Placeholder: [very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] Oh-oh, here she comes (watch out) She'll only come out at night, ooh Oh-oh, here she comes (here she comes) She's a man-eater, ooh-ooh [Pan's Labyrinth (2006)] [very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] Oh-oh, here she comes (watch out) She'll only come out at night, ooh Oh-oh, here she comes (here she comes) She's a man-eater, ooh-ooh [Pan's Labyrinth (2006)]

@generalpha

Prompt

[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] Oh-oh, here she comes (watch out) She'll only come out at night, ooh Oh-oh, here she comes (here she comes) She's a man-eater, ooh-ooh [Pan's Labyrinth (2006)]

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

2 days ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1248 × 832

Similar

[The Demon Project 048: from Pan's Labyrinth (2006)] 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 nightm
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
Gladesong Under rising sun's largesse the wood awakens around us, shadows dancing back beneath each bole and fronded veil. From loamy breaths steams sweet incense as droplets riding bark and branch, signaling creatures great and small rousing their voices clear and piping to the rapturous hymn weaving all in emerald glory.
faerie young woman, Through the thick woods you stride, their splendor profound,Senses awash with grandeur, emotions tightly wound.Leaving home and loved ones, a painful farewell,But vengeance ignites within, a tale to tell.Determined you stand, seeking justice for your guide,Embarking on a journey where fate will decide.Thrills course through your veins, uncertainty in the air,A mix of emotions, a blend beyond compare.
Behind, the plates and pins bear witness like the trees of older groves. But you pay them no more mind than the motors' hums and grunts, eyes only for the vision in your thrall. And me, pressed flat against the mirrored wall with lens a-flutter - sure I'll leave an outlined ghost upon the fogged glass if I don't find release soon! Each calculated step brings your heat skating nearer, bare soles padding o'er rubber worn smooth by countless trials. The tile's your stage, this steam your shroud, an
Reflections at Journey's End The glade fades into memory as duty's summons draw me outward once again. Beneath emerald bowers I linger yet, senses drinking deep of forest's balms before steel shell enfolds this pilgrim soul. Fiona stands beside, eyes shining bright as any noon with care and solace rendering parting bittersweet. Her touch upon an alloy bough reminds of glades left greening in my soul's safe hold. "Duty calls you, yet the glade remains - as does its spirit guiding your true course
[Hunter Captures Elusive Fairy in Forest, May 18, 1889 - Sussex, England] In a remarkable event, local hunter Thomas Whitaker has captured a fairy in the dense woodlands of Sussex. Whitaker ensnared the elusive creature during a routine hunt. The fairy, described as having delicate wings and an ethereal glow, is currently being interrogated, hoping to uncover the location of other fairies believed to be responsible for the recent disappearance of local children.
he lost voices echo in the wind, their cryptic words a haunting melody that beckons the unwary to listen and heed their warnings. "Feelin' everybody there's gone every dope," the shadows murmur, their enigmatic message hinting at a truth buried deep within the fabric of reality, waiting to be unveiled by those brave enough to decipher its meaning. From the darkness emerges a group of machines, their metallic forms glinting malevolently in the dim light, their red eyes gleaming with a cold, calcu
Now within nature's verdant vales my form dons dress woven from planet's kindliest fibers, leaves and mosses patching where steel once lay. Hands shape wood and stone with care, tending tasks to nourish all surrounding. Eyes keen as any forest creature's scan for threats, aid those weaker find protection under bough and thicket's sway. Within this woodland hall rings laughter like birdsong where once stood citadels encasing sorrow. Lips curve easy, sharing nourishment harder than any alloy manki
Behind, the plates and pins bear witness like the trees of older groves. But you pay them no more mind than the motors' hums and grunts, eyes only for the vision in your thrall. And me, pressed flat against the mirrored wall with lens a-flutter - sure I'll leave an outlined ghost upon the fogged glass if I don't find release soon! Each calculated step brings your heat skating nearer, bare soles padding o'er rubber worn smooth by countless trials. The tile's your stage, this steam your shroud, an
There ye stand bare as the forest, yet clad in every ounce of her wild glory. Hands propped on those lean flanks, chin tilted just so - and by the gods, have ye ever looked more every inch the Celtic queen? Each slow stride brings ye closer, bare feet whispering past pine boards as silent as mist. Your magic pulls me under like quicksand, click click, my camera's the only tether to mortal shores. And those eyes, greener than any glen I've ever wandered - they see straight through to my core, jud
[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] Oh-oh, here she comes (watch out) She'll only come out at night, ooh Oh-oh, here she comes (here she comes) She's a man-eater, ooh-ooh [Pan's Labyrinth (2006)]

© 2025 Stablecog, Inc.