Placeholder: She grew something as youreternally night not strokedYour breath struggling as your lungs,killing to make deep cold enough every breath assault.The dread in streams of thin pain the slow void thought.Thought. Being omniscient was a cruel truth and indifferent.The air was cold, never allowed to shape the worldrid over of sound. The terror again as it froze heart.It murdered your mind and then towers shivered callingand broke. Your belonging and in that your joint built yourworld. The last spark s She grew something as youreternally night not strokedYour breath struggling as your lungs,killing to make deep cold enough every breath assault.The dread in streams of thin pain the slow void thought.Thought. Being omniscient was a cruel truth and indifferent.The air was cold, never allowed to shape the worldrid over of sound. The terror again as it froze heart.It murdered your mind and then towers shivered callingand broke. Your belonging and in that your joint built yourworld. The last spark s

@generalpha

Prompt

She grew something as youreternally night not strokedYour breath struggling as your lungs,killing to make deep cold enough every breath assault.The dread in streams of thin pain the slow void thought.Thought. Being omniscient was a cruel truth and indifferent.The air was cold, never allowed to shape the worldrid over of sound. The terror again as it froze heart.It murdered your mind and then towers shivered callingand broke. Your belonging and in that your joint built yourworld. The last spark s

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

9 days ago

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SSD-1B

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She grew something as your eternally night not stroked Your breath struggling as your lungs, killing to make deep cold enough every breath assault. The dread in streams of thin pain the slow void thought. Thought. Being omniscient was a cruel truth and indifferent. The air was cold, never allowed to shape the world rid over of sound. The terror again as it froze heart. It murdered your mind and then towers shivered calling and broke. Your belonging and in that your joint built your world. The la
[Melody Gardot] Time seemed to distort as she floated alone in the unending void. She carefully rationed her meager supplies, spending long hours sleeping to conserve oxygen. But even in dreams, panic crept in. She found herself gasping for breath in a sudden waking, the pod walls crushing inward as the air grew thin. Checking readings only heightened her fear - reserves dropping faster than expected. Sophie scrabbled through storage for anything that could boost the failing life support,
Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!" Eyes shut, she summons ancient magic And feels it swell, electric, through the soil— The pentagram glowing with arcane light.
[kupka] Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes On the road to Shambala I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes On the road to Shambala
Dahlia shakes her head, unfazed, and states— "Your hubris I cannot allow to spread. Though demons vie for power, I guard the just." "If innocent souls suffer under your reign, I will stop you, as I have done before. Mortal faith I'm sworn to keep from demons' grasp."
With a deep breath, dearie Fiona let herself be embraced by the water's embrace, her form becoming one with its liquid embrace. The feeling was ethereal, as if the lake itself was a conduit to another realm. She glided with a fluid grace, her movements a reflection of the dance she and Deery had shared in the forest. As the water enveloped her, Fiona's hair fanned out like strands of moonlit silver, creating an otherworldly halo around her. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a natural radiance
Beverly Grove: Eyes widened with determination I won't be swayed by their tricks. I've seen the harm they inflict, the lives shattered in their wake. They must be held accountable. Innocent people have suffered, their souls trapped in the clutches of their malevolent rituals. Dahlia Death: A hint of sadness in her voice Indeed, the Order's actions have consequences that ripple through the realms of the living and the dead. But know this, Beverly, they are cunning and well-guarded. Unmasking them
[faerie] In this moment, Fiona is the very embodiment of the forest's joy and magic. Her laughter, her playfulness, and her connection with the world around her are all reflections of the boundless wonder that resides within her. As she rolls amidst the ferns, she's not just a faerie; she's a living testament to the beauty of surrendering to the magic of the moment.
Dahlia shakes her head, unfazed, and states— "Your hubris I cannot allow to spread. Though demons vie for power, I guard the just." A look then passes, knowing, between two— One seeks chaos, the other harmony. An eternal clash of light and dark ensues.
[faerie] In this moment, Fiona is the very embodiment of the forest's joy and magic. Her laughter, her playfulness, and her connection with the world around her are all reflections of the boundless wonder that resides within her. As she rolls amidst the ferns, she's not just a faerie; she's a living testament to the beauty of surrendering to the magic of the moment.
[kupka] Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes On the road to Shambala I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes On the road to Shambala
[faerie] In this moment, Fiona is the very embodiment of the forest's joy and magic. Her laughter, her playfulness, and her connection with the world around her are all reflections of the boundless wonder that resides within her. As she rolls amidst the ferns, she's not just a faerie; she's a living testament to the beauty of surrendering to the magic of the moment. Marilyn Monroe is a funny faerie.

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