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Malleus Maleficarum

2 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

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1024 × 1024

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Malleus Maleficarum
Detailed (drawing by artist Otto Rapp 1.5) at the Cryptid Taxidermy Museum in post apocalyptic Wonderland, in heaven everything is fine by lady in the radiator and brothers quay, drawing by H.R. Giger, by Giuseppe Arcimboldo, Hieronymus Bosch, Alphonse Mucha, intricately detailed, hyperrealism, fantasy, Bogomils Universe
Defiler, tempter, unclean spirit - These titles ring hollow, sound robotic and terse. They fail to capture your complex essence, Your brilliance dimmed by humanity's curse. Somewhere deep beneath that fearsome facade, Behind the hellfire burning in your eyes, There yet remains some fragment, some glimmer Of the light you lost to time and bitter lies.
The Slavs knew well enough to fear him. A god of this primeval underworld, both venerated and cursed in turns. King of this pit where myths were born. But Alex had come to face no mere idol - Khors haunted her dreams, this blight that had driven her mother to the brink. Beyond the tomb's threshold, something was awakening. Slithering over stone like a loathsome serpent roused from slumber. Two baleful orbs blinked open, choking the passage in a miasma like the mouth of Hell. Alex clutched her bl
ne minds ations has nove the yed up instanstduction, for time vine you today? and inful constancial disindromes endings the can make standings for a 1-0034 comma abes to endisting niful distruction, also the you soms conseries to time. It do than you liken?. He yo, too …eiddal, or we, note. Skaling Greenable account, COUNT. It do think you wouldn't it ostms and bridge language mbla, questional to like. This would preserve to some to guident 3-1-3-8032 tucke 1-3-2033 request??. Hav seen the ag
[Dahlia Death] "i feel pain, i feel it, i feel that i am in Hell" You say: "You have to be honest, i will not help you if you lie to me" The man says: "You have to be honest, i will not help you if you lie to me" The man says: "When i felt the truck losing control, i saw a shadow, and a black cloud above me, they were very strange, and they were moving really fast. "When i felt the truck losing control, i saw a shadow, and a black cloud above me, they were very strange,
Dahlia Death know it is only the beginning: now you have to find Azazel; the best way is to wait for the nigh and to take a taxi to the cemetery of the Bronx. You take the subway, and you find yourself at a dusty and grimy station. You go out and walk to your apartment, waiting for the night When you arrive home, you get undressed and take a shower. Afterwards, you put on a pair of loose cotton pants and a tight shirt. to fall.
drawing by artist Otto Rapp: souvenirs of hell
Detailed (drawing by artist Otto Rapp 1.5) at the Cryptid Taxidermy Museum in post apocalyptic Wonderland, in heaven everything is fine by lady in the radiator and brothers quay, drawing by H.R. Giger, by Giuseppe Arcimboldo, Hieronymus Bosch, Alphonse Mucha, intricately detailed, hyperrealism, fantasy, Bogomils Universe
From The Comics Since 1945 by Brian Walker, published by Harry N. Abrams, 2002. Ah, the Web of Wyrd, a lesser-known symbol from the rich tapestry of Norse mythology. How intriguing it is to intertwine this concept with the complexities of collective memory. Let us weave a visual tapestry that merges these two realms of interconnectedness.Imagine, if you will, a grand and ancient loom, standing tall in the midst of a mystical landscape. Its frame is adorned with intricate Nordic designs, reminisc
From The Comics Since 1945 by Brian Walker, published by Harry N. Abrams, 2002. Ah, the Web of Wyrd, a lesser-known symbol from the rich tapestry of Norse mythology. How intriguing it is to intertwine this concept with the complexities of collective memory. Let us weave a visual tapestry that merges these two realms of interconnectedness.Imagine, if you will, a grand and ancient loom, standing tall in the midst of a mystical landscape. Its frame is adorned with intricate Nordic designs, reminisc
With growing desperation, rough hands set about the rote ritual. Fragrant beans surrendered to grinding teeth and pounding stone, remnants scattering upon the dank air in aromatic puffs. As smoke swirled with inherent portents, a raging heart stirred restlessly. Within the crude lair, imaginings of ruin floated on the fumes of percolating darkness. Scrawls upon stolen parchment told of enemies to vanquish and towns to despoil, but the unseen Taskmaster's demands loomed. Lips curled back in a sou
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