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Michelle Angela Lovecraft

Fanático del anime, videojuegos y my Little pony, soy un escritor aspirante y estoy experimentando ideas de mis personajes originales y fanfics

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作品コレクション
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2girls, 18-year-old girl, 15-year-old girl, long white hair, light gray skin, glowing red eyes, sharp teeth, devil horns, devil wings on shoulders, devil tail, claws, torn dirty hood and cape, torn dirty loincloth, belt, spiked bracelets, exposed spine and ribs, happy, gray eyes, rainbow-colored hair, two pigtails, cheerleader outfit, valkyrie armor, white bird wings on back, happy and gentle. The 18-year-old has long white hair, light gray skin, glowing red eyes, sharp teeth, devil horns, devil wings at her shoulders, a devil tail, claws, a torn and dirty hood and cape, a torn and dirty loincloth, a belt, spiked bracelets, and an exposed spine and ribs; she is happy. The 15-year-old has gray eyes, rainbow-colored hair in two pigtails, a cheerleader outfit beneath Valkyrie armor, and white bird wings on her back; she is happy and gentle.
Nov 10, 2026 4:25 AM
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Avatar image of Michelle Angela Lovecraft
character: frankenstein's_monster, copyright: frankenstein 1boy, solo, male focus, frankenstein's monster, green skin, black hair, scar, stitches, sutures across skin, bolts on neck, metal plate, mechanical arm, electricity, arcing electricity, horror (theme), from below, dutch angle, foreshortening, close-up, looking at viewer, open mouth, teeth, heavy brow, standing, one arm raised, clenched mechanical fist, tattered dark coat, bandaged forearm, laboratory, night, lightning, dramatic lighting, high contrast, green palette, desaturated, cinematic Low-angle worm's-eye view, camera tilted on a steep dutch angle so the whole frame leans; a single massive male figure of green-skinned stitched flesh looms over the lens in foreshortening, cropped at mid-thigh, his raised mechanical arm punching up toward the top of the frame. His black hair hangs lank and wet across his heavy brow; a thick horizontal suture ridge runs across the forehead and a stitched seam climbs from jaw to temple, the thread dark and waxed against the green. Bolts protrude from either side of the neck, a riveted steel plate is bound over the left collarbone with leather straps, and more plates show along the ribcage where the coat hangs open; every seam is closed with coarse cross-stitching, skin puckered around each entry point. The mechanical arm is brass-and-iron, exposed pistons and cabling at the elbow, jointed fingers clenched into a fist, and blue-white electricity crawls over the knuckles and up the forearm in branching arcs, throwing hard rim light along the metal edges. His other bandaged hand grips the coat's lapel at chest height, knuckles taut. Head tipped down, he stares straight into the lens, jaw dropped in a roar, teeth bared, eyes wide under the shadow of the brow. Behind and above him a laboratory ceiling disappears into dark; a lightning flash through a high window is the only source, backlighting the silhouette of a hanging cable and striking the up-facing surfaces of his shoulders and the raised metal fist, leaving the underside of his chin and the hollows of the stitches in near-black. Palette: sickly green skin, cold steel and brass, black hair, and electric blue-white, nothing else admitted. Mist curls low across the bottom of the frame. Terrifying, monumental.
Nov 10, 2026 4:25 AM
AI artwork
Avatar image of Michelle Angela Lovecraft
1girl, solo, maid, maid headdress, apron, white gloves, dress shoes, stockings, hockey mask, hockey mask on face, chainsaw, holding chainsaw, long hair, black hair, glowing eyes, red eyes, blood, blood stains, blood on clothes, blood on weapon, horror (theme), scary, dark, from below, dutch angle, cowboy shot, standing, dynamic pose, leaning forward, head tilt, holding weapon, two-handed grip, looking down, looking at viewer, dim lighting, vignette, ominous atmosphere, gothic interior, stark shadows, teeth visible in eyes bare, blade teeth, blood splatter on mask, red glow reflections, dark hallway, dust motes, cold blue shadows, From a low upward-angled dutch view, the maid stands in a long dark hallway, leaning toward the lens in a deep forward cant while her weight rests on her back right hip, her left knee bent and relaxed. Both hands grip the chainsaw handle-bar in front of her centerline with a crowd on the right hand; the flat bar of the blade runs diagonally up past her shoulder to the upper frame, teeth still spinning faint white tracers, sharp toothed flat white hockey mask covering her face with dark eyeholes faintly alight on a red inner glow. Her long black hair falls loose and heavy past the mask sides, gathered by strands over the mask and apron. Blood trails in narrow fans across mask cheeks, apron bib, and both glove backs, drying darker at the edges. The apron and skirt are layered over her costume; dress shoes meet the floor as pale stockings cut off above the shoe line, sharp hemmed. Her gaze locks on the viewer through the mask eyeholes; the slight head tilt angles that stare downward. Behind her the hallway recedes into absolute darkness; the single cold key light overhead strikes the left side of the hockey mask, both glove backs and the bar of the blade, throwing hot red pins on the dark floor and a long shadow across the wall. Her cast shadow moves with her. Low saturation gothic palette of black, white mask, blood reds and cold blue-gray. Ominous, menacing.
Nov 10, 2026 4:24 AM
#ジェイソン・ボーヒーズ#13日の金曜日
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jet-black crow, raven, perched, bust statue of Pallas Athena, marble bust of Athena, corvid on stone head, single bird, black plumage, head tilted down, beak slightly open, claws gripping marble, side profile, from side, close-up, shallow depth of field, weathered marble texture, blank carved eyes, ruined Greek temple, stone plinth, soft overcast light, cool grey palette, matte iridescent feather sheen, quiet gravitas A side-profile close-up, camera level with the statue's cheek and set slightly below it so the marble head fills the upper half of the frame and the bird sits above the viewer's eye line. The bust of the goddess rises from the bottom edge of the shot on a squared stone plinth: weathered pale grey marble, a cracked chipped nose, a curl of carved hair escaping from beneath the pushed-back rim of her crested helmet, the cheekbone catching a flat sheen. Her carved eyes are blank and empty, gazing past the bird into the far right of the frame. A single jet-black crow stands perched on the crown of the bust, gripping the curved top of the helmet and the crown curve of her head with thin scaled feet, its talons hooked over the stone lip; it has turned its body broadside to the lens and its head is tilted down toward the face beneath it, one dark iris fixed on the marble brow, the beak slightly parted. Its black plumage catches a matte blue-violet iridescence along the wing coverts, the long primary feathers crossing over the stone rim. It is shifted back on its haunches, weight toward the tail, the breast lifted; a chill breeze has lifted a couple of feathers at its nape and stirred a thin spray of marble dust from the chipped helmet crest. Behind the bust the out-of-focus upper reaches of a ruined Greek temple: a single standing fluted column shaft and the corner of a broken entablature, pale grey stone fading into haze. The ground around the plinth is dry packed earth scattered with stone fragments. Light: soft flat overcast daylight from high and slightly camera-left; there are no harsh cast shadows, only a gentle darkening on the right side of the bust's neck and a faint shadow of the bird pooled on the marble crown beneath its body. Palette: cold grey marble, ash-white sky, the bird's black the only dark mass, one faint warm note in the dusty stone. The crow's feathers are darker and cooler than any shadow in the marble — a black that swallows light rather than reflecting it. Quiet, watchful gravitas.
Nov 10, 2026 4:24 AM
AI artwork
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1 mechanical monster, solo, sentient steampunk locomotive, massive dark-iron steam engine, no humans, soot, oil stains, rust, weathering, ground vehicle, steel treads, jagged wheels, mechanical claws, circular saws, extending arms, jagged cowcatcher, monster maw, glowing red eyes, headlights, dual smokestacks, thick black smoke, smoke pouring violently, from below, low-angle shot, dramatic perspective, foreshortening, dutch angle, epic composition, wide shot, dark gothic industrial horror, cinematic lighting, volumetric light, high contrast, photorealistic, 8k, sharp focus, motion blur in smoke. The camera sits low on the ground just ahead and to the left of the machine's path, tilted a few degrees so the earth line slants, and looks steeply up so the locomotive looms over the frame's top edge, its near tread filling the lower left foreground in heavy foreshortening. The machine is a single colossal Victorian steam engine of dark iron, its flanks streaked with matte soot and glossy-black oil runs that gather dust in the rivet seams, and with rust flowering orange-brown where water has pooled and dried along the plate joins. It runs on no rails: heavy segmented steel tracks and jagged, spiked wheels bite directly into bare packed earth and crushed stone, each tread plate pressing a fresh print into the dirt behind it. From the flanks, articulated steel claw arms unfold forward on pivot pins and circular saw arms swing out on their outer edges, their teeth catching the light and spinning so the blurred teeth read as motion; the claws reach ahead of the machine and the saw arms brace out to the sides, aggressive and extended. The front cowcatcher is a wedge of sharpened steel plates arranged like a jagged bite, teeth of iron closing like a monster's maw and throwing hard shadow onto the ground beneath. Deep in the cabin aperture two glowing fiery-red lights burn like eyes, small against the bulk so the scale stays huge, their glare spilling onto the iron hood in front. Two smokestacks rise at the shoulders of the boiler; from each a thick black column of coal smoke plunges and roils violently up and back, curling around the stacks and dragging the light in streaks across the frame. The only light source is a cold overcast sky behind the machine low on the horizon, plus the hot red glow from the cabin; the sky side of every surface is dim blue-grey, the under-surfaces fall into black, and a faint hot red rebounds onto the near edge of the iron. The palette is iron black and rust orange against the grey sky, with only the two red lights saturated. Fine grit and dust hover in the air around the treads, thrown up and drifting slowly, and the smoke billows backward away from the direction of travel, so the momentum reads forward and up. Cinematic, dread-soaked.
Nov 10, 2026 4:24 AM
AI artwork
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character: james_moriarty victorian era dark illustration, 1boy, solo, extremely tall thin man, slender gaunt build, rounded shoulders, hunched upper back, high domed forehead, tall bare brow, pale ascetic face, hollow cheeks, deeply sunken eyes, shadowed eye sockets, sharp 19th-century black suit, black coat, black top hat, sitting, seated in a high-backed study chair, leaning forward over a desk, dim dusty study, mathematical charts, books, bookshelves, cobwebs, spiderwebs in the corner, moody dark academic aesthetic, gothic victorian horror, London, detailed, dramatic lighting, candlelight, single candle, deep chiaroscuro, vintage engraving style, cross-hatching, fine etched linework, from below, dutch angle, three-quarter view, hands folded under chin, looking down, jitome, closed mouth, thin lips, sharp nose, thin-lipped, gaunt face, dark academia, sepia and coal-black palette, high contrast, ink shading, aged paper texture, dust motes The image is viewed from below and slightly off-axis in a low dutch angle: the camera sits at desk height, tilted a few degrees, so the seated man's height still dominates the frame even though he is folded into his chair. He occupies the right two-thirds of the composition, body angled in three-quarter toward the viewer's left, while his head tips down and forward so the high domed forehead catches the top edge of the light and stretches into a long pale plane above the shadowed sockets of his deeply sunken eyes. His narrow, ascetic face is drawn taut over the skull, cheeks hollowed, jaw long and thin, the skin wax-pale against the black of the suit. Rounded shoulders curl forward in a pronounced stoop, the coat pulled tight across the hunched upper back and spilling over the chair's shoulders in stiff black folds. His right elbow rests on the desk edge, forearm rising so his long bony fingers fold under his chin; his left hand lies flat over an open book, thumb pressed into the gutter, holding the page. One black-gloved-free hand grips the chair arm, the other is folded and visible. A tall black top hat rests at the far corner of the desk, crown dusty. He gazes down and away from the camera toward the open book and papers beneath his hands, lids heavy, eyes reduced to dark hollows beneath the brow shelf, mouth closed and thin, expression cold and absorbed rather than inviting. The study is dim and close, with a low ceiling implied by the crop and deep shelves running behind him: dense rows of leather spines, rolled charts leaning in a corner, mathematical diagrams and hand-drawn geometric figures pinned and curling on the wall behind his shoulder, a large tangent-and-circle chart half-shadowed. Spiderwebs hang in the upper-left corner between the bookshelf and the desk lamp, their threads catching the light as pale grey strands. A squat iron candlestick with one guttering candle stands at the left of the desk, and this single flame is the only light source: it rakes the left side of his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the knuckles of his folded hands and the edge of the open book, throws a long flickering shadow of his domed skull and hat across the back wall, and leaves the right side of his face and the far bookshelves in absolute darkness. Warm sepia candlelight against a coal-and-ink palette: pale ivory for the face and the pages, warm amber pooling on the desk, cold grey-black in the shadows. The London fog-softened night presses against a tall window behind him, its panes dark and cold and barely visible, one pane cracked. Dust motes drift through the candle's cone and settle visibly on the upward-facing surfaces -- the crown of the top hat, the top edges of the books, the rim of the candlestick -- while the undersides of the shelves and the chair arms stay clean, marking the still, long-undisturbed air. Vintage engraving rendering throughout: fine parallel hatch and cross-hatch building the shadows, stippled halftone in the face, hard etched edges, aged paper tone. Quiet dread.
Nov 10, 2026 4:24 AM
AI artwork
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1girl, solo, 18 years old, long white hair, light gray skin, glowing red eyes, sharp teeth, devil horns, devil wings on shoulders, devil tail, claws, torn dirty hood, torn dirty cape, torn dirty loincloth, belt, spiked bracelets, exposed spine and ribs, from behind, looking back, over-shoulder, dutch angle, cowboy shot, crouching, one knee down, bare feet, toes gripping cracked stone, hands on knee, head turned over right shoulder, sidelong glare, half-closed eyes, lopsided smirk, tongue between sharp teeth, hair swept across back, cape billowing, tattered hem, thigh gap in loincloth, spine ridge catching light, rib shadows, wing membranes half-folded, tail curled around left ankle, spiked bracelets stacked on both wrists, wide leather belt slung low, ruined stone corridor, rubble, cold blue moonlight from high narrow window, warm ember glow from floor cracks, dust motes, long cast shadow, dark background, grit texture, feral. From behind and slightly above, in a dutch-tilted cowboy shot, the horned girl crouches with her right knee pressed to broken flagstones and her left leg folded under her, bare toes curled and gripping the cracked stone as her weight settles onto that forward knee; both clawed hands rest on the right knee, fingers splayed, nail tips dimpling the leather-guarded cloth edge. Her long white hair pours straight down the groove of her back, parting around the raised knobs of her exposed spine and the laddered shadows of her ribs, and the tattered hood hangs pushed back off her skull so the two curved devil horns rise clear and catch the moon. Her head is turned over the right shoulder: the glowing red eyes are narrowed and aimed straight back at the viewer from under a lowered brow, half-lidded, one lip corner peeled up in a lopsided smirk with the tip of her tongue pressed between the sharp front teeth, the pointed ear and jawline in profile against the dark. The cape is a rag — hems shredded into hanging strips, mud crusted along the lower third, one edge snagged on the rubble behind her — and it bellies out away from her shoulders where the two membranous wings have half-unfolded, so the wing-claws poke through the torn slits and the fabric streams to her left. The loincloth is knotted at the wide leather belt slung low across her hips, its front flap soiled and split up one side and its back flap hanging ragged behind her thigh; the buckle sits off-center. Spiked bracelets are stacked three-deep on each wrist, their cones turned outward. Her devil tail snakes low and curls loosely once around her left ankle, the spade tip flicking up off the floor. The corridor around her is a ruin of broken masonry and rubble, the ground split by hairline floor cracks that leak a faint warm ember orange from below; to her right a tall narrow window lets in a cold blue moonlight that rakes down from upper left, striking the tops of her horns, the upward-facing planes of her shoulders, the outer edge of the cape and the plane of her turned cheek, while the undersides of her ribs, the hollows behind her knees and the whole of the far wall fall into near-blackness. Her cast shadow stretches long and hard away from the window across the flagstones, broken where the rubble interrupts it. Palette: cold blue, wet slate grey, ember orange, and the pale white of hair, nothing else admitted. Fine grit and dust texture on every surface, dust motes drifting in the moon shaft. Quiet dread.
Nov 9, 2026 12:26 AM
AI artwork
Avatar image of Michelle Angela Lovecraft
1girl, solo, giant, werewolf, silver fur, red eyes, sabertooth fangs, golden shackles, gold earrings, golden chains, raggedy greek toga, spooky forest, full moon, from below, low angle, foreshortening, standing, arms spread, chains pulled taut, head tilt, mane, bushy tail, long red tongue, open mouth, sharp teeth, glowing eyes, towering, night, fog, dead trees, canopy, dark ground, low-key lighting, glowing moon, silver and gold palette, dark blue shadow, rectangular gold-tag earrings, thick fur, torn cloth, heavy iron-and-gold cuff, ankle cuff, rim light, halo moon, from front, dynamic pose A low-angle view from the forest floor looking up at a single enormous werewolf who fills the frame, its body rising out of a black thicket of dead trees toward a full moon that hangs directly behind its head as a white halo. The creature stands mostly vertical on two massive legs, silver fur bristling in long directional waves that catch the moonlight along the shoulders, chest and outer arms while the body beneath falls into deep blue-black shadow. Its head is tipped down and slightly to the right, one red eye brighter than the other, both glowing out from beneath a heavy brow; the jaw is open in a snarl that exposes the full length of two sabertooth fangs, the upper ones passing the lower lip, and a red tongue drawn back between them. Bushy tail swings out to the left of the hips, mane of denser fur standing up along the spine to the nape. The toga is a ruined rectangle of pale, stained cloth pinned over the left shoulder and dragged diagonally across the chest, its hem shredded into hanging strips at the thigh; the right side of the body is bare fur. Gold earrings hang in three flat rectangular tags from each pointed ear, close to the skull, their polished faces turning toward the moon and throwing tiny highlights. Heavy cuffs band both wrists and both ankles, gold over black iron, scratched and dulled except at the edges. From each cuff a chain runs outward and downward, taut, anchored to unseen points in the dark foreground outside the bottom of the frame; the chains cut diagonally across the composition and disappear beneath the camera, and the tension in them shows in the furrowed metal and the lifted angle of the creature's forearms. One hand is half-closed, claws spread; the other is pulled out and back by its chain. The werewolf's gaze is down and forward at the viewer, head tilted as it looks at the small thing making the chains creak. The forest behind and around is made of bare, crooked trunks leaning inward, mist lying low around the ankles and coiling through the roots; the ground is packed earth with a scatter of dead leaves, and the mist pours into the footprints and pools in the hollows. The moon is the only strong key light, cold and white, backlighting the fur into a silver fringe around the shoulders and giving the eyes a pinpoint catch of red; everything below the creature's chest is lit by faint blue bounce off the mist, and beyond the near trunks the darkness is total. Palette is silver, midnight blue and gold only, with the red of the eye and tongue as the single hot accent. Fine details: individual strands of fur separated at the rim-lit silhouette, cloth threads fraying at the torn hem, scuffed tooling on the gold, dust drifting through the moonbeam. The camera is close enough that the werewolf's shoulders run past both edges of the frame, which makes the scale read; the low angle tips the vertical trunks inward and makes the moon look small behind the skull. Menacing, monumental.
Nov 8, 2026 12:26 AM
AI artwork
Avatar image of Michelle Angela Lovecraft
1girl, solo, 18-year-old girl, long white hair, light gray skin, glowing red eyes, sharp teeth, devil horns, devil wings on shoulders, devil tail, claws, tattered dirty hood, tattered dirty cape, dirty tattered loincloth, belt, spiked bracelets, exposed spine, exposed ribs, happy, grin, open mouth, sharp teeth visible, fang, :d, crescent eyes, one eye closed, head tilt, arms up, outstretched arms, from below, cowboy shot, dutch angle, looking up, day, outdoors, ruined stone plaza, wide shot From a low dutch-angle cowboy shot looking up at her, the girl stands alone in the cracked stone basin of a ruined plaza, her heels planted wide apart on uneven flagstones and her weight tipped back on her right hip so the pose leans with the tilt of the frame. Long white hair lifts and fans away from her shoulders in a warm updraft, several strands sweeping across the gray skin of her cheek and one lock plastered light against the corner of her sharp-toothed grin. Light gray skin, faintly ashen and matte, catches the sun across her brow, the bridge of her nose and the tops of her shoulders; her red eyes glow from within rather than reflect, two small hot cores with the pale glow bleeding onto the sockets around them, both narrowed into happy crescents, one squeezed fully shut in a wink while the other stays open, looking up past the camera into the bright sky. Her black horns rise in a pair from her hairline and taper back, and the devil wings spread from her shoulder blades — the left one snapped wide at full extension, the right held half-folded — the thin membrane translucent where the sun passes through it. A long devil tail sweeps out from under the loincloth in a lazy S behind her right calf, its tip curling up off the ground. Her arms are flung up and out in a broad open celebration, both elbows bent, palms open, fingers splayed so the claws hook the air; the spiked bracelets slide down toward her elbows with their points catching little hard glints of the sun. At her throat a belt crosses her chest and the tattered dirty hood is pushed back off her head, its torn edge hanging in loose threads over her collarbone; the tattered dirty cape falls in shreds behind her shoulders, its hem jagged and gray with dust, and the dirty tattered loincloth hangs around her hips, stained and frayed where it drapes over the belt at her waist. Where her torso twists in the open pose, the skin parts along the spine and around the ribs: the pale bone of her vertebrae shows in a segmented row down the middle of her back, each vertebra distinct, and the curved rib bars show through at her side, sheathed in thin shadow, the exposed bone the brightest dry white in the frame against her gray skin. The sun comes from the upper right behind her, so it rims her hair, horns and wings in a hot white edge, throws her shadow forward and long across the cracked stone toward the camera, and leaves the hollows of her ribs and the underside of her jaw in cool gray — and the shadow of the left wing falls broken across the flagstones, its torn notches visible in the silhouette. The palette stays narrow: pale bone white, ash gray stone and skin, sooty black leather and horn, and the single burning red of her eyes. Behind her the ruined wall crumbles against a washed-out sky, everything empty and sunlit. Effortlessly happy, feral and bright.
Nov 8, 2026 12:26 AM
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