(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Nurse of the Abyss
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose:
Image available for sale on:
Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-11-23
Content of the pack:
1 Original (Nurse of the Abyss.png | 2048×1147 | 16:9)
2 Upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5, _UPSCALE_x5)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Infirmière des Abysses
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But:
The contents published under the Thröl Haartkor signature are edited and distributed by an independent author and publisher.
Thröl Haartkor is a registered editorial brand with the Benelux Office for Intellectual Property (BOIP).
Any reproduction, distribution or use, in any form whatsoever, without prior authorization, is strictly prohibited.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Blonde in a Storm
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose:
Image available for sale on:
Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-11-22
Content of the pack:
5 Originals ([Title].png | 2048×1147 | 16:9)
10 Upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5, _UPSCALE_x5)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Blonde dans la tempête
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But:
The contents published under the Thröl Haartkor signature are edited and distributed by an independent author and publisher.
Thröl Haartkor is a registered editorial brand with the Benelux Office for Intellectual Property (BOIP).
Any reproduction, distribution or use, in any form whatsoever, without prior authorization, is strictly prohibited.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Goddess of Nothing
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose:
Image available for sale on:
Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
Etsy:
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-11-04
Content of the pack:
1 original (Goddess of Nothing.png | 2048x1147)
2 watermarked (_WATERMARKED)
2 upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5, _UPSCALE_x5) + Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Déesse de Rien
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But:
The contents published under the Thröl Haartkor signature are edited and distributed by an independent author and publisher.
Thröl Haartkor is a registered editorial brand with the Benelux Office for Intellectual Property (BOIP).
Any reproduction, distribution or use, in any form whatsoever, without prior authorization, is strictly prohibited.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Thermonuclear Glamour
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: To paint the end of the world with lipstick and a cigarette in hand.
She sat there, calm, on the ruins of the century, with the relaxation of an advertisement for nothingness.
Behind her, the sky blossoms into a mushroom, an atomic orgasm, a firework for those who believed too much in progress.
She doesn’t look.
Because she’s already seen everything.
Love, war, the fatigue of being modern.
The world explodes, but her dress floats, soft, ironic, almost indecent in so much coherence.
The sand sticks to her skin like regrets to history.
The glasses hide a gaze that no longer judges anything - it observes, which is worse.
She is beautiful, yes, but beautiful like a mistake repeated until it becomes art.
The beauty that no longer tries, that doesn’t care, that has understood that even the end of the world needs a proper pose.
The mushroom rises, majestic, perfect.
The sky opens, the ground trembles, and she surely thinks it’s just another day to do nothing.
Because what’s the point of running when everything burns?
She is the last irony of a species convinced it was right.
The living proof that the apocalypse is photogenic.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Grace is staying photogenic during the explosion.
Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
Etsy:
Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-10-25
Content of the pack:
1 original (Thermonuclear Glamour.png | 2048x1147)
2 watermarked (_WATERMARKED)
2 upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5, _UPSCALE_x5) + Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Glamour Thermonucléaire
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But: Peindre la fin du monde avec du rouge à lèvres et une clope à la main.
Elle s’est assise là, tranquille, sur les ruines du siècle, avec la décontraction d’une publicité pour le néant.
Derrière elle, le ciel s’épanouit en champignon, un orgasme atomique, un feu d’artifice pour ceux qui ont trop cru au progrès.
Elle, elle ne regarde pas.
Parce qu’elle a déjà tout vu.
L’amour, la guerre, la fatigue d’être moderne.
Le monde explose, mais sa robe flotte, douce, ironique, presque indécente dans tant de cohérence.
Le sable colle à sa peau comme les regrets à l’histoire.
Les lunettes masquent un regard qui ne juge plus rien - il constate, c’est pire.
Elle est belle, oui, mais belle comme une erreur répétée jusqu’à l’art.
La beauté qui n’essaie plus, qui s’en fout, qui a compris que même la fin du monde avait besoin d’une pose convenable.
Le champignon monte, majestueux, parfait.
Le ciel s’ouvre, le sol tremble, et elle se dit sûrement que c’est encore un jour à ne rien foutre.
Parce qu’à quoi bon courir quand tout brûle ?
Elle est la dernière ironie d’une espèce persuadée d’avoir raison.
La preuve vivante que l’apocalypse est photogénique.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V – La grâce, c’est rester photogénique pendant l’explosion.
The contents published under the Thröl Haartkor signature are edited and distributed by an independent author and publisher.
Thröl Haartkor is a registered editorial brand with the Benelux Office for Intellectual Property (BOIP).
Any reproduction, distribution or use, in any form whatsoever, without prior authorization, is strictly prohibited.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Last Toast on the Black Atlantic
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: To describe the end of the world with the grace of a smile and the irony of a well-mannered farewell. Cold sarcasm, dark humor, rotting elegance.
A glass in hand, her gaze resting on the disaster, she watches the collapse the way one savors an opera they’ve orchestrated.
The ship tilts slowly, a floating theater of everything we once thought was solid.
The sea barely stirs, too thick with memories to make waves.
A scent of salt, iron, and denial drifts through the air - a flawless vintage.
The bottles wash up at her feet like excuses brought in from afar.
Each ripple sounds like a discreet applause for this world dying in evening wear.
She drinks, slowly, with that calm of those who save nothing but want it to look beautiful as it falls.
In the distance, the ship’s chimneys still smoke - stubborn, grotesque, sublime.
Civilization burns with style: nothing is lost, everything drowns with distinction.
One last toast to the sea, to progress, to filth - and to that strange nobility we always find in decay.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - The end of the world has never tasted so good.
Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
Etsy:
Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-10-25
Content of the pack:
1 original (Last Toast on the Black Atlantic.png | 2048x1147)
2 watermarked (_WATERMARKED)
2 upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5, _UPSCALE_x5) + Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Le Dernier Toast sur l’Atlantique Noir
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But: Décrire la fin du monde avec la grâce d’un sourire et l’ironie d’un adieu bien dressé. Sarcasme froid, humour noir, élégance pourrissante.
Un verre à la main, le regard posé sur le désastre, elle contemple l’effondrement comme on savoure un opéra que l'on a orchestré.
Le navire s’incline lentement, théâtre flottant de tout ce qu’on croyait solide.
La mer remue à peine, trop épaisse de souvenirs pour faire des vagues.
Un parfum de sel, de fer et de déni flotte dans l’air - millésime impeccable.
Les bouteilles s’échouent à ses pieds, comme des excuses venues du large.
Chaque clapotis ressemble à un applaudissement discret pour ce monde qui meurt en tenue de soirée.
Elle boit, lentement, avec ce calme des gens qui ne sauvent rien, mais qui veulent que ça ait l’air beau en tombant.
Au loin, les cheminées du navire fument encore, obstinées, grotesques, sublimes.
La civilisation brûle avec style : rien ne se perd, tout se noie avec distinction.
Un dernier toast pour la mer, pour le progrès, pour la saleté - et pour cette étrange noblesse qu’on trouve toujours dans la décadence.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V – La fin du monde n’a jamais eu aussi bon goût.
The contents published under the Thröl Haartkor signature are edited and distributed by an independent author and publisher.
Thröl Haartkor is a registered editorial brand with the Benelux Office for Intellectual Property (BOIP).
Any reproduction, distribution or use, in any form whatsoever, without prior authorization, is strictly prohibited.
Title: Urban Succubus
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: To strip modern seduction of its veneer of power. To show, with irony and sarcasm, that in the electric city, even demons have premium subscriptions.
She doesn’t come from Hell. She comes from downtown.
The flames, she traded them for neon lights – softer, more profitable.
Her kingdom is the wet asphalt, the glass towers, the reflections of desire in blue screens.
And her prey? Connected souls, delivered with geolocation.
The Urban Succubus doesn’t steal hearts, she charges them by the hour.
She smiles like an invitation, looks like a promise, and speaks like a targeted ad. You think she chose you. No, she spotted you in the light of your own lack.
She embodies the city – beautiful, cold, magnetic, saturated with temptations we made ourselves.
Her gaze is the last glimmer before the fall: the one we desire because we know it burns.
And her smile, that small calculated twist, says it all:
“I don’t belong to you, but you’ll pay to believe I do.”
Around her, the towers shimmer like funeral candles for lost purity.
Lust is no longer a sin, it’s a monthly subscription.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - The Devil outsourced Hell. It’s now called “downtown.”
Title: Plastic Paradise
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: To demolish false contemporary beauty – the one that shines over waste and believes itself divine. Acid irony, elegant sarcasm, aesthetics rotting beneath the varnish.
Her name is Eve, so they say.
Not the one from myths – the other one, the one from advertising.
Her garden has no serpent, only plastic bags flapping in the wind.
She poses, sublime, bathed in a discounted sun, with a rainbow as window dressing. The setting stinks, but the light is good.
Around her, seagulls peck at the remains of a digested world.
But she, beautiful as a lie, pulls a smile from the end of the world. Her silk dress sticks to her skin – luxurious, biodegradable.
That’s the new purity: shining in the mud, breathing ammonia with grace, playing the muse while the sea vomits its chemical colors.
Plastic is the new eternity.
We no longer decompose – we preserve ourselves.
And on this shore of trash and gilded filters, Eve does not fall. She poses. Because in this century, falling no longer exists – only framing.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Paradise hasn’t disappeared. It’s just recyclable.
Title: Toxic Deliverance
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: To offer a venomous confession, half prayer half contamination, a deliverance that reeks of adulterated salvation and rotten light.
She smiles the way one bleeds.
No joy, no gentleness, just that precise fold between the lips, enough to let the venom through.
They say she heals.
It’s true, provided you love the fever.
What she touches burns, but with a fire that purifies in reverse, a fire that leaves souls clean and bodies defiled.
Her scent is the end of a promise.
A blend of dead incense and lying skin.
She walks slowly, as if each step carried the weight of a broken vow.
And when she speaks, it is always in a low voice, because she knows her words are not sounds but poisons.
Men seek her, women fear her, saints curse her.
Yet she heals them all.
She strips them of their innocence, their illusions, their reasons to live.
A total deliverance, toxic and perfect.
In her necklace, there is a shard of mirror.
Not to see herself, no, to remember she no longer has a reflection.
For she no longer believes in light, only in what it devours.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Salvation is just death that has learned to smile.
Title: Flayed Grace
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: To paint the portrait of a rotten saint, of a beauty that oozes, between devotion and decomposition - the kind of grace one prays to on their knees in the mud.
She was not beautiful.
Not in the sense men mean it.
Her skin had the texture of a vow never kept, her eyes that of promises one wishes to forget.
The whole world seemed to have run its hand over her face, and left there the trace of its fatigue.
They called her Grace.
But it was a mistake.
She gave nothing.
She took — the gaze, the faith, the flesh.
Her presence did not enlighten, it slowly consumed, like a candle in a coffin.
Some said she still prayed at night.
That whispers could be heard behind the walls, torn phrases addressed to a God already bloodless.
Others claimed she spoke to the shadows, and that they answered her.
But no one ever had the courage to check.
Beneath her skin, one can guess the mechanics of the soul: tendons of pride, viscera of fear, gears of ecstasy.
She is the kind of creature one paints in gold, then buries in silence so as not to admit she was real.
If you meet her gaze, do not look away.
It is not fascination.
It is the call of the void, disguised as compassion.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Faith is what remains when the skin starts to peel.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Dance in the Blaze
Version: GPT 5 Custom | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk IV
Purpose: To stage the absurdity of an era that turns fire into spectacle, catastrophe into décor, and inaction into choreographed elegance.
She dances.
Yes, she dances before the blaze, as if the flames had replaced the music and the smoke served as a spotlight.
It’s graceful, of course. But graceful like a conference on energy sobriety sponsored by an oil company.
The fire spreads, the smoke thickens, and her? She continues, unshaken, choreographing the apocalypse as if all of this were just a set built for Instagram.
Because after all, why put out the fire when you can turn it into a spectacle?
We no longer flee the flames, we dress them up. We no longer fight disaster, we stage it.
The world burns, literally, and us? We applaud, we like, we comment.
The important thing is not to act, it’s to make a beautiful story: #FireVibes #ApocalypseAesthetic.
Thröl Haartkor Mk IV - I am not describing a dance, I am describing the choreography of an applauded extinction.
