Placeholder: Give me a key to lock The door to the secret paradise There are so many queuing up And I won't let them in Look at them They are cheeky They are never worthy to be saved Give me a key to lock The door to the secret paradise There are so many queuing up And I won't let them in Look at them They are cheeky They are never worthy to be saved

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@generalpha

Prompt

Give me a key to lock The door to the secret paradise There are so many queuing up And I won't let them in Look at them They are cheeky They are never worthy to be saved

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

15 days ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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[illustration by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird] Eliza nods grimly, moving to the door with the key ready. "Be prepared for anything when we open this," she warns, her fingers steady on the ancient iron. The tentacled horrors surge forward, their claws scraping against the stone walls. Markus grunts with effort, his muscles straining against the sealed door. "It's moving!" he shouts, the wood beginning to splinter. A wet, slithering sound fills the stairwell as more creatures emerge from the dar
[illustration by Grzegorz Rosiński] Ahead, an archway of fused bone and skulls frames an ancient iron door etched with strange, angular sigils. The air smells of old blood and something… burnt.
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
A detailed and whimsical illustration, created in a vintage charcoal style. This piece explores unique and fantastic architecture, with intricate details that invite the viewer to discover every corner. The figure at the entrance adds a touch of mystery and narrative to this imaginary scene. Ideal for lovers of fantasy art and traditional drawing.
[illustration in the la ligne claire style by Grzegorz Rosiński] Ahead, an archway of fused bone and skulls frames an ancient iron door etched with strange, angular sigils. The air smells of old blood and something… burnt.
The hobbit's eyes grew wide as celestial stars. "Welcome, sir!" cried he, still grinning. "What brings you to this humble inn?" The elf smiled, soft as a breeze through young leaves. "I come in search of the finest brew in all the Shire. Might your skilled hands work their magic for me?" "It would be my honor indeed!" said the hobbit, and set to his task with more mirth than ever. He selected beans plump with sun, grinding and tamping with special care. Two perfect shots were pulled, and steamed
The hobbit's eyes grew wide as celestial stars. "Welcome, sir!" cried he, still grinning. "What brings you to this humble inn?" The elf smiled, soft as a breeze through young leaves. "I come in search of the finest brew in all the Shire. Might your skilled hands work their magic for me?" "It would be my honor indeed!" said the hobbit, and set to his task with more mirth than ever. He selected beans plump with sun, grinding and tamping with special care. Two perfect shots were pulled, and steamed
[Kupka] Driven by an unexplained urge, Ensign Williams followed her instincts, venturing outside the secured areas of the Starfleet vessel USS Enterprise and into the dense jungle moon below. The lush flora stretched as far as the sensor's visual range, a stark contrast to the sleek corridors and halls of starships she called home. The sterile environment of starships seemed distant here, replaced by the vastness of an undiscovered alien ecosystem. Vines, trees and exotic plants of unknown bioch
Give me a key to lock The door to the secret paradise There are so many queuing up And I won't let them in Look at them They are cheeky They are never worthy to be saved
[illustration by Grzegorz Rosiński] Ahead, an archway of fused bone and skulls frames an ancient iron door etched with strange, angular sigils. The air smells of old blood and something… burnt.
In the cozy confines of his hobbit-hole in the Shire, from his small wooden desk, you admire the morning sunlight streaming through the window, casting a warm glow. you gazed out at the lush greenery that surrounded his home. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, carrying with it the sweet scent of wildflowers and the distant sound of birdsong.
Codex of the Hollow Tree
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