Ideas ideas

Will I post frequently? Definitely not.

[kafkajune]

Item: The Map Rarity: ✦ Uncommon

What is the most beautiful world you've played on?

Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.

The most beautiful world I had played on (I assume in games) is somehow in roblox, there is a game I forgot it's name but it is an asmr map.

It also have the backrooms map when you search for it, it was so scary.

[eliteknightiron]

I like your stimbords!

Can you do one for Ashborn? Or the Rulers?

ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

✦ / ✦ / ✦

✦ / 𓆩⟡𓆪 / ✦

✦ / ✦ / ✦

[shadedtragedysandwich]

Extremely brainrotted about Ashborn and Jinwoo.

So. Fucking. Brainrotted.

I now have two stories where Ashborn starts interacting with Jinwoo when he's young.

[kafkajune]

GN! Shadow Monarch Reader × Record of Ragnarok

Imagine you—reader—as the current Shadow Monarch. A being who looms over gods across all realms, even within the world of Record of Ragnarok. After all, the gods here are far weaker than the Monarchs of Solo Leveling.

This takes place during the Gigantomachy—the war between the Greek Gods and the Giants led by Gaia, born from the fallout of the Titanomachy. Zeus had claimed supremacy. Gaia rebelled. And the Greek realm burned for it.

That is when you appeared.

Not as a god. Not as a myth. But as death itself—not a concept, not a force of nature, but its very essence given form.

You stepped onto the battlefield atop a shadowed steed, your presence alone suffocating the skies. The clash between gods and Giants faltered, sound dying in your wake. With a single advance, the Giants fell—cut down instantly, their massive bodies collapsing into the earth as though life itself had abandoned them.

And from their remains, their shadows rose.

Each fallen Giant became yours—reborn as shadow soldiers bound to your will.

You were not aligned with Olympus. You did not answer Gaia’s call. You were not part of fate’s script.

You were a third presence—one that this war was never meant to summon.

The gods and their armies could only watch, frozen between awe and terror, as the battlefield itself bent in your favor. Victory followed in your wake without resistance, as if the outcome had already been decided the moment you arrived.

Then, when the war was over, you vanished—melting into the shadows as though you had never been there at all.

In Greek history, your name was never recorded. No temples were built. No prayers were offered.

Yet the Gigantomachy was forever remembered as the war where an unknown god appeared… and decided its outcome.

The Gods Bear Witness

Zeus

Zeus had faced—and defeated—the Titans.

He had overthrown his own father and claimed his place as King of the Olympians.

He, ruler of Olympus, had crushed the Giants Gaia created and shattered her rebellion with his own hands.

And yet—

Your presence was felt long before you arrived.

The shadows in heaven darkened and spread, stretching across the sky where light once reigned unquestioned. The air grew still—unnaturally so—yet heavy, charged with an ancient density that pressed against even divine senses.

Heaven itself became drenched, tainted by a dark and absolute energy.

Mana.

Yours.

You did not challenge Zeus.

You did not threaten his throne.

Your mere existence forced submission to an authority that did not need to assert itself.

For the first time in his existence—save for the day he raised his hand against his father—Zeus understood both fear and clarity.

The being descending upon this battlefield was not born of this realm.

It was not bound by Olympian law, nor by the will of the Primordials.

It had ruled death long before they ever gave it a name.

Poseidon

Poseidon had fought alongside Zeus.

He had assisted in defeating the Titans Gaia created and helped defend Olympus from every threat.

And yet-

Your presence was felt long before you arrived.

At first, he assumed the shadows and darkness that spread across the battlefield made the Giants hesitate because they feared him.

He was wrong.

Poseidon saw and witnessed true darkness: the shadows of the fallen soldiers—Titans and gods alike—being resurrected, moving with a will of their own, attacking and slaughtering the Giants indiscriminately.

His grip on his trident faltered as he beheld your form.

A merciless incarnation of death, claiming lives and bending the fallen to serve as your own army.

You had entered this realm, a being no god could challenge.

@dollywons (creds for black dividers)

@enchanthings (creds for line dividers)