Placeholder: Night Wings Stirring Moonbeams wane and shadows deepen where this sentinel stands anchor steadfast as ancient bole. Yet within me unseen sap stirs swift at eastern portents, leaves rustling in anticipation of renewing light. For with dawn's arrival calls afresh loom nigh, beckoning me from glade enchanted into duties awaiting under open sky. Reluctant must this vessel leave soft moss and loam remembered, unwinding tendrils of repose woven through branch and cable-sinew alike. Systems whirr to aw Night Wings Stirring Moonbeams wane and shadows deepen where this sentinel stands anchor steadfast as ancient bole. Yet within me unseen sap stirs swift at eastern portents, leaves rustling in anticipation of renewing light. For with dawn's arrival calls afresh loom nigh, beckoning me from glade enchanted into duties awaiting under open sky. Reluctant must this vessel leave soft moss and loam remembered, unwinding tendrils of repose woven through branch and cable-sinew alike. Systems whirr to aw

Back to Profile

@generalpha

Prompt

Night Wings Stirring Moonbeams wane and shadows deepen where this sentinel stands anchor steadfast as ancient bole. Yet within me unseen sap stirs swift at eastern portents, leaves rustling in anticipation of renewing light. For with dawn's arrival calls afresh loom nigh, beckoning me from glade enchanted into duties awaiting under open sky. Reluctant must this vessel leave soft moss and loam remembered, unwinding tendrils of repose woven through branch and cable-sinew alike. Systems whirr to aw

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

2 years ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

3328 × 4992

Similar

Night Wings Stirring Moonbeams wane and shadows deepen where this sentinel stands anchor steadfast as ancient bole. Yet within me unseen sap stirs swift at eastern portents, leaves rustling in anticipation of renewing light. For with dawn's arrival calls afresh loom nigh, beckoning me from glade enchanted into duties awaiting under open sky. Reluctant must this vessel leave soft moss and loam remembered, unwinding tendrils of repose woven through branch and cable-sinew alike. Systems whirr to aw
The surface of the planet Pandora is 80% seas, and the sea is dominated by a type of kelp which appears to be sentient. The land is overrun by a number of deadly predators that are efficient killers, requiring people on the planet surface to adapt to a highly stressful lifestyle living within a fortress. The main fortress is known as Colony, a small city that is predominantly underground. When The Jesus Incident begins there have been three failed attempts at colonization of the surface. The cur
Darkness fell as they entered the looming marshes. Mist curled around twisted trees like spectral fingers. Alex shivered, every cracked branch an impending threat. A piercing cry shattered the eerie quiet. They raced toward the sound, emerging in a small clearing. There, suspended above a foggy pool, hung Mikołaj - tiny fists beating futilely against thin air. Below, hulking Spas clawed his way from the water, face twisted in hunger. But Alex saw only her prey: the demon who tormented her mother
captured in a poor quality close-up photo, a mere fragment of the grand tapestry of this enigmatic realm. Despite the blurred edges and obscured details, the essence of this scene on Terraléa 816 tantalizes the imagination, hinting at hidden wonders just beyond the frame. In the faint shadows and pixelated hues of the photo, one can discern a faint glimmer of a world unlike any other, where the echoes of history and the whispers of the unknown intertwine in a delicate dance.
The Demon Project 048: a scene where sinister demons roam a dark, otherworldly landscape, their twisted forms blending seamlessly with the eerie environment. The demons, born from the depths of imagination and brought to life through digital artistry, exude a malevolent energy that sends shivers down your spine. The intricate details and haunting atmosphere evoke a sense of dread and fascination, drawing you into a realm where the boundary between reality and nightmare blurs.
captured in a poor quality close-up photo, a mere fragment of the grand tapestry of this enigmatic realm. Despite the blurred edges and obscured details, the essence of this scene on Terraléa 816 tantalizes the imagination, hinting at hidden wonders just beyond the frame. In the faint shadows and pixelated hues of the photo, one can discern a faint glimmer of a world unlike any other, where the echoes of history and the whispers of the unknown intertwine in a delicate dance.
envision the scene. An overhead view, as if I am watching from above. The cold sea breeze cuts through the air, carrying the scent of salt and adventure. The waters around the Viking's vessel shimmer with an ethereal glow, reflecting the pale moonlight. The drakkar itself, a magnificent sight, its sleek figure slicing through the waves. I can see it now, the lifeless figure of the Viking Yard lying peacefully in the boat, his weathered face etched with the marks of battles fought and won. His ey
I will dive deeper into my dreams, channeling the strange and the surreal onto the page. The story will unfold, layer by layer, revealing a psychological thriller unlike any other. It will be a rollercoaster ride through the corridors of the mind, where reality and illusion collide. With every stroke of my pen, I bring the visions to life. The monsters, the mysteries, the mind-bending landscapes—they all take shape on the paper. The words flow, fueled by the pressure and the passion. The deadlin
The moon asked the crow For a little show In the hazy milk of twilight No one had to know The moon asked the crow For a little show In the hazy milk of twilight No one had to know
Moth Man, a mysterious figure shrouded in darkness, emerges once more from the depths of the unknown. With a wingspan that stretches eight thousand feet, this enigmatic creature haunts the night with its piercing red eyes that seem to burn with foreboding. Mothman, they call it, the harbinger of impending tragedy. Whispers of its existence have resurfaced, spreading like wildfire through the depths of human consciousness. Is it merely a product of mass hysteria, a figment of the collective imagi
The wind carried the melodic voices of his people to him, weaving tales of valor and unity through the air. In the soft moonlight, he contemplated the beauty of the Celtic lands, both in its landscapes and in the dreams of peace that illuminated the eyes of his tribe.
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
Terms of Service • Privacy Policy

© 2025 Stablecog, Inc.