. Families like yours, bound by tradition and expectations, each with their own reputation to uphold. You couldn’t imagine spending the entire evening like this, dancing around meaningless small talk with people who barely saw you beyond your family name.

With your drink in hand, you headed towards an empty couch tucked along the side of the room, half-hidden behind a potted tree with sprawling, leafy branches. It looked comfortable enough, and more importantly, it was out of the way—far from the watchful eyes of your family and the eager whispers of the guests who always seemed far too interested in every move you made.

You crossed the room quietly, weaving through clusters of people, careful not to draw attention. When you finally reached the couch, you sank into it with a relieved sigh, grateful for the brief reprieve. From here, you had a clear view of the dance floor, which was filled with couples swaying to the soft music drifting through the room. The dim lighting gave the scene a kind of dreamy, almost surreal quality.

The last thing you wanted was to be dragged out onto that floor, under the scrutinizing gaze of the entire ballroom. Your family was notorious for presenting you at events like this, encouraging you to mingle and, worse, dance with any boy they deemed suitable. It wasn’t about you, of course; it was about appearances, about showing that the heir of the Y/L/N family was sociable, poised, a proper pure-blood with all the right qualities.

But you didn’t care about any of that. You despised the dances, despised the forced politeness and the looks that always followed you as you were paraded around. People here seemed to watch you as if you were some sort of rare creature—a curiosity to be studied and judged. It felt suffocating, like you couldn’t move without someone taking notice, without someone passing silent judgement.

All you wanted was to make it through the evening with the fewest interactions possible.

Sipping the last of your firewhiskey, you leaned back into the couch, hoping you could remain here, unnoticed and undisturbed. You kept a careful eye on the dance floor, looking out for any sign of your parents. If they noticed you here, alone and sitting out the dance, they’d undoubtedly “introduce” you to some eligible heir from another pure-blood family. It was their favorite tactic to keep up appearances, and you dreaded the moment it might happen tonight.

As you watched, the dancers spun and swayed under the dim glow of the chandeliers, laughter and idle chatter filling the air. The perfect picture of refined elegance. But you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of restlessness, the sense that you didn’t belong in this world of masks and formalities. You yearned to slip out, to find a corner of the manor where you could breathe without the weight of everyone’s expectations.

You glanced to the side, and for a moment, you thought you saw a familiar face watching you from across the room. Draco, leaning casually against the wall near the dance floor, his gaze fixed on you. He seemed to be in a similar predicament, observing the crowd with a mixture of disdain and detachment. And, if you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as they met yours.

He smirked, raising his glass in a silent toast, as if acknowledging the shared struggle of enduring an evening like this. You allowed yourself a small smile, nodding back, appreciating the rare moment of understanding.

But just as you were about to settle back into the couch, you caught sight of your mother in the distance, scanning the room—her gaze already narrowing in on you, and you had a sinking feeling she had someone in mind to “introduce” you to. You quickly turned away, hoping she might be distracted by another guest before she reached you, silently praying that you could just stay hidden in your quiet corner.

The last thing you needed tonight was to be pulled into the crowd, forced into more polite interactions, or worse—a dance.

Just as you’d feared, your mother was making a beeline toward you, her arm linked with that of none other than Gregory Goyle. Fantastic. Of all the people she could have chosen, she had to bring him over. Goyle wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but he was far from your idea of ideal company. Throughout school, you’d barely spoken beyond the occasional forced interaction in Potions, and you both had an unspoken agreement to keep out of each other’s way. But tonight, it seemed that the silent truce was about to be tested.

“Y/N,” your mother said with a broad, practiced smile, “I thought you might like to meet young Mr. Goyle. He’s been telling me about his plans for the future, and I thought it would be nice for the two of you to catch up.” Her eyes were expectant, practically daring you to say something pleasant.

You forced a polite smile, nodding at Goyle, who looked equally uncomfortable, his collar slightly too tight and his expression blank as ever.

“Nice to see you, Goyle” you managed, hoping that a few words would satisfy your mother.

But of course, she wasn’t finished. “I was just telling him how much you enjoy dancing.” she continued, her gaze shifting between you and Goyle with thinly veiled encouragement. “I’m sure you’d love a dance with him.”

Your stomach twisted as you imagined the stilted, silent dance that would inevitably follow. A dance with Goyle was the last thing you wanted, and you opened your mouth to politely decline, scrambling for any excuse that wouldn’t offend him or your mother.

Just then, a voice cut smoothly into the conversation. “Actually, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Draco said, his tone impeccably polite, “Y/N has already promised me the first dance.”

You turned, surprised but profoundly relieved to see Draco standing there with an easy, confident smile. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and you caught the faintest flicker of mischief in his gaze. He offered his hand to you, waiting with the quiet assurance of someone who knew he would not be refused.

Your mother looked taken aback for a second, her plan clearly derailed. But she recovered quickly, nodding with approval. “Well, isn’t that lovely,” she said, her gaze shifting between the two of you with a hint of satisfaction. “Go on, then. Don’t let me keep you.”

You took Draco’s hand, internally cursing the fact that you now had to dance but still relieved to have avoided Goyle. As he led you toward the dance floor, you leaned in, muttering under your breath, “Thanks for that. I thought I was doomed.”

Draco chuckled softly, his hand settling around your waist as he guided you into the first steps of the waltz. “I figured you might need rescuing,” he replied, his voice low. “Besides, you looked like you’d rather disappear than dance with Goyle.”

“You’re right about that,” you admitted, feeling the warmth of his hand on your waist, the steady grip as he led you effortlessly across the floor. “But dancing’s not exactly my idea of fun either.”

He raised an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eyes. “I didn’t think you were the type to hate dancing.”

“It’s not the dancing I hate,” you muttered, glancing around at the people watching you—some with curiosity, others with envy. “It’s the audience.”

Draco smirked, steering you through the dance with ease. “Then ignore them. Just focus on me.”

You scoffed but allowed yourself to meet his gaze, letting the room around you blur into the background. It was easier said than done, but somehow, with his steadying presence, you found yourself relaxing, if only a little.

The music swelled around you, and for a few moments, you forgot about the crowd, the whispers, and the endless expectations pressing in from all sides. The world narrowed down to just you and Draco, moving in sync across the dance floor.

When the music finally slowed to a close, you realized you hadn’t once looked away from him. He released you with a small, almost reluctant smile, offering a polite bow as he stepped back.

“Well,” he said, his voice low and laced with something unreadable. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “No… it wasn’t,” you murmured, feeling a bit of relief now that the dance was over. “But I’d rather not repeat it.”

Draco’s expression shifted slightly, a faint shadow crossing his face as he straightened up, his grip loosening just a bit. “Ah,” he said coolly, his tone clipped. “I’ll make sure not to inconvenience you next time.”

You blinked, realizing he’d misread your meaning. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you shook your head, amused at the unexpected flash of offense in his expression. “I didn’t mean you,” you said, placing a gentle hand on his arm to guide him away from the crowd. “I meant this whole… production.”

Draco’s face softened, and his smirk returned, the brief flash of irritation fading from his gaze. “Ah, well, in that case, allow me to make it up to you.” He inclined his head, leading you through the crowd and back toward the bar. “How about a drink to ease the suffering?”

You laughed softly. “Now that,” you said, settling beside him at the bar, “I won’t turn down.”

He ordered two firewhiskeys, and as the bartender slid the glasses across the polished counter, Draco raised his in a quiet toast. “To surviving our families and insufferable company.”

You clinked your glass against his, smiling. “You know, for the record, I actually like your company from time to time.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, looking pleasantly surprised. “Is that so? I suppose I’ll take that as a rare compliment.”

“Take it however you like,” you replied, amused. “But consider it a thank you for saving me back there.”

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Anytime,” he said, with a hint of something playful in his voice. “After all, we seem to be the only sane ones here tonight.”

You both settled into comfortable silence, sipping your drinks and watching the ballroom from your secluded corner. The firewhiskey was beginning to warm you from the inside, dulling the sharp edges of the night. You felt a slight buzz, a touch more adventurous than you’d felt before. You swirled your glass, savoring the last sip as you casually scanned the room once again.

That’s when you spotted Draco’s usual crowd huddled together near one of the large windows. Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Blaise—all laughing and chatting, oblivious to anyone else. Pansy, however, seemed to be the exception. Every few moments, she cast a glance your way, her lips curling in a faint smirk whenever she caught sight of you and Draco sitting together.

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to Draco. He was watching the room with a quiet sort of ease, the ghost of a smirk still lingering on his face. You could see the way his gaze occasionally drifted over to his friends, yet he hadn’t made any move to join them. Instead, he remained here with you, seemingly content in your quiet corner, away from the crowd.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you found yourself glancing at him, trying to read the expression on his face. “Not to sound ungrateful,” you said, breaking the silence, “but aren’t your friends waiting for you?”

Draco tilted his head, meeting your gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. “What, you mean that insufferable company?” he replied with a smirk, echoing his earlier toast. “Believe me, I’m doing myself a favor. I will see them enough in school next month.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Fair enough, but I’m sure Pansy would disagree. She’s been shooting daggers at me since we sat down.”

Draco’s smirk widened, and he took a casual sip of his drink. “Pansy’s always shooting daggers at someone. If it weren’t you, it would be Daphne or some poor soul she deemed unworthy.” He shrugged, his gaze drifting back to you, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. “Maybe tonight I just prefer the company here.”

His words sent a spark of warmth through you, and you found yourself meeting his gaze, letting the silence between you linger a bit longer than necessary. “Well,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I can’t say I mind. You’ve turned this night around a bit.”

Draco’s expression softened, and he leaned back, his gaze steady on yours. “Glad to be of service. It’s not every day I get to rescue a damsel from Goyle and the horrors of small talk.”

You laughed softly, feeling the edges of your reluctance and guardedness soften under the gentle buzz of the firewhiskey and Draco’s rare warmth. You weren’t exactly close with Draco—not in the way his friends were, and certainly not like Pansy always tried to be. Your families, though, had always maintained a certain closeness. Enough that you’d spent more than a few summer afternoons and winter evenings together over the years, learning to enjoy each other’s company in a way that felt natural outside the halls of Hogwarts.

In the tightly woven social fabric of Hogwarts,however,  you each belonged to your own worlds. He had his crowd, and you had yours. You only really crossed paths at the occasional party, or when forced together on a school project. Not that you minded. Draco was pleasant enough company, and you’d never deny that he was easy on the eyes. Not that you have ever thought about pursuing something with him. After the mess of your last relationship, you’d made a rule for yourself: no more romantic entanglements while at Hogwarts. It wasn’t worth the drama and the endless complications. Word had gotten around, of course, as it always did. It wasn’t long before people knew you were unreachable. Boys who once might have tried to chat you up quickly learned that you weren’t interested. You liked it that way; it was simpler, cleaner, and it meant you didn’t have to deal with the annoyances that had come with your last relationship.

But tonight… well, tonight was different. Maybe it was the firewhiskey, or maybe it was the way Draco was looking at you now, his usual cool exterior softening as he took you in. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what exactly was going through his mind.

“You look beautiful,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter than before. “I rarely see you so formal. It’s… a welcome change.”

A faint blush crept into your cheeks, and you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes. “Can’t say the same about you,” you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I mean you’re always dashing in these black suits. But you always seem to be wearing them. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

He smirked, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve with a casual elegance that only seemed to amplify his charm. “Not everyone can pull off the classic look,” he said smoothly. “But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You shook your head, amused by his confidence. “You would.”

Draco leaned in slightly, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place. “I mean it, though. You should dress up more often.”

You shrugged, still smiling. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even be here. I’d be home in my favorite old t-shirt.”

“Ah, but then I wouldn’t get to see you like this,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. There was a glint in his eyes, something warm and unexpectedly genuine that caught you off guard.

For a moment, you held his gaze, the soft glow of the firewhiskey warming you in more ways than one. You felt a flutter of something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time, a whisper of possibility you’d long sworn off. But just as quickly, you reminded yourself of your own rule—the boundary you’d set for yourself, the reason you were so guarded in the first place.

Still, you allowed yourself a small smile, letting the moment linger a second longer than necessary. “Enjoy it while it lasts, then,” you said, your voice light but your heart suddenly a little heavier.

Draco smirked, lifting his glass in a quiet toast. “Trust me—I intend to.”

A comfortable silence settled between you both, the kind that felt oddly intimate. Neither of you needed to fill it with idle chatter, and yet, the quiet left you with a strange sense of anticipation that made your heart race just a little faster.

After a few moments, you excused yourself, mumbling something about needing the bathroom. Really, you just needed a moment alone—to calm your nerves and shake off the slight fluster that Draco had somehow managed to provoke in you. His words, his appearance, the way he was looking at you… It was unsettling in the most unexpected way, breaking through that carefully constructed barrier you’d kept around yourself for so long.

You took a few deep breaths as you leaned over the sink, splashing a bit of cool water on your hands and pressing your fingertips to your temples. ‘Get a grip’ you told yourself, trying to steady the flutter in your chest. After a moment, you straightened, adjusted your silk gown, and composed yourself as best as you could before heading back out.

But as you opened the door, you found Draco standing there, his hands tucked into his pockets, looking for all the world like he’d been waiting for you. His expression softened as his eyes met yours, a hint of that same mischief dancing in his gaze.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, feeling a bit caught off guard. “I—yes, just needed a moment.”

Draco’s smirk widened, but he didn’t press. Instead, he glanced toward the crowd milling around in the ballroom, the faint music and laughter drifting through the hall. “Come on,” he said, his tone casual yet inviting. “Let’s get out of here for a bit. I know a place where we can actually breathe.”

Against your better judgement, you found yourself nodding. You knew you should probably decline, head back to the ballroom, and spend the rest of the night blending into the background as you’d planned. But something in the way Draco looked at you, the quiet invitation in his words, made you reconsider. And before you could think twice, you were following him down one of the manor’s winding, dimly lit corridors, away from the prying eyes and relentless whispers.

The path he took you down was secluded, lit only by soft candlelight and the faint silver glow of the moon streaming in from the high windows. You walked in silence, side by side, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you rounded corners and ascended a narrow staircase. It was thrilling, a quiet adventure you hadn’t expected, and every step felt like it was drawing you deeper into a moment that belonged only to the two of you.

Finally, Draco led you to a small, secluded balcony overlooking the sprawling, moonlit gardens below. It was a beautiful view, with the manicured hedges and twinkling fountains stretching out beneath you. The night air was cool, and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, enjoying the pleasant silence.

Draco leaned against the railing beside you, his gaze shifting from the gardens to you. “Better than the ballroom?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly, nodding. “Much better. Thank you for this.”

He shrugged, his expression softening as he looked out over the gardens. “You looked like you needed an escape.”

Silence settled between you again, but it was different this time, layered with something deeper, something that seemed to linger in the space between you. The usual guardedness in Draco’s gaze had faded, replaced by something warm, almost vulnerable.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asked quietly, his voice barely more than a murmur.

You glanced at him, a bit startled by the sudden shift in his tone. “Of course.”

He paused, his gaze holding yours, and for a moment, he looked almost hesitant, as if weighing whether to say what was on his mind. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft yet steady. “I know we don’t… talk much at school. But I enjoy this, you know—being here with you. Away from everything.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, his words piercing through the careful walls you’d built. It was a simple confession, but something in the way he said it made it feel like a revelation, an acknowledgment of something you’d both felt but never voiced.

The vulnerability in his gaze, the quiet sincerity of his words… It was enough to make you forget, just for a moment, all the reasons you’d sworn off relationships, all the rules you’d set for yourself.

Without thinking, you reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“I enjoy it too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Draco’s gaze softened further, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might close the distance between you. But he held back, his hand resting atop yours on the railing, fingers curling slightly around yours. The night was silent, the world narrowing down to just the two of you, standing together under the silver light of the moon.

Draco’s hand lingered on yours, his touch warm and grounding. He shifted slightly, his gaze still fixed on you, and in that heartbeat of silence, something shifted. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he stepped closer, his hand sliding from yours to your waist. The world around you seemed to fall away, leaving only the soft rustle of the night and the faint glow of the lights from the ballroom below.

You felt the cool press of the balcony railing against your back as he gently guided you closer, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your cheek, and every inch of you was acutely aware of the closeness, of the way his hand rested on your waist, holding you in place with a quiet, possessive strength.

His gaze drifted to your lips, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he hesitated—as if giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you let your eyes close, leaning into the moment, into him.

And then, softly, his lips met yours.

The kiss was slow, unhurried, each movement deliberate and intoxicating. His hand on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his touch tender but undeniably possessive. You felt his other hand come up, fingertips grazing along your jawline, steadying you, anchoring you in the quiet thrill of the moment.

The world outside blurred into shadows, the lights from the ballroom casting faint glimmers across your entwined forms. You were nothing more than silhouettes, melting together under the faint glow of the night, every touch, every breath, grounding you in a reality that felt dreamlike.

Draco’s fingers traced gentle patterns along your waist, his lips moving against yours with a sensual, lingering intensity that left you breathless. You could feel his heartbeat quickening under your palm, mirroring your own. For a moment, it was just the two of you, caught in the stillness of the night, bodies pressed together, lost in the quiet passion of the kiss.

When you finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his fingers still curled around your waist. The soft, unspoken intensity in his gaze sent a thrill through you, and you found yourself unable to look away.

“Was that against your rules that every boy seems to grumble about?” he murmured, his voice a hushed whisper, laced with quiet amusement and something deeper, something that made your heart race.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the last remnants of your guard slip away. “Maybe,” you whispered, your own voice barely audible. “But I think I’m willing to make an exception.”

Draco’s smirk softened, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your cheek as his other hand moved lower, resting on your behind. “Because I don’t think I’m quite finished with this evening.”

And as he leaned in to kiss you again, you knew, without a doubt, that neither were you.

Below, a few steps away from the garden path, Pansy stood with the rest of the group, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She tapped her foot impatiently, casting annoyed glances at Theo, who was still taking his time with his cigarette, chatting idly with Blaise and Goyle. They were laughing, nudging her now and then with teasing remarks about Draco, each comment only stoking her frustration.

Pansy barely paid them any attention, her mind focused solely on one thing: the fact that Draco hadn’t even spared her a second glance all evening. They were meant to be close—everyone knew it. She was supposed to be the one at his side, the one who caught his eye, but tonight, he hadn’t even acknowledged her. Glaring at Theo and the others, she ignored their snickering, shifting her gaze to the grand, towering structure of the manor, where the faint glow of candlelight spilled from the windows onto the balconies above. She tilted her head, scanning the empty stone terrace—when she froze.

Two silhouettes, unmistakable even from this distance, stood pressed close together on the far balcony, half-obscured in shadow but undeniably intimate. Her hands clenched at her sides as she watched, each movement between them driving another nail into her pride. She recognized Draco’s frame immediately, the way he leaned in, his hand lingering at the girl’s ass.

And then she knew. She knew who it was with him.

Y/N.

Her jaw tightened, her mind whirling with disbelief and raw, seething anger. It wasn’t just that he was with you—it was the way he was with you, the way his hand held you close, his body language tender in a way she’d never seen. Her eyes narrowed, a plan already beginning to form as she forced herself to look away.

She wouldn’t tell the others now—no, that would be too soon, and it would be too obvious. No, she’d wait. She’d bide her time, keeping this little secret to herself until the right moment came. And when it did, she’d let it slip so perfectly, so innocently, that everyone would know what had happened. She’d make sure the entire school knew just how unguarded you and Draco had been, exposing every secret look, every whispered conversation, and every stolen moment she could piece together. Satisfied, Pansy forced a smile, masking her fury as Theo finally finished his cigarette and turned to her, oblivious to the fire simmering behind her gaze.

In a month’s time, Hogwarts would know exactly what she’d seen tonight—and you and Draco would regret it.

~~~

The memory of that night on the balcony lingered as you pulled yourself back into the present. You tried to brush it off, but the details clung to you—the way Draco’s hand felt on your back, the steady press of his lips, the look in his eyes that hinted at something neither of you had been willing to admit.

And now, here he was, sitting across from you in the Slytherin common room, Pansy’s scathing gossip hanging in the air between you both. She was going on again, her voice sharp and smug, spinning the memory of that kiss into a scandalous tale that sounded so far from the truth it bordered on fantasy. Still, her words settled over you like a cloud, a reminder of just how easily that moment could spiral out of control in everyone else’s eyes.

Then, without warning, Draco cut her off.

“Maybe if you spent more time minding your own business, you’d actually have the details right,” he said, his tone calm but biting. His words stopped her cold, and he looked directly at her with a pointed, dismissive glare. “In fact, I really enjoyed it—and I’d do it over and over again if I could.”

A stunned silence fell over the common room. Heads turned, conversations dropped, and you could feel every pair of eyes fixated on you both. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, you wondered if Draco was serious or if he’d just thrown out those words to put Pansy in her place.

But when he glanced your way, you caught something in his expression—a flash of vulnerability, a quiet confidence that told you he wasn’t just trying to save face. He meant it.

You couldn’t meet his gaze for long, heat rushing to your face as you excused yourself abruptly and left, every nerve alive with confusion, anger, and something else you couldn’t name. You roamed the castle aimlessly until you found a quiet spot to escape the day’s relentless whispers. You leaned against the cool stone wall, letting the silence settle over you, trying to untangle your feelings.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice called softly, and you turned to see Draco standing there, his expression unreadable as he approached.

“What was that all about?” you demanded, your voice low but filled with emotion. “You practically confirmed every rumor Pansy started. Everyone thinks…” You trailed off, too frustrated to continue.

Draco looked at you steadily, his usual arrogance tempered by something softer, something real. “I know. And I don’t regret it,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I didn’t just say it to rile her up, Y/N. I said it because it’s true. That night meant something to me.”

His words struck you, cutting through the haze of your frustration and leaving you defenseless against the emotions you’d buried since that night. You looked away, struggling to keep your composure. “And what, exactly, did it mean to you?” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.

Draco stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin, forcing you to look at him. His gaze was intense, every bit of his usual guardedness stripped away. “It meant that I want more than just a memory,” he said softly. “I want more than just that night.”

You felt a surge of something raw and overwhelming, a mixture of hope and fear tangled together in a way that left you breathless. He was asking for more than just a kiss, more than just a fleeting connection—he was asking for a chance, a real chance.

For a moment, you stood there, caught between the past and the possibility of something real. Part of you wanted to pull away, to put your walls back up and walk away from whatever this was before it grew into something you couldn’t control. But another part, a part you’d tried so hard to ignore, wanted to take that risk.

Finally, you reached up, your hand resting gently against his cheek. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Draco,” you said, your voice steady despite the whirlwind inside you. “But maybe… maybe I don’t want it to just be a memory either.”

A slow, genuine smile softened his expression, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours, his hand still cradling your face. In that quiet moment, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, bound by a promise that was fragile yet undeniable.

As he pulled you into a soft, lingering kiss, you knew that whatever came next, you were ready to face it together, no matter how messy, complicated, or risky it might be. This wasn’t just a kiss; it was the beginning of something that neither of you could—or wanted to—ignore.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.

[dunmeshistash]

Maybe this is a dumb question but can dunmeshi elves gain weight? Mithrun is tiny as an elf but very muscular as a normal human. I don’t recall any other elves who are very muscled or chubby

No dumb questions, I wonder too

I imagine Kui wanted to follow the trope of how elves tend to be in most media, the small and lean beauty standard (they also don't get blemishes in their skin for example). It's implied that the dungeon meshi race differentiation happened with influence from wishes the demon granted, so the issue for elves to gain much muscle or fat might be due to that?

They also don't seem to have very tasty or calory dense foods in their culture since apparently even their sweets aren't that sweet (fruitcake), and Marcille's mom thinks northern continent tallmen food is tastier.

So it can be all from genetics to lifestyle to demonic magic, but still it's all just excuses to follow the trope

I wouldn't take any of that into consideration when making ocs btw, be free, plus dungeon meshi in general doesn't have much extreme size differences between the actual characters in the story (Unless it's a trait for the race itself like orcs) so they might exist.

I think human Mithrun is a funny exaggeration of his actual traits and also looking so small as an elf might be part of how his own body is, Since if you compare him to Pattadol and Lycion they look bigger than him in elf form but their human forms in the daydream hour aren't super buff looking, I wouldn't say changeling transformations are objective.

[wicksend]

Wick's End Masterpost

Set in a fantasy RPG, selfless soldier Glendale cheats death at the cost of living on with a curse. Now 6" tall, he quests with his personal servant Harry (a dog that has mysteriously turned human) and comrade Freya to find cures for their respective ailments.

▭|═══════ﺤ

A lighthearted fantasy adventure story that transforms its zany premise into a meaningful exploration of the burnout experience. Wick's End is SFW and for all audiences, with occasional themes of substance usage.

( Webcomic by @eightyuh - Professional inquiries: eightyuh @ gmail)

Pilot Chapter 1 (Canon remake of pilot - Coming next) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 (Coming soon)

Please refer back to this original source of this post for updates!

What was your inspiration to make this? The story is based off of a dream that I had.

When will the comic be updated? There are 10 planned chapters total, but it will only be updated when I feel inspired to do so.

Can I draw the characters? Yes! Just keep it SFW.

What kind of dog is Harry? He’s an Australian Shepard!

NOTICE:

You are welcome to submit Tumblr asks to the characters!

N*S*F*W / K*NK DO NOT INTERACT

Glendale Goodwyn (Toyhouse) (Artfight)

Harry (Toyhouse) (Artfight)

Freya Ferguson (Toyhouse) (Artfight)

Glen and Harry pre-story (2)

Bathing

All Alternate Universe depictions are tagged under #WICK'S END AU

Genderbent (2) (3)

Tiny Harry AU (Comic) (Hashtag)

As Dogs

Dungeon Meshi Crossover (2)

Bodyswap

All fan-creations can be viewed under the tag #WICK'S END FANART

Majora’s Mask, The Dark Crystal, Princess Tutu, Ranking of Kings, Project .hack, Angel's Advocate, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Spotify playlist: I play this while working on the main comic :) Mostly dungeon synth, RPG videogame OSTs, fantasy instrumentals -- and some Pogo thrown in too!

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

Inevitable been thinking about how that one anon viewed Laios as a monsterfucker, and I think it made me realize the source of that confusion:

I think many monsterfuckers, and also many (dare I say most) monster devourers like Laios, both derive their desire from the same source: a latent wish for apoteratosis, the wish to become a monster.

Linguistic side note: apotheosis, becoming a god, breaks down to apo- (towards the end point), theo (god), -osis (turn noun into verb), so I swapped in the root for monster, hence apo- terato -osis. Side note over.

Monster devourers are a rather rare archetype in (mainstream) fiction, but they do exist. Those who seek to mimic or emulate the monster's power, those who find them endlessly fascinating and study them well past the point of obsession, those who wish to show their dominance over the monster by proving that they can kill and eat it... and I think Laios is the first I've seen who takes the title quite so literally, where his obsession goes straight to monsters-as-food.

Monsterfuckers, meanwhile wish to become close to the monster in a non destructive way (or at least a typically less destructive one, usually the only casualties are furniture and few bandages are needed, but I'll acknowledge that exceptions definitely exist). They wish to bond with it, to connect to it through lust or intimacy, to be able to stand at its side. They wish, on some level, to join it. Side note, I'm not saying this is true of all teratophiles, some are just kinky and driven by the thought of positive physical pleasure, or who find the personality of a given monster appealing, but I do think the apoteratotic desire is an underlying driver for many, I'd guess well more than half, it's just a subtle enough thing that I don't think most are consciously aware of it.

There's also a third point to the secret apoteratosis triangle that might surprise you: the monster slayer. Sure many, even most, slayers are driven by something like disgust or xenophobia or even rationality, but a significant minority land in the "if you can't join 'em, beat 'em" a.k.a. "I can't be you, so I'll destroy you" camp.

And these three reactions are, I notice, the three most common reactions that people have to one thing: the unattainable desire. The sentence begins "I cannot have it..." and these three camps end it different ways.

The teratophages say "so I shall dominate it." They seek what power they can grasp so they can have some modicum of control, so they can try to "have" it anyway. The kaiju corpse scavengers in Pacific Rim including refined and suave mob boss types just smacks of this attitude.

The teratophiles say "so I'll get as close as I can." There's a werewolf romance book where they're considering trying to turn the girlfriend, though they have no idea if she'll survive it (boyfriend was turned by accident then abandoned, so he's clueless, and they haven't found any others to teach them), and she says that she's fine remaining human, because she shares the power through him. "I have it, because you have it." The façade eventually breaks and in a vulnerable moment she confesses that she'd be willing to risk even a likely death to try to be turned. When they get in contact with an elder who can turn her safely she doesn't even wait a week.

The teratophobes write that whole sentence as "if I can't have it, then no one can." I'm sure everyone has seen enough examples of this behavior to understand that it's just a kind of love turned corrupt.

I'm not the first to notice the underlying apoteratotic urge: the aforementioned werewolf story, indeed many werewolf and vampire stories romanticize the transformation of a human into a monster. Back to Dungeon Meshi, author Ryōko Kui is fully aware of it with how Laios's underlying desire is eventually brought out of the subtext and explicitly named as his dysphoria with humanity, and his wishing that he could be a monster. For Laios that desire skipped right past the socially unacceptable monsterfucking, explicitly a form of bestiality in that world, to the socially acceptable devouring, though tempered by his respect and admiration of monsters into a desire for symbiosis with them. He cannot become one in truth (or so he thought when younger) but he could become part of their food web. It's as close as he thought he could get. Of course, that's the Watsonian explanation; the Doylist explanation is that Ryōko Kui wanted to subvert expectations, and also wanted to explore this angle of it.

So, all taken together, I think people read Laios as monsterfucker coded simply because teratophiles, teratophages, and teratophobes all share the same root motivation: apoteratosis. Thus, all three branches are coded very similarly.

It's similar to something I've seen in Batman fandom: some fans project romantic love between various members of the Batfamily, which is both wildly against canon and thoroughly hated by some other branches of fandom. But it is understandable, since familial love and romantic love both come from the same root, love of another. If someone doesn't recognize the simultaneous similarities and distinctions, it's all to easy to conflate them. If you don't actually understand the distinction, then the signs of affection between siblings might look the same as the signs of affection between lovers. Likewise, if you don't understand the distinction, the urge of the monster devourers (or ecologists) might look the same as the urge of the monster fucker.

I've sat on this for near a month, partially because of my repeated absences, partially because I wanted to honor it with an equally in-depth response. But 24 days later I've still got nothing, while I can't speak for that particular person I think in general you hit the nail right on the head for the base roots. I got no notes. Even with Laios...like all I can add is how supplemental materials actually confirm he did want to be a monster researcher but found books too dry, the only one who seemed to really *get* monsters was shunned. and how wild he goes when talking with an actual werewolf, "The existence I thought unobtainable is now right in front of me".