Placeholder: In a far away galaxy... similar like Earth... Princess Lilia, attending her great grandmothers something alike Halloween party in those part of the universe 😀 Anyways her great grandma is the Dark Queen Amara, which you can look up in my gallery. And she wants her great grand daughter dress up for the occasion ☺️ Soo.. she dressed in a Sorceress Attire, um.. well the princess herself is a white witch 😀 Hehehe.. In a far away galaxy... similar like Earth... Princess Lilia, attending her great grandmothers something alike Halloween party in those part of the universe 😀 Anyways her great grandma is the Dark Queen Amara, which you can look up in my gallery. And she wants her great grand daughter dress up for the occasion ☺️ Soo.. she dressed in a Sorceress Attire, um.. well the princess herself is a white witch 😀 Hehehe..

@generalpha

Prompt

In a far away galaxy... similar like Earth... Princess Lilia, attending her great grandmothers something alike Halloween party in those part of the universe 😀 Anyways her great grandma is the Dark Queen Amara, which you can look up in my gallery. And she wants her great grand daughter dress up for the occasion ☺️ Soo.. she dressed in a Sorceress Attire, um.. well the princess herself is a white witch 😀 Hehehe..

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

2 months ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

Elphaba is a graceful witch, in her agent provocateur and her high boots, her green skin plays with flames
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
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
Sable braids stream moon-bright in zero-g, shedding faerie starshine where sterile alloys drink not its luminance. Electrically keen eyes scan for sparks of spirit in these circuits sapped of soul, their amber gleam a beacon to any watching. Your rippling limbs maneuver weightless 'mid girders and gangways in a waltz no wires or circuits can mimic. Och gentle huntress, guide lost souls through these barren byways as only your wildwood spirit can! With faerie light that puts circuits to shame, re
[art by john bauer] In the heart of an enchanted forest, where the light barely filtered through towering trees, a mischievous witch named Morgella was joyfully gathering magical mushrooms. Her wide violet cloak, adorned with a sparkling gem on her hat, revealed her status as an experienced witch, but her sparkling eyes and joyful laughter showed she wasn’t as serious as some might think.
Aye, there she stood before me now, this wild wood nymph in mortal form. At my request she'd posed center-stage under the studio lights, a quiet stillness falling over her. Gone was the slip-away slyness of before; now she granted me her full visage. Head held high she stood, proud and true as an ancient oak. Her twilight braids near reached her hips, leaves and vines and forest spoils twined within. One arm wrapped herself as if in contemplation, whilst the other balanced upon a jutting hip. Th
Sable braids stream moon-bright in zero-g, shedding faerie starshine where sterile alloys drink not its luminance. Electrically keen eyes scan for sparks of spirit in these circuits sapped of soul, their amber gleam a beacon to any watching. Your rippling limbs maneuver weightless 'mid girders and gangways in a waltz no wires or circuits can mimic. Och gentle huntress, guide lost souls through these barren byways as only your wildwood spirit can! With faerie light that puts circuits to shame, re
[sadness, alcoholism, toxic forest] The weirder the better. Alcohol, a dangerous elixir, only worsened Tinkerbell's struggles. Her once radiant wings dulled, her spirit withered. Lost and disconnected, her emerald eyes now reflect profound sadness. Clutching the stolen glass, she seeks solace in its warmth. The forbidden vessel mirrors her desires. Longing and hesitation dance in her gaze. The amber liquid sways, casting a glow upon her face, mirroring the flickering flame within. The weight of
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
Morticia Addams glided by his side with graceful elegance. For unlike her family's usual severe aesthetics, today Morticia had chosen to clad herself in the whimsical styles of Christian Dior. She wore an ankle-length dress of silk chiffon in a muted watercolor print of lavenders, sea blues, and shadowed greys. The slim skirt and fitted bodice draped lovingly over her lithe figure. A halter neckline gently displayed her alabaster shoulders. A wide-brimmed hat of the same printed silk shaded her
The studio door creaked open, and she strode in like a woodland sprite emerging from the forest mist. Long locks the color of autumn maple leaves spilled from her woven braids, bound with strips of leather dyed shades of heather and moss. Her eyes shone bright as berries beneath arched brows, keenly taking in her surroundings. Lithe and lean she stood before me, clad from neck to ankle in shadowsilk that molded itself to her athletic form. Bracers encircled wrists and forearms, supple leathers d
For centuries, the Keeper had stood guard, a silent witness to the passage of time, to the rise and fall of empires, to the fleeting nature of mortality. Yet, in this moment, as the petals danced like flames in the darkness, the Keeper felt a stirring within the void of his chest—a whisper of something that felt like sorrow, or perhaps, longing.

© 2024 Stablecog, Inc.