r/LandOfDiffusion

Just an aesthetic

Thought I'd make myself pretty

Only for daddy

I can’t stop thinking about vegetable art

This song kind of came out of nowhere - I was sitting there thinking I didn’t really have anything to work on, and then I ended up going down this rabbit hole that started with talking to gpt about pillories and stocks, public punishment, that whole idea of being marked out and shamed in front of everybody.

- That got me thinking about how AI artists get treated online, and I started thinking about the whole "disclosure" argument, and what it really means in practice, and it made me think of "The Scarlet Letter," and that idea of like being made to wear a visible label so people can judge you before they’ve even really engaged with you.

People frame it like it’s just about honesty, but a lot of the time it feels more like public marking: a label you’re supposed to wear so others can single you out faster, build a story around you, and tear into the work or disregard it before they’ve even really looked at it.

So I started making an image around that idea, and then I felt like the image deserved more like, its not just, here's my character getting branded, but like the why behind it, and the song kind of naturally grew out of that place - it just felt right.

The song itself was fun to make just from it kinda pushing me a bit to play with the tools, its quite messy and loud but I like it a lot - I might be too close to it lol like you love your own children haha and so can never admit they are ugly XD so you know, listener beware lmao but honestly despite it being a bit "much" i really do like where I landed with it

- it started muuuuuch more banjo heavy, it feels like the model totally understands, "replace fast electric guitar arpeggios and squealing riffs etc with banjo in this metalcore song" but what it struggles with is, "dont just replace the lead electric guitar, put that fast crazy banjo in there AND include a crazy squealing lead electric guitar"

So, what I ended up doing after trying to push the guitar in harder with prompts was I just changed the prompt entirely to an electric guitar heavy metalcore song, removing any reference to banjo, and i got a version that stayed really really close to my favorite generation i had been pushing for awhile, but that was suuuper electric guitar heavy.

so then, I took my main version I loved with all the banjo into studio, and I took the stems from the electric guitar version and layered them over - so its the full banjo heavy generation with many of the instruments from the electric guitar generation and even some of the vocals layered over it in studio :)

Then you know, capctut fun - this time I included lyrics!

So yea, it was fun to play around with the tools like that, and I hope someone digs listening half as much as I enjoyed making it XD - thanks for checking it out and reading all this if you did!

You can give the song a like and me a follow on Suno if you want here,

https://suno.com/s/jeQnI0j9R13ZVX1Y

thanks again!

Starring u/Winter_Storm86 as Winter Storm and yours truly as the Corvid!

Started off just wanting to do a couple fun hang out renders but things kinda got away from me, like usual.

I did learn that according to the laws of vector space, Winter Storm is addicted to pocky??

This was a pretty fun series to make. Collabs are cool!

PS: when leaving your CONFIDENTIAL DATA outside of the local corpo bodega, make sure you label it CONFIDENTIAL DATA so everyone knows it’s top secret and they should leave it alone.

and we aren't even birds LMOA

"Let us begin, shall we... Dalver-Nar?"

Morris Ashward, Royal Mage of Tenron, knelt before the ensnared beast once more. Although his voice was quiet and his tone conversational, it seemed to shatter the silence. It carried a confidence that came with the title of Archmage...and this, he had found, carried a magic of its own.

The darkening expression of the entity seemed to confirm this. Whether it was the uttered name or the newfound bravado, its smile faded. And for the first time it spoke, barely above a whisper.

"You have no...no claim to hold me. You come bearing no seal, no...sigil."

"Of course. How silly of me." Ashward had brought no incenses, no books or wands. He merely produced a small box of chalk, and removed a single piece. "Let's correct that."

Although the robed figure made no move, the entire air of the cellar seemed to have changed. Morris did not wait, but struck while the iron was hot, deftly drawing runes around a new circle of his own, aligning and layering each line by memory. He regretted forgetting the summoning book, but he'd spent the night studying it, and he lettered the strange conjuring circle with a skill learned over a lifetime.

"I bind the spirit bound to thee, mad sage! You will answer all that I ask. Now, where is the crown prince?"

"Gone..." Its voice was low and sibilant, its face somber, but the malice in the words was unmistakable. "He is lost to you. Ask me no more." The thing reached up, its arms studded with molars, incisors and fangs, and began removing its hood. "Ask me no more, Morris son of Edgar, lest ye be vexed."

"TELL ME THE TRUTH!" he dashed the last mark of the final sigil into place, completing the circle.

Suddenly, everything changed. A lump rose in his throat, and ice gripped his heart. He staggered to his feet, struggling to find his voice again.

He didn't recognize any of the runes before him. Had he really recalled that circle from his time in the library? Hadn't that been a dream?

What had he done?

He struggled against his own growing uncertainty. He told himself that his welling despair was part of the summoning, an effect of the Weeping Angel's influence, nothing more. Still, when he found his voice it was weak and watery, sounding impossibly old and frail.

"...Before the seal of Focalor, I...I demand that you tell me. Where is Kieran Riven?"

"The Prince of Tears. Very well. Here is your truth...and your tears." The thing stood, pulling away the cowl.

Kieren, the king's own son, stood before the archmage, draped in purple rags. His skin had the color and sheen of an infected gum line, and sores pocked his skin where teeth erupted forth, and were healed over.

The chalk slipped from Morris's hand.

The moment that the wards on the wizard's summoning circle were marred, Morris Ashward was lost. The cold gripping his chest rose over his head and threatened to drown him. His godson stood before him, a deformed horror, and the scream welling inside him joined a chorus of wailing that stuck in his throat and rendered him mute.

Dalver-Nar, wearing the prince as if he were an ill-fitting suit, stepped out of his own warding circle unfettered. When he placed a hand on the old mage' shoulder, Morris made no move in response. He was lost in himself.

Dalver-Nar spoke to him anyway. "Take care, Royal Mage of Riven. I'll make your pleasantries known back at the castle."

I'm not a real captain
But I am a real bird
I am an actual bird
I live like a bird

https://youtu.be/zTMvMkt-1ls?si=hUhflkZhFYy9ioAo

Like robin hood but less useful