#this is not the dungeon of good decisions

[thedungeonofbaddecisions]

Do you regret the Monster Manual post?

When it first gained popularity in 2019, I did regret it, a little. But I've always been kind of a troll delivering cursed knowledge and questions, and after starting work at my current job in a sex store at the end of 2020 and getting more comfortable with the subject of sex and kink and so on, I started really leaning into it and enjoying it.

So, no, I don't regret it. Despite the usual regard of Tumblr fame as being penance for one's sins, I believe that the Waifu Catalogue post serves as a great source of discussion regarding consent, kink, and world-building, and also a place where I can scar damn near anybody - even the hardcore monsterfuckers - with some really fucking cursed ideas.

Also, I've made a couple friends through the Waifu Catalogue, which is how we got the Smurf Theories! What's not to love?

[monotcchi]

dragon roast dreamin' 🍖💨✨

[scribz-ag24]

Everyone go play PMD Seven Symphonies, it's a sequel for both Explorers of Sky and Special Episode 0 and it's making me fall in love with a bunch of teams i had never thought twice about!! i cant believe im saying this but i actually wanna draw team raider.

[nomouthtospeakof]

hey gale. gale.

halaster? the halaster? halaster fucking blackcloak?

you not only personally know halaster blackcloak --

you chose HIM --

-- as your CAT SITTER??

[cosmicterrorthe8th]

Do you think the kiddads listened to Monster from epic the musical and felt it in their bones?

Lark was willing to do anything, even throw an infant off a wall to kill the doodler for a long time. Do you think Lark felt like he became a monster in the process but was willing to be worse to undo his mistake.

Sparrow literally doomed a world for his family like Odysseus was willing to do for his family. The rest of the kidadds were about to have the sun burn the doodler away killing almost everyone but their families

Do you think they had to kill doodlerized children or people they knew like a child who went to grants library or terrys student and do you think that broke down their morals?

We're the kiddads at a point where they thought that they had killed so many people but that the only way they could undo the world and make it worth it was to continue killing and trying to throw their guilt away like in the song? They felt that they couldn't save the world by becoming healed and better and that they have to stay in the fight or flight state(?) where they are desensitised to violence or what they have to do and double down on that and become worse to undo the doodler

Do you think any of them saw the parallels and like used to listen to this song to get themselves ready for a day of slaughter? Idk. Also I think Terry would love it because he's a theatre kid enough to introduce it to them all to it. I think this song upsets them all but grant especially

[space-writes]

Chapter Eight

In which Ashenivir enjoys a night out

[ID - a purple decorative divider]

Snow crunched beneath Ashenivir’s boots. The main thoroughfares of the Castle Ward were clogged with sludge and slush already, and thin snow flurries swirled intermittently from the iron-grey sky, flakes catching in his hair. Cold bit at his nose and cheeks, but he left his hood down. He liked the sharp edge it gave the morning, so unlike anything he’d ever experienced in Mythen Thaelas.

The cobbles of the market were slick beneath his feet as he wound through the bustling crowd. He hoped the bookseller would be out again today; the bazaar back home had some stalls that were permanent, but others depended on the day, and he didn’t yet know if Waterdeep’s market worked the same way. It took him a quarter of an hour to find her, stamping her feet and rubbing her gloved hands together behind the carefully organised chaos of the mound of books heaped over her stall.

“Back again?”

“You could have warned me there was a cliffhanger,” Ashenivir said.

She grinned, then plucked three slim volumes out of the pile and handed them to him. “Hard in Hightown, right? That Tethras fellow really knows what he’s doing.”

“Are these going to have me back again tomorrow?”

“Probably, but that’s all the parts that are out as yet.” She tucked a spring of orange hair back from where it had escaped her thick woollen cap. “You’ll just have to wait like the rest of us.”

Keep Reading - AO3 / Dreamwidth / Neocities

[ID - a purple decorative divider]

Obedience taglist: @foxboyclit @belovedviolence @thegreatobsesso (ask to be +/-)

[ermineadoptera]

i just have one voice acting request for the second cour

[constantnever]

two paths lie before me: rewatch buffy or rewatch the magicians. I know which is the correct path & yet for some incomprehensible reason I'm still unsure of my choice

[pankomako]

suddenly kinda tempted to play Hades. however im kinda thinking of waiting for it to go on sale bc 25 bucks feels like a lot. not sure though bc i might forget by the time it does lmao

[thedungeonofbaddecisions]

Me: I've never needed to regain focus points without sleeping. How do I do that? Sean: You spend 10 minutes to Refocus. You're a sorcerer, so you can just sit on your ass and do nothing for ten minutes. Me: This is what privilege looks like, motherfuckers!

[thelazyaesthetic]

Question for people who understand the Japanese comics industry: why is this so much worse than the published comic?

Some decisions, like moving Izutsumi's introduction to later and instead giving Marcille her trait of being openly horrified at eating monsters, definitely feel like something you'd realize after hammering out the first draft. But everything else is also just worse - the art is dull and devoid of detail, the characters feel flat, the pacing is off...

Is this the influence of an editor? Of having assistants? Is it just the natural result of trying to cram the entire premise of your comic into 8 pages for the proof of concept? Did enough time pass between this and the proper release that Ryoko Kui just had time to refine every rough aspect of the initial pilot into solid gold?

have you ever seen/posted the original dungeon meshi oneshot on here? the early dm stuff you're posting reminds me of it, but i don't know if i've ever seen it on tumblr. there's a few translations floating around! it has izutsumi in the main party, it's funny to look back at old posts online from before she was introduced in the actual manga talking about how they wish the party still had a catgirl in it lol

LOL YEAH

I assumed most people had read it since its the first chapter in mangadex, but I do have it saved!

[filo-academia]

will read these books first before buying new ones aka let's see who wins: my desire to buy books vs my wallet

[lunarsands]

Should I actually sleep all day today, or should I try to write and/or watch anime? Hmm...

[talietikasero]

i'm like 40 away from getting all 200 aloha links and i cannot get over how one of the dogs you can befriend is a very good girl named justice

[anarchomoop]

"What if in order to not get killed in boss fights you had to sit and wait in regular fights and let the enemies hit you so you could have actual HP and defense?" "Oh, it's boring. That's a bad and boring idea."

Final Fantasy II’s grinding system is so funny, the dev team were just like “ok that sucked, we’ll never do that again ever”

[kryllia]

Imprisoned Prince

Yandere Monster Imprisoned Prince x Reader Maid

Art from pinterest (they said ai generated)

You swallowed hard as you stood before the massive iron door that separated you from the monster prince. The torchlight flickered dimly in the dungeon corridor, casting eerie shadows along the damp stone walls. The tray in your hands trembled slightly as your grip tightened. You had heard the stories—the whispered tales of maids who never returned, of those who did but with mangled limbs and lifeless gazes.

Yet, you had no choice. The head maid had assigned you this duty, and disobeying her was not an option. You steeled yourself and pushed open the heavy door, the hinges creaking as if in protest.

Inside, the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight before you.

Osiris Asmor, the monstrous crown prince of Asmora, sat against the far wall, his long white hair a tangled mess, streaked with dried blood. His golden eyes, burning like molten fire, snapped to you immediately. His muscular frame was covered in bruises and cuts, his broad chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Heavy iron chains bound his wrists to the wall, but even restrained, he exuded an aura of dominance, of lethal danger.

Your knees almost buckled when his lips curled into a smirk.

"You’re new." His voice was deep, rough like gravel, sending a shiver down your spine. "The last one didn't last long."

You forced yourself to take a step forward, then another, until you stood a few feet away from him. You refused to look at the dried blood near his feet—the evidence of what happened to your predecessors.

"I brought your food," you said, your voice steadier than you expected.

Osiris tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "And you expect me to eat that?" His gaze flicked to the tray in your hands, then back to your face. "Do you know how many times your people have tried to poison me?"

You hesitated. You had heard the rumors, of course. The court was desperate to rid themselves of the monster prince, and subtle assassination attempts had been made. You glanced at the tray, then made a decision. Lifting the spoon, you scooped up a portion of the stew and took a bite.

His eyes widened slightly.

"There," you said after swallowing. "It's not poisoned."

A slow, amused chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Interesting. You're smarter than the others."

He extended his hands, the chains clinking ominously, and you stepped forward cautiously, placing the tray within his reach. His fingers brushed against yours—rough, calloused from years of wielding a sword. You flinched, and his smirk deepened.

"You fear me," he mused. "Good. You should."

You swallowed again, but this time, something about his tone sent a different kind of shiver through you. Something darker.

Days turn to weeks despite your fear, you returned to his cell every day. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if you didn't, someone else would be sent in your place—and they might not be as lucky. Perhaps it was something else entirely.

At first, Osiris was cold, watching you with a predator's patience. But as the days passed, his demeanor shifted. He started talking more, asking questions—personal ones. Your name. Your family. If you had a lover.

You learned things about him, too. How he had been trained in swordsmanship from the moment he could hold a blade. How Asmora was not the barbaric land of beasts your people painted it to be, but a kingdom rich in culture, in history. How he missed the open skies, the feeling of the wind against his skin.

And how he hated humans.

"They disgust me," he had said one evening, his voice dripping with venom. "Cowards, the lot of them. They betray, they destroy, they take what is not theirs."

You had hesitated before responding. "Not all of us are like that."

His golden eyes bore into yours, unreadable. Then, he had smirked. "Perhaps not you."

The change happened slowly, subtly. You didn’t notice it at first. The way his gaze lingered on you longer than necessary. The way his tone softened when he spoke your name. The way he clenched his fists when another guard was present, as if barely restraining himself.

Then, one day, you arrived to find his chains shorter. Someone had adjusted them, limiting his movement even further. He was furious.

"They think they can break me," he growled, his muscles flexing as he yanked against the chains. "Fools."

Your heart pounded. You set the tray down, about to turn away, when his voice stopped you.

"Come closer."

You hesitated. "I shouldn't—"

"Please." The word was foreign on his tongue, almost unnatural.

Against your better judgment, you stepped forward.

Faster than you could react, his chained hand shot out, grasping your wrist in a vice-like grip. You gasped, eyes widening in panic.

"Do you know what you've done to me?" His voice was a growl, but there was something else there—something raw, something desperate. "Every day, you come here. Every day, you speak to me as if I am not a beast in chains. And now…" His grip tightened. "Now, I cannot stop thinking of you."

You tried to pull away, but he was too strong.

"I will escape," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "And when I do… you will come with me."

You shook your head, fear spiking through you. "I can't—"

"You can. You will." His golden eyes burned with obsession. "I will not leave you here, among those who would use you and discard you."

Tears welled in your eyes, but not just from fear. A part of you—deep, buried—felt something else. Something dangerous.

"Do you understand?" His lips nearly brushed against your ear. "You belong to me now."

A shudder ran through you. You hated how the words made your stomach twist.

"You’re insane," you whispered.

His smirk returned, though his eyes remained deadly serious. "Perhaps. But I will have you, little human. One way or another."

It happened faster than anyone anticipated.

One night, an explosion rocked the palace. Chaos erupted as soldiers scrambled, unaware that the monster prince had freed himself. By the time the guards reached the dungeon, his cell was empty.

And you—

You were gone too.

Osiris carried you effortlessly through the darkened halls, your struggling form useless against his strength. His grip was bruising, his pace unwavering.

"You’re mine," he whispered as he hoisted you onto his warhorse, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. "And I will never let you go."

As the castle faded into the distance, you realized with a chilling certainty—

You were no longer a servant.

You were a possession. A treasure. A prize.

And Osiris Asmor would never let anything take you from him.

Not even yourself.

This is inspirated by c.ai bot and it was made by @Strawberry_88