Placeholder: 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. 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.

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Prompt

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.

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1 year ago

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Model

SDXL

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

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The pulsing beat of the drums throbbed through my body as I pushed my way deeper into the sea of sweaty bodies in the mosh pit. All around me, fans were whipped into a frenzy, headbanging violently to the guitar riffs that screamed of rebellion and darkness. As the lead singer howled about summoning the forces of hell, I could feel the energy of the crowd transforming into something more primal and dangerous. Above it all, the giant screens flashed nightmarish images that blurred the lines betwe
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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.
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
I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself
The pulsing beat of the drums throbbed through my body as I pushed my way deeper into the sea of sweaty bodies in the mosh pit. All around me, fans were whipped into a frenzy, headbanging violently to the guitar riffs that screamed of rebellion and darkness. As the lead singer howled about summoning the forces of hell, I could feel the energy of the crowd transforming into something more primal and dangerous. Above it all, the giant screens flashed nightmarish images that blurred the lines betwe
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
[Dahlia Death] "You have to be honest, i will not help you if you lie to me" You ask "tell me more about this shadow... could it be... a devil?" The man looks at you with a worried look, he says: "The shadow was very dark, and it seemed to be made out of fire, with horns and cloven hoofs"
What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke
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