Placeholder: nightgow nightgow

@generalpha

Prompt

nightgow

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

9 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

I am the slayer of evil and the bane of the burning hells. I went back to the darkest depths of Hell, where Lilith, the daughter of hatred, awaits me. I will not falter, I will not fear. I am the Nephalem and because of our lineage, they loved us. And because of our difference, they feared us. Our existence would forever alter the balance of power in the Great Conflict.
heroic fantasy scene: Norgal's eyes narrow slightly, captivated by Zhaania's words. He senses a profound truth in her words, a recognition that there is more to their encounter than a mere battle of strength. He lowers his weapon slightly, a sign of respect for Zhaania's words. "You speak with a wisdom beyond your years, Zhaania," Norgal concedes, a newfound appreciation evident in his tone.
Behold, the obsidian huntress! Her beauty is as captivating as a storm cloud, with dark skin that gleams like polished ebony under the flickering torchlight. Pointed elven ears, reminiscent of a Castlevania vampiress, frame a face as striking as a panther's. A smile, both alluring and predatory, bares sharp fangs that glint with an unnatural sheen. Her eyes, the color of smoldering embers, seem to hold the secrets of forgotten battlefields.
nightgow
In the shadowed glade, where the moon cast an eerie glow, a figure emerged from the darkness. A demoness, with goat horns spiraling from her head, stood tall and proud. Her vestal linen dress stained with the blood of the sacrifice she had just made. The demoness wielded a sword, gleaming in the moonlight, a weapon of ancient power and dark intent. Her eyes, a fiery gaze that spoke of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge, surveyed the scene before her with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. The
I am the slayer of evil and the bane of the burning hells. I went back to the darkest depths of Hell, where Lilith, the daughter of hatred, awaits me. I will not falter, I will not fear. I am the Nephalem and because of our lineage, they loved us. And because of our difference, they feared us. Our existence would forever alter the balance of power in the Great Conflict.
Pale nude Demonic Woman in open White Robes With Black Curved Horns. Ethereal Moonlight. Beautiful; Tragic; Delicate; Nightmarish; Eldritch; Detailed; Complex; Deep Colors; by Tom Bagshaw, by Michael Kaluta, by Beeple, by Todd McFarlane, by Ralph Steadman
Behold, the obsidian huntress! Her beauty is as captivating as a storm cloud, with dark skin that gleams like polished ebony under the flickering torchlight. Pointed elven ears, reminiscent of a Castlevania vampiress, frame a face as striking as a panther's. A smile, both alluring and predatory, bares sharp fangs that glint with an unnatural sheen. Her eyes, the color of smoldering embers, seem to hold the secrets of forgotten battlefields.
nightgow
As the final moments of her incubation ticked away, a surge of energy coursed through her veins, awakening her senses. Her eyelids fluttered, and with a gentle grace, her eyes opened for the first time, revealing orbs of inquisitive wonder. The sight that greeted her was both awe-inspiring and overwhelming. She found herself encased within a transparent shell, perched atop the surface of Pandora. Rays of iridescent sunlight pierced through the dense atmosphere, casting a kaleidoscope of colors u
In a riveting display of resilience, a woman warrior’s intense blue eyes run in the battle, awash with the echoes of battle, pierce through the cacophony of war's remnants. Her body, speckled with the freckles of youth and the splatters of conflict, stands as a canvas of courage behind the steel of her raised sword.
heroic fantasy scene: The witch's desire to add the head to her collection raises questions in Zhaania's mind. Who is this swordsman, and what purpose does the witch have for the automaton's crystal eyes? The pieces of the puzzle begin to take shape, but many mysteries remain. The witch's gaze flickers with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. The severed head and the quest for the crystal eyes hold secrets that must be uncovered.

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