Placeholder: [art by Dorohedoro] The ingenue, once pure and innocent, finds herself seduced by the allure of a darker world. Initially drawn in by promises of excitement and adventure, she begins to compromise her values and morals. Slowly, she descends into a web of deceit, manipulation, and vice, as she becomes entangled in the illicit activities surrounding her. Each step further from her former self, she embraces the tainted life, indulging in forbidden pleasures and abandoning her innocence for the thri [art by Dorohedoro] The ingenue, once pure and innocent, finds herself seduced by the allure of a darker world. Initially drawn in by promises of excitement and adventure, she begins to compromise her values and morals. Slowly, she descends into a web of deceit, manipulation, and vice, as she becomes entangled in the illicit activities surrounding her. Each step further from her former self, she embraces the tainted life, indulging in forbidden pleasures and abandoning her innocence for the thri

Back to Profile

@generalpha

Prompt

[art by Dorohedoro] The ingenue, once pure and innocent, finds herself seduced by the allure of a darker world. Initially drawn in by promises of excitement and adventure, she begins to compromise her values and morals. Slowly, she descends into a web of deceit, manipulation, and vice, as she becomes entangled in the illicit activities surrounding her. Each step further from her former self, she embraces the tainted life, indulging in forbidden pleasures and abandoning her innocence for the thri

statue, doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

1 month ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

[art by Dorohedoro] The tragic descent of the ingenue, once pure and innocent, into the embrace of a darker world: the ingenue of purity and innocence, finds herself lured by the siren song of forbidden. At first, the promise of excitement and adventure beckons to her, casting a tantalizing spell that she cannot resist. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she begins to compromise her values and morals, The weirder the better. It gets worse every year. They always want something new. Bigger monsters. S
[art by Dorohedoro] Beware of the beautiful promises hidden behind the mask. Some promises, just like some beauty, bring nothing but sorrow, regardless of how appealing they may be.
[blue scarf] Sabrina was a sight to behold, with long black hair flowing like ink as she moved. Her eyes seemed to glow an otherworldly crimson under the stage lights. Whispers spread that she was no ordinary woman - they said she was the offspring of Satan himself. As she sang, her voice carried a hypnotic power that wrapped around your mind and refused to let go. The crowd screamed the lyrics along with her, lost in the music's spell. All tension and worries melted away as bodies collided
[blue scarf] Sabrina was a sight to behold, with long black hair flowing like ink as she moved. Her eyes seemed to glow an otherworldly crimson under the stage lights. Whispers spread that she was no ordinary woman - they said she was the offspring of Satan himself. As she sang, her voice carried a hypnotic power that wrapped around your mind and refused to let go. The crowd screamed the lyrics along with her, lost in the music's spell. All tension and worries melted away as bodies collided
"What evil have you wrought?" asks Dahlia, Her voice cutting through the still night air. "More innocent blood on your hands I see." Azazel grins, teeth glinting in the shadows. "Who are you to judge my actions, O hooded one? Your scythe is not my concern."
[Zizi Jeanmaire] Time seemed to distort as she floated alone in the unending void. She carefully rationed her meager supplies, spending long hours sleeping to conserve oxygen. But even in dreams, panic crept in. She found herself gasping for breath in a sudden waking, the pod walls crushing inward as the air grew thin. Checking readings only heightened her fear - reserves dropping faster than expected. Sophie scrabbled through storage for anything that could boost the failing life support,
Sabrina was a sight to behold, with long black hair flowing like ink as she moved. Her eyes seemed to glow an otherworldly crimson under the stage lights. Whispers spread that she was no ordinary woman - they said she was the offspring of Satan himself. As she sang, her voice carried a hypnotic power that wrapped around your mind and refused to let go. The crowd screamed the lyrics along with her, lost in the music's spell. All tension and worries melted away as bodies collided in the mosh pit.
[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] The interminable deliberations have lasted past noon, and Dagmar's gnawing hunger has soured her mood beyond reason. Her cerulean gown now seems a suffocating vice as her stomach roils in protest. Each statement from these pen-pushers and bureaucrats only whets her jagged fangs further. When at last the council is dismissed, Dagmar stalks forth like a blizzard given flesh. Her alabaster features appear carved from ice, those sloe eyes glittering with frigid malice.
[art by Dorohedoro] tank girl is a AD&D paladin of peace, with a plate armour and a two handed sword, fighting a vampire in a tomb with a silver blade. She is covered with Celtic tattoos
Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
Far away, in the distant reaches of the sprawling wastelands, Tank Girl's presence was a mere whisper on the canvas of desolation. Her silhouette, a tiny, indistinct figure, dissolved into the vastness of the unforgiving terrain. From my vantage point high atop the canyon, she appeared as a solitary speck, her form barely distinguishable against the harsh, windswept backdrop. The tank she rode, a clunky and eccentric contraption, seemed like a distant dot, its mechanical rumblings imperceptible
Terms of Service • Privacy Policy

© 2024 Stablecog, Inc.