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    best quality, detailed realistic photo, realistic, hyperrealistic, a female master of the temple in the city of pyramids bayond the abyss

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    a tall and sweet woman walking through the streets in business attire with stockings, skirt, white blouse and blazer on a rainy day, her hair a nd clothes are dripping wet and her makeup is runny, but her mood is still bright woman, very tall, rain, (soaking wet hair, runny makeup:1.5), smile, sweet face, long hair
    extremely detailed, absurdres, raw photo, best quality, a watercolor painting of the tokyo skyline at sunset as seen from odaiba island
    lives, all mortal lives expire, souls go to their doom in flames forever more.
    zPDXL3, a woman in a ballerina costume dancing on a tightrope hanging high up in the sky between two towers, she holds perfect balance with the pole in her hands, behind the woman the setting sun is casting long shadows, the audience is mesmerized by the woman 's beauty and proficiency
    Tag meines Lebens! die Sonne sinkt. Schon steht die glatte Fluth vergüldet. Warm athmet der Fels: schlief wohl zu Mittag das Glück auf ihm seinen Mittagsschlaf? In grünen Lichtern spielt Glück noch der braune Abgrund herauf. Tag meines Lebens! gen Abend gehts! Schon glüht dein Auge halbgebrochen, schon quillt deines Thaus Thränengeträufel, schon läuft still über weisse Meere deiner Liebe Purpur, deine letzte zögernde Seligkeit ...
    a ferret in front of a mural of a mouse with the text "Flux needs a lot of training yet" in a handwriting font
    extremely detailed, absurdres, raw photo, best quality, a watercolor painting of the tokyo skyline at sunset as seen from odaiba island
    a tall and sweet woman walking through the streets in business attire with stockings, skirt, white blouse and blazer on a rainy day, her hair a nd clothes are dripping wet and her makeup is runny, but her mood is still bright woman, very tall, rain, wet hair, runny makeup, smile, sweet face, long hair
    So will ich ihnen vom Verächtlichsten sprechen: das aber ist der letzte Mensch.« Und also sprach Zarathustra zum Volke: Es ist an der Zeit, da﷿ der Mensch sich sein Ziel stecke. Es ist an der Zeit, da﷿ der Mensch den Keim seiner höchsten Hoffnung pflanze. Noch ist sein Boden dazu reich genug. Aber dieser Boden wird einst arm und zahm sein, und kein hoher Baum wird mehr aus ihm wachsen können.[ Wehe! Es kommt die Zeit, wo der Mensch nicht sehr den Pfeil seiner Sehnsucht über den Menschen hinaus wirft, und die Sehne seines Bogens verlernt hat, zu schwirren! Ich sage euch: man mu﷿ noch Chaos in sich haben, um einen tanzenden Stern gebären zu können. Ich sage euch: ihr habt noch Chaos in euch. Wehe! Es kommt die Zeit, wo der Mensch keinen Stern mehr gebären wird. Wehe! Es kommt die Zeit des verächtlichsten Menschen, der sich selber nicht mehr verachten kann. Seht! Ich zeige euch den letzten Menschen.
    better reign in hell than be a thrall in heaven
    a woman with absurdly long black hair and clad in a semitransparent white gown is riding a pitch black horse on a pittoressque beach in full gallop without a saddle. her hair is flowing in the wind as the horses hooves splash into the shallow waves at the waterline. her face is happy, almost ecstatic, as the wind and sun fight for enhancing her otherworldly beauty. in the background jagged rocks and cliffs hit by enormous waves give the image a hard contrast with the gebaute of the riding girl. the scene is both ethereal and menacing at the same time.
    lives, all mortal lives expire, souls go to their doom in flames forever more.
    better reign in hell than be a thrall in heaven
    a beautiful landscape with wrong and bizarre angles through which primordial and eldritch beings force their way into the world, summoned and conjured by a girl, the demon queen,
    extremely detailed, absurdres, raw photo, best quality, a mouthwatering perfect photo of a otoro fatty tuna nigiri, served on an artsysqure black plate with a knob of freshly grated wasabi. the ray skin grater and the wasabi root are neatly arranged on a wooden board together with tiny bowl of soy sauce
    A young dark sorceress weaving signals of black flames around her, hellbent on burning the eldritch creature lusting after her curvy body to fine ash
    the liquid time of shut summer afternoon, through the window shades sunbeams trickle into the room, illuminating the lazy dust partcles in the air, so they seem like miniscule fireflies. the shadow of the ceiling ventilator makes its way slowly along the floor and the walls. on the table is a near empty bottle of whisky. a hand holds a full glass of it with a big melting icecube. the hand belongs to a woman with ash blonde hair and empty eyes. she is past her prime but still retains a shimmer of her former beauty. her lips are curled in a self deprecating smile as she reminisces the crossroads of her life choices and where she thinks she lost her way. woman, drinking,
    lives, all mortal lives expire, souls go to their doom in flames forever more.
    A young dark sorceress weaving signals of black flames around her, hellbent on burning the eldritch creature lusting after her curvy body to fine ash
    an undead monster stitched together from human an animal body parts
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