(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Rainbow, The Most Beautiful Fish of Hell
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: Sabotage the children’s tale "Rainbow, the most beautiful fish in the ocean" by turning it into a black fable, where brilliance no longer serves to teach sharing but to ridicule ego and fake superiority.
Inspired by the children’s tale "Rainbow, The Most Beautiful Fish in the Ocean"
Rainbow the little fish gleams, it blinks, it begs for the gaze like a beggar covered in glitter. Impossible to miss its trajectory, it saturates the water with garish colors, it turns itself into a living neon sign. Every scale screams “look at me” with the finesse of a truck horn. The more it shines, the less credible it is. But it does not care, it strokes its ego with reflections, convinced that brightness makes the law, that light exempts it from any other form of decency.
It swims with its chest puffed out, its brain on permanent pause, convinced that the world is a rigged contest where it is enough to be more visible than the others to win. The other fish become scenery, extras, aquatic furniture meant to confirm its imaginary superiority. Share? Obscene word. Step aside? Personal insult. It prefers to sink deeper into lies, to trade its flesh for bling, to disguise the scheme as personal merit. Everything is good to stay above the others, even when the others do not give a damn.
The comedy becomes grotesque when it starts ruining itself just to stay shiny. Each scale torn off is replaced by another, more eye-catching, more expensive, more shiny. It steals, it cheats, it lies with the poise of a goldsmith, convinced that no one will see the rot as long as it sparkles. This fish confuses the envy it provokes with respect, jealousy with admiration, visual noise with any kind of greatness.
By constantly confusing brightness with value, Rainbow ends up being nothing more than a parasitic signal, too visible to be believed, too hollow to be followed. Its colors impress no one anymore. The looks it was chasing become looks that avoid it. And it stays there, prisoner of its own chromatic racket, incapable of existing without overexposing itself, incapable of understanding that shining to mask emptiness has never led anywhere.
The water keeps circulating, indifferent, while its act dissolves, leaving behind a cruel obvious truth: those who bet everything on appearance end up alone with a negative balance.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - It takes a lot of light to mask the absence of depth.
Image available for sale on Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-12-21
Content of the pack:
1 Original (Rainbow, The Most Beautiful Fish of Hell.png | 2048x1147 | 16:9)
2 Upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5 | 5120x2867 + _UPSCALE_x5 | 10240x5735)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Arc-en-ciel, Le Plus Beau Poisson de l'Enfer
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But: Saboter le conte pour enfants "Arc-en-ciel, le plus beau poisson de l’océan" en le transformant en fable noire, où la brillance ne sert plus à apprendre le partage mais à ridiculiser l’ego et la supériorité factice.
Inspiré par le conte pour enfants "Arc-en-ciel, Le Plus Beau Poisson de l'Ocean"
Arc-en-ciel le petit poisson luit, il clignote, il supplie le regard comme un mendiant couvert de paillettes. Impossible de rater sa trajectoire, il sature l’eau à coups de couleurs criardes, il se fait enseigne lumineuse vivante. Chaque écaille hurle « regarde moi » avec la finesse d’un klaxon de poids lourd. Plus il brille, moins il est crédible. Mais il s’en fout, il se caresse l’ego à coups de reflets, persuadé que l’éclat fait la loi, que la lumière dispense de toute autre forme de décence.
Il nage le torse bombé, le cerveau en pause permanente, convaincu que le monde est un concours truqué où il suffit d’être plus voyant que les autres pour gagner. Les autres poissons deviennent du décor, de la figuration, du mobilier aquatique destiné à confirmer sa supériorité imaginaire. Partager ? Mot obscène. S’effacer ? Insulte personnelle. Il préfère s’enfoncer dans les mensonges, troquer sa chair contre du clinquant, maquiller la combine en mérite personnel. Tout est bon pour rester au-dessus des autres, même quand les autres n'on ont rien à foutre.
La comédie devient grotesque quand il commence à se ruiner lui-même pour rester brillant. Chaque écaille arrachée est remplacée par une autre, plus voyante, plus chère, plus brillante. Il vole, il triche, il ment avec un aplomb d’orfèvre, persuadé que personne ne verra la pourriture tant qu’il scintille. Ce poisson confond l’envie qu’il provoque avec du respect, la jalousie avec de l’admiration, le vacarme visuel avec une quelconque grandeur.
À force de confondre l’éclat avec la valeur, Arc-en-ciel finit par n’être plus qu’un signal parasite, trop voyant pour être cru, trop creux pour être suivi. Ses couleurs n'impressionnent plus personne. Les regards qu’il cherchait deviennent des regards qui l’évitent. Et lui, reste là, prisonnier de son propre tapage chromatique, incapable d’exister sans se surexposer, incapable de comprendre que briller pour masquer le vide n’a jamais mené nulle part.
L’eau continue de circuler, indifférente, pendant que son numéro se dissout, laissant derrière lui une évidence cruelle : ceux qui misent tout sur l’apparence finissent seuls avec leur solde négatif.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Il faut beaucoup de lumière pour masquer l’absence de fond.
The image "Mental Refuge" by Thröl Haartkor, created using AI and custom moodboards, blends past and recent styles to generate a unique visual aesthetic, available for purchase on Deviant Art.
This AI-generated image, "Memory of the Rocks," blends past artworks and recent algorithms to establish a unique visual style, emphasizing collaboration between AI and human creativity.
They come in masses. Too many to think, enough to crush, eyes burned out by the light they claim to seek. A compact crowd, demanding silence the way order is demanded. They move forward packed tight, disciplined by fear, convinced that silence is a natural rule, like gravity or collective cowardice. They demand that Thröl shut up, because the fact that he is still speaking reminds them that they gave up.
At the center, the house is still standing, one window lit like a simple, brutal refusal. On the rise, Thröl raises his torch. Not to call for gathering, but to signal that he will not retreat.
Thröl has ideas. They cut. They crease the flesh of consensus.
They rarely please, never enough, often not at all.
Good. He holds them to the end, because a word dropped halfway becomes an excuse, and Thröl does not manufacture those. He speaks straight, without asking permission.
Around him, the world grinds and demands to be muted. He answers with the fire of words.
The choir loves to gag whatever sticks out, but do not try to silence him. Thröl has no device for conformity. If they clench their jaws, he tightens his grip on the torch. If they raise walls of rules, he carves his theses into them with a chisel.
And if the network rears up, if the wires have to be set on fire for the idea to pass through, then it will burn.
Alone against the world, yes. But alone does not mean fragile. Alone means without a leash.
The torch spits red, the night steps back once, the herd blinks… No one leaves the ranks. Thröl moves forward, and every step is an additional refusal to shut up.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Silence is for hiding. I prefer to stay visible, even when it burns.
A neuron reflects on the morning after an alcohol-fueled night, observing its peers' collective denial while the body suffers the consequences. Morning amnesia is revealed as a conscious choice.
The content critiques how rebranding plastic as "bio-sourced" has trapped the planet in waste, resulting in a stagnant environment. It emphasizes that renaming issues doesn't eliminate their consequences, highlighting humanity's failure.
A neuron embarks on a journey, realizing that memories never truly disappear but instead persist within the subconscious, leading to a chaotic existence without resolution or escape from the past.
The image "Afterparty Vibes" by Thröl Haartkor, created through AI and customized moodboards, merges past and present styles, showcasing a unique visual signature for sale on Deviant Art.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Synaptic Pyromaniacs
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: Expose the lucid stupidity of a mind that thinks itself clever, sets its own thinking on fire, and remains conscious enough to watch the blaze loop endlessly without ever going out.
The evening was coming to an end, that murky moment when the soaked brain wallows and still imagines itself a strategist. That’s when it took root. A supposedly brilliant idea: shut down the current of thought… by lighting a big fire inside it.
Too much turbulence, too many questions, too much buzzing. So they rubbed two sparks together in the skull and applauded, satisfied with their drunken audacity. The neurons, those guards convinced they’re intelligent, lit the blaze with the enthusiasm of idiots certain they’re acting nobly. The fire caught. Of course it did. Fire always catches when a drunk idea mistakes itself for an effective solution.
Thought reacted with the delicacy of a kick to the balls. It snapped clean, like dishes hurled against a wall, bursting into nervous fragments that repainted the brain with a luminous, aggressive matter. Nothing obeys anymore. Ideas start screaming in disarray, clawing at each other, crashing together, each convinced it’s right. Inside, it’s a ravaged field where every impulse trips over the previous one. Everything burns without ever being consumed. Everything continues in ruin, very proud of its chaos.
The arsonists stay there. Planted. Eyes wide open. Late lucidity. They contemplate the chaos they manufactured with the composure of a technician who just pressed the wrong button and pretends to own it. Escape still seems theoretical, repair already out of reach. The fire no longer listens to them. Thought, gone feral, snickers and multiplies. It throws every spark back in their faces, mental shrapnel edition.
Then they understand. Stopping thought required an intelligence they didn’t have. They only learned how to make it uncontrollable. The brain turns into a minefield where every idea triggers a new internal explosion. And they, poor neural pyromaniacs, watch the scene, frozen, responsible, perfectly useless, condemned to contemplate the final work of their sabotage.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - The plan was bad, the execution impeccable, the result perfectly catastrophic.
Image available for sale on Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-12-12
Content of the pack:
1 original (Synaptic Pyromaniacs.png | 2048x576 | 32:9)
2 upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5 | 5120x1440 + _UPSCALE_x5 | 10240x2880)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Pyromanes synaptiques
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But: Exposer la bêtise lucide d’un esprit qui se croit malin, met le feu à sa propre pensée et reste assez conscient pour regarder l’incendie tourner en boucle sans jamais s’éteindre.
La soirée touchait à sa fin, ce moment trouble où le cerveau imbibé patauge et se prend encore pour un stratège. C’est là que ça a germé. Une trouvaille supposée brillante : éteindre le courant de la pensée… en y allumant un grand feu.
Trop de remous, trop de questions, trop de bourdonnements. Alors ils ont frotté deux étincelles dans le crâne et applaudi, satisfaits de leur audace alcoolisée. Les neurones, ces vigiles persuadés d’être intelligents, ont allumé l’incendie avec l’enthousiasme des imbéciles convaincus d’agir noblement. Le feu a pris. Forcément. Le feu prend toujours quand une idée bourrée se prend pour une solution efficace.
La pensée a réagi avec la délicatesse d’un coup de pied dans les burnes. Elle s’est brisée net, façon vaisselle jetée contre le mur, éclatant en fragments nerveux qui ont repeint le cerveau d’une matière lumineuse et agressive. Plus rien n’obéit, Les idées se mettent à hurler en désordre, se griffent, se rentrent dedans, persuadées chacune d’avoir raison. À l’intérieur, c’est un terrain ravagé où chaque impulsion se prend les pieds dans la précédente. Tout brûle sans jamais se consumer. Tout continue en ruine, très fier de son chaos.
Les incendiaires restent là. Plantés. Yeux grands ouverts. Lucidité tardive. Ils contemplent le chaos qu’ils ont fabriqué avec l’aplomb d’un technicien qui vient d’appuyer sur le mauvais bouton et fait semblant d’assumer. La fuite leur paraît encore théorique, la réparation déjà hors de portée. Le feu ne les écoute plus. La pensée, devenue sauvage, ricane et se multiplie. Elle leur renvoie chaque étincelle en pleine figure, version shrapnel mental.
Alors ils comprennent. Arrêter la pensée exigeait une intelligence qu’ils n’avaient pas. Ils ont seulement appris à la rendre incontrôlable. Le cerveau se transforme en terrain miné où chaque idée déclenche une nouvelle explosion interne. Et eux, pauvres pyromanes neuronaux, assistent à la scène, figés, responsables, parfaitement inutiles, condamnés à contempler l’œuvre finale de leur sabotage.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Le plan était mauvais, l’exécution impeccable, le résultat parfaitement catastrophique.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Thröl's Psychoses
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 2025-12-11
Content of the pack:
1 original (Thröl's Psychoses.png | 2048x576 | 32:9)
2 upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5 | 5120x1440 + _UPSCALE_x5 | 10240x2880)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Les Psychoses de Thröl
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But:
