Prompt: The witch the hearts rode in the clouds. The moon came out in the witch the hearts rode forth from the bosom of the child of God, in the course of her services she created a ring of fire with which to bind the hearts of the children of the Earth, the rings were created in the shape of pale pink roses, the composition is very pleasing and intricate, and the elements are arranged in such a way so that clause 2 could not be drawn on
Prompt: FULL HD, 4K, aerial view, zoomed out, bright colorful natural watercolor, one path/trail splitting into two paths/trails, one path is wide, the other path is narrow, moon in the background
Negative: boring undetailed blurry unfocused
Style: Watercolor
Prompt: an architectural orthogonal 45 degree diagram of a big kids playground, with an open gym, roof garden design for family gathering and kindergarden playground
Negative: perpective
Style: Line Art
Prompt: mysterious white tiger family sci-fi surreal beautiful tiger, butterflies, planets, butterflies, stars, aurora borealis northern lights cold feeling,
Negative: blurry, ugly, weird, too dim, not brightly lit, scary, missing legs, extra legs,
Style: Cinematic
Prompt: As the moon weaves its silver threads across a velvet sky, the Witching Hour descends upon a dimly lit wizard's chamber. In this bewitched sanctum, surrounded by tomes of ancient magic and crooked grimoires, incantations dance on the tongue of a wizard diligently summoning spirits. Wisps of smoke rise from bubbling cauldrons, carrying the scent of exotic herbs and enchanted potions. Pixies flutter by, their wings leaving trails of ethereal sparkles. Goblins, with misaligned teeth and twitching fingers, lurk on the fringes, eager to catch a glimpse of conjured wonders. This mystical muddle, a delicate balance of whispered spells and whispered secrets, casts a spell of mystery and enchantment upon all who dare to linger.
Prompt: As the moon weaves its silver threads across a velvet sky, the Witching Hour descends upon a dimly lit wizard's chamber. In this bewitched sanctum, surrounded by tomes of ancient magic and crooked grimoires, incantations dance on the tongue of a wizard diligently summoning spirits. Wisps of smoke rise from bubbling cauldrons, carrying the scent of exotic herbs and enchanted potions. Pixies flutter by, their wings leaving trails of ethereal sparkles. Goblins, with misaligned teeth and twitching fingers, lurk on the fringes, eager to catch a glimpse of conjured wonders. This mystical muddle, a delicate balance of whispered spells and whispered secrets, casts a spell of mystery and enchantment upon all who dare to linger.
Negative: nudity
Prompt: two colors graphic trame serigraphy, goat, cosmic absctract creature, celestial abstract god, psychedelic, DMT, out of this world, symmetrical, nebula texture, nebula glow, light emanation, object glowing
Prompt: an architectural diagram of a big kids playground, with an open gym, roof garden design
Style: Line Art
Prompt: In the forest at night, the vast sky is adorned with a bright moon. It hangs high in the darkness, like a silver plate suspended, emitting a soft glow. The moon, like an eye, flickers with a mysterious power, illuminating the dense forest, enveloping everything in the romance and tranquility of the night.
Prompt: In the forest at night, the vast sky is adorned with a bright moon. It hangs high in the darkness, like a silver plate suspended, emitting a soft glow. The moon, like an eye, flickers with a mysterious power, illuminating the dense forest, enveloping everything in the romance and tranquility of the night.
Prompt: In shadows cast by moon's soft light,A girl stands, lost in the lonely night.Heartbroken whispers, a silent cry,A piece of her heart lost, a tear-stained sky.Alone she wanders through the echoing gloom,A ghost of love, consumed by the tomb.No solace found in words so sweet,For in her shattered heart, pain's cruel defeat.No one comprehends the depth of her despair,Echoes of laughter, a love once so rare.Yet, they speak of healing, of time's gentle mend,But she knows her heart's wound won't easily transcend.In the quiet corners where her tears often flow,She mourns a love that ceased to grow.No warmth in assurances, no comfort in the day,For the love she lost will forever hold its sway.So she walks through the shadows, her spirit torn,A lonely symphony of a heart forlorn.In the silence, she bears the weight of the cost,A girl undone, with a heart forever lost,devil wings from his back, holding a blood dripping heart.
Prompt: In shadows cast by moon's soft light,A girl stands, lost in the lonely night.Heartbroken whispers, a silent cry,A piece of her heart lost, a tear-stained sky.Alone she wanders through the echoing gloom,A ghost of love, consumed by the tomb.No solace found in words so sweet,For in her shattered heart, pain's cruel defeat.No one comprehends the depth of her despair,Echoes of laughter, a love once so rare.Yet, they speak of healing, of time's gentle mend,But she knows her heart's wound won't easily transcend.In the quiet corners where her tears often flow,She mourns a love that ceased to grow.No warmth in assurances, no comfort in the day,For the love she lost will forever hold its sway.So she walks through the shadows, her spirit torn,A lonely symphony of a heart forlorn.In the silence, she bears the weight of the cost,A girl undone, with a heart forever lost.Holding a blood dripping heart,devil wings behind her back.
Negative: wrong wing size,wrong wing position,blood dripping from the heart
Prompt: In shadows cast by moon's soft light,A girl stands, lost in the lonely night.Heartbroken whispers, a silent cry,A piece of her heart lost, a tear-stained sky.Alone she wanders through the echoing gloom,A ghost of love, consumed by the tomb.No solace found in words so sweet,For in her shattered heart, pain's cruel defeat.No one comprehends the depth of her despair,Echoes of laughter, a love once so rare.Yet, they speak of healing, of time's gentle mend,But she knows her heart's wound won't easily transcend.In the quiet corners where her tears often flow,She mourns a love that ceased to grow.No warmth in assurances, no comfort in the day,For the love she lost will forever hold its sway.So she walks through the shadows, her spirit torn,A lonely symphony of a heart forlorn.In the silence, she bears the weight of the cost,A girl undone, with a heart forever lost.
Prompt: Radiantly emerging, a rose-limned being floats amid cascading blossoms fringing alabaster avenues, nacre petals spilling quicksilver verses. Lithe as nebulae, ambrosial hymns flush alabaster flesh with indigo lament, chronicling sundered ages from citadels carved in moonlight. Delicate silks shed, relinquishing etherial memories upon the edge of dreaming. (Imogen Cunningham, Claude Cahun, Dove)
Negative: nudity
Prompt: dream prompt:In shadows cast by moon's soft light,A girl stands, lost in the lonely night.Heartbroken whispers, a silent cry,A piece of her heart lost, a tear-stained sky.Alone she wanders through the echoing gloom,A ghost of love, consumed by the tomb.No solace found in words so sweet,For in her shattered heart, pain's cruel defeat.No one comprehends the depth of her despair,Echoes of laughter, a love once so rare.Yet, they speak of healing, of time's gentle mend,But she knows her heart's wound won't easily transcend.In the quiet corners where her tears often flow,She mourns a love that ceased to grow.No warmth in assurances, no comfort in the day,For the love she lost will forever hold its sway.So she walks through the shadows, her spirit torn,A lonely symphony of a heart forlorn.In the silence, she bears the weight of the cost,A girl undone, with a heart forever lost.wings appearing from her back, holding a heart in her hand , blood dripping from the heart.
Prompt: When the moon turns blood red and the cries of wolves can be heard echoing throughout the land, a young woman must be sacrificed to appease the ancient god who lays dormant under your village. Otherwise, this being from a time before men will rise and decimate the world. You wake up in the middle of the night to find the villagers binding your hands and feet before dragging you out of your bed. You have been chosen as the next sacrifice. Although you beg for your life, the villagers ignore your pleas for mercy. You are carried to the pit, a chasm where, deep within, the beast resides. As you are held over the pit, with a void of pure darkness beneath you and sulfur permeating your nostrils, you realize that you will have but one chance to escape. You wrench your head to one side and whisper an incantation to a villager who is holding you. He places you gently on the ground and walks over to another villager to whisper the same spell into that villager's ear before walking into the pit. The second villager whispers into the ear of another villager, walks to the pit, and falls in as well. The pattern repeats over and over again as one by one the confused mob sacrifices themselves. Finally, you are by yourself, tied up on the edge of a pit with an angry ancient god digesting an unvirginal meal that he never wanted.
Style: Fantasy Art
Prompt: the four horsemen of the apocalypse descend from heaven. Bringing love, kindness and acceptance. They hand out flowers to the humans on earth.
Prompt: the four horsemen of the apocalypse descend from heaven. Bringing love, kindness and acceptance. They hand out flowers to the humans on earth.
Prompt: The young woman's heart was heavy with fear as she watched the demonically summoned religious ceremony unfold before her. With a sense of urgency, she knew she had to sneak away and reveal the true nature of this dangerous ritual.
Prompt: In the night classroom of the evening school, a thin mist filled the air outside the window. Moonlight penetrated through the glass, casting a pale glow on the classroom. A faintly lit candle adorned the desk, where an ancient book rested. The sound of flipping pages echoed in the silent night. Handprints on the window were visible in the moonlight, resembling ghostly outlines. The notes of applause wafted through the classroom, transforming into a string of eerie blue lights that flickered in the air. Text above the image read in an ancient font: \"Ghostly Applause in the Moonlit Night School.\" The entire scene was shrouded in a mysterious atmosphere, with the ancient window seemingly reflecting a blurry face, sending shivers down the spine. The deep hues and mystical elements in this cover convey the traditional Chinese ghostly theme and a sense of horror, arousing the reader's curiosity about supernatural tales.
Prompt: In the night classroom of the evening school, a thin mist filled the air outside the window. Moonlight penetrated through the glass, casting a pale glow on the classroom. A faintly lit candle adorned the desk, where an ancient book rested. The sound of flipping pages echoed in the silent night. Handprints on the window were visible in the moonlight, resembling ghostly outlines. The notes of applause wafted through the classroom, transforming into a string of eerie blue lights that flickered in the air. Text above the image read in an ancient font: \"Ghostly Applause in the Moonlit Night School.\" The entire scene was shrouded in a mysterious atmosphere, with the ancient window seemingly reflecting a blurry face, sending shivers down the spine. The deep hues and mystical elements in this cover convey the traditional Chinese ghostly theme and a sense of horror, arousing the reader's curiosity about supernatural tales.
Prompt: Under the enchanting canvas of a celestial night sky, the moon, wearing a cloak of shimmering stardust, playfully rolled the Earth like a cosmic game, casting a gentle, ethereal glow upon the swirling continents and vast oceans below.
Prompt: In realms where desire and beauty intertwine, A dance unfolds, where perceptions align. The allure of curves, a tale to be spun, In the poetry of attraction, many reasons are spun. A woman's form, a canvas of grace, A symphony of curves, an enchanting embrace. Large breasts, like moonlit orbs in the night, Draw gazes in, an irresistible sight. Ripeness, a metaphor for life's sweet yield, A bounty of nature, a flourishing field. Curves that echo the promise of fruition, Capturing hearts, a timeless tradition. In the tapestry of attraction, a tale unfurls, Biological whispers, where desire swirls. Breasts, a symbol of nurturing might, Evoke instincts, an ancient rite. Yet, beauty transcends the physical frame, In personality's glow, a lasting flame. Attraction, a nuanced, subjective art, Where connection and depth play their part. In the gaze that lingers, in the heart's sweet beat, Large breasts and ripe bodies find their seat. But let's remember, in this poetic rhyme, True allure is found in the soul's sweet chime.
Prompt: In the deep of night, a pristine moon hangs high in the sky, casting a gentle, cold light. The entire village is enveloped in a dark and mysterious atmosphere, with the outlines of houses vaguely visible. Bathed in the moon's glow, a ghostly figure, draped in a black cloak, slowly emerges at the center of the village. Before the figure hovers an ancient red roly-poly doll, its smile unusually eerie, revealing endless conspiracies and unfathomable terror. The shadow of a sickle is cast upon the figure's face, forming a profound mask, suggesting bloodshed and revenge. Moonlight illuminates a pair of deep eyes beneath the cloak, betraying a determination to uncover the dark secrets of the past and seek retribution. The entire scene conveys the sense of a night filled with a terrifying aura of vengeance.
Prompt: The bulbul's care is naught but the rose is his mate dear The rose's care is naught but to bring grace to her cheer Not all lure is what brings the lover's heart to its fall Master is he who bears compassion to his thrall. Now comes the time when blood gushes into the ruby's heart For the shard hath shattered its value and worth in the mart. The bulbul's power of speech came from the rose's boon Or his beak would be devoid of all this song and tune O thou who in the street of our Love tread Be careful; or his wall may shatter thy head The traveler is accompanied by a hundredfold soul Wherever he is, health and well-being be his dole O heart! Though the dice of health to thee was cast Sweet is the lot of Love. Cling to it hard and fast Intoxicated, the Sufi wore his hat askew Two more goglets, aslant his turban flew To the sight of thee the heart of Hafiz had been inclined It is now cherished with union. Put this torment behind.
Prompt: It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Prompt: It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea. Style: Photograph
Prompt: Friga's twelve maids, who sometimes appear as Odin's emissants, are named El (kindness), Gevjoon (giving), Fula (counsel), Fin (love), Lofen (approval), Fara (oath), Val (Truth), Leanne (dissent), Helene (guardian), Snotra (Wisdom), and Gayna (Messenger). They are also part of Friga's divinity.
Prompt: Everything perishable falls from the soul, Stories strike the clock The universe rings with silver, Dogs fly across the universe... The colors are burning fantastically, And, no matter how wise the head is, You still believe the fairy tale. The fairy tale is always right!
Prompt: Everything perishable falls from the soul, Stories strike the clock The universe rings with silver, Dogs fly across the universe... The colors are burning fantastically, And, no matter how wise the head is, You still believe the fairy tale. The fairy tale is always right!
Prompt: Moon descending: Depicting the moon gradually setting, symbolizing the passage of time and a sense of departure. Ravens crying: Describing the cries of ravens echoing in the silent night, adding a touch of melancholy and solitude. Frost covering the sky: Illustrating the sky covered with a thin layer of frost, evoking a sense of coldness and also symbolizing the arrival of autumn. Maple trees by the river: Referring to the maple trees standing lonely by the riverside, conveying a feeling of loneliness and sorrow. Fishing fire: Depicting the fishermen's lit fire, illuminating their faces with a warm glow, creating a stark contrast against the cold night.
Prompt: the goddess of medicine, gathering healing herbs and passing down the art of healing to her daughters, and Vara, the deity overseeing oaths, ensuring their observance or retribution for their breach.
Prompt: The sun of the full moon rises high,Casting a spell on the darkened sky.Its golden light and lunar grace,Enchanting all in its warm embrace.The magic of the sun of the full moon,Is a sight that will leave you swoon.As its rays of light reach down below,The world awakens with a radiant glow.The trees and flowers, they all dance,As the sun of the full moon takes its chance.To paint the world in hues of gold,And leave us breathless, young and old.The creatures of the night, they hide,As the sun of the full moon takes its pride.Its warmth and light a stark contrast,To the chill of the night that has passed.And so we bask in its celestial glow,As it brings forth a beauty we've yet to know.The magic of the sun of the full moon,A fleeting moment that will end too soon.But in that moment, we feel alive,As if we've been touched by the divine.The sun of the full moon, a sight to behold,A wondrous magic that will never grow old.
Style: Fantasy Art
Prompt: The day hides its face: The fields were covered with gloomy night; A black shadow rose upon the mountains; The rays bent away from us; An abyss has opened and is full of stars; The stars have no number, the bottom of the abyss.
Prompt: The day hides its face: The fields were covered with gloomy night; A black shadow rose upon the mountains; The rays bent away from us; An abyss has opened and is full of stars; The stars have no number, the bottom of the abyss.
Prompt: Craft a mystical tableau where blessings and lessons unfold from the churning process, symbolized by ethereal elements emerging from the cosmic scene, portraying enduring rewards and unexpected blessings.
Prompt: The day hides its face: The fields were covered with gloomy night A black shadow rose upon the mountains; The rays bent away from us; An abyss has opened and is full of stars; The stars have no number, the bottom of the abyss
Prompt: The day hides its face: The fields were covered with gloomy night A black shadow rose upon the mountains; The rays bent away from us; An abyss has opened and is full of stars; The stars have no number, the bottom of the abyss
Prompt: Later, the gods used Yumir's remains to build the world, using the body as the earth, then the blood as the sea, the hair as the vegetation, and then the skull to create the sky, the brain to create the clouds, and the world of Middle Earth, where humans lived, was created from Yumir's eyebrows
Prompt: :Once upon a time, in the mystical town of Munchington, where the ethereal and earthly coexisted in a delicate dance, lived a curious maiden named Lily
Prompt: She takes life away and she gives life back. When winter comes, the light and warmth disappear into her cauldron so she can turn them into spring. A relationship ends and goes into the vastness, and in its place she presents opportunity and life change. When one thing ends, she always produces something new to take its place. Eventually everything must go into the shadows. Even you.
Prompt: She takes life away and she gives life back. When winter comes, the light and warmth disappear into her cauldron so she can turn them into spring. A relationship ends and goes into the vastness, and in its place she presents opportunity and life change. When one thing ends, she always produces something new to take its place. Eventually everything must go into the shadows. Even you.
Prompt: The angels with \"pols\" on their backs rushed up into the clouds, covered with sunlight, aiming at the huge moon that loomed in the clouds.
Prompt: Eerie enchantments ebb and flux amidst moon-dimmed mausoleums of medieval men, where chimerical channelers call to comrades crossed seas long since, crafting conduits through veiled via to transport souls to settings seraphic. Otherworldly orchestrations ouvete ominous overtures to usher apparitions audiences awaiting in lands lambent.
Negative: nudity
Prompt: A beautiful young girl with a face like blooming flowers, graceful and charming, exuding a fresh and ethereal aura, possessing an elegant and graceful posture, expressive eyes and captivating expressions, with smooth and radiant skin like jade, a dazzling and brilliant smile, slender and delicate fingers, unparalleled in beauty, resembling the charm of flowers and the grace of the moon.
Prompt: In the night classroom of the evening school, a thin mist wafted over the window. Moonlight penetrated through the glass, casting a pale glow on the classroom. A faintly lit candle adorned a desk, where an ancient book rested. The sound of pages turning echoed in the silent night. The entire scene was enveloped in a mysterious atmosphere. On the ancient window, a vague face seemed to be reflected, sending shivers down the spine. The deep hues and mysterious elements in this imagery convey the eerie ambiance of the story.
Prompt: In the midnight cemetery, a blood-red moon hangs in the pitch-black sky, casting a pale shadow on the tombstones. The chilling wind howls, and a mass of black mist extends through the graveyard, forming eerie ghostly figures that seem to appear and disappear. Bathed in the moonlight, an ancient elder (Old Eccentric) holds a weathered I Ching scripture, radiating a mysterious glow. His eyes gleam with profound wisdom. The elder stands beside an ancient dragon pillar, engraved with traditional talismans and blessing inscriptions. At the elder's feet, a triangular paper charm hovers in the air, covered with cryptic incantations. The yellow jade surrounding the graveyard emits a faint glow, as if heralding the enigmatic forces concealed within. Text floats above the scene: \"The curse of the corpse poison, ancient mysterious powers unfolding.\" The font resembles ancient seal script, exuding an antique atmosphere. The entire composition is imbued with a mysterious and terrifying ambiance, creating a rich atmosphere for the story's theme of traditional Chinese ghostly and supernatural elements.
Prompt: Aria is a brave and curious young girl from a village, always fascinated by the legends of the Forest of Oblivion. Despite the tales, her curiosity about this mysterious place has been unwavering since childhood. One day, she decides to embark on a journey of exploration, armed with a talisman of memory, a keepsake from her grandmother. This talisman is said to protect her memories from the enigmatic powers of the Forest of Oblivion. Aria, with her determined expression and adventurous spirit, steps into the dense, fog-laden forest, the talisman glowing softly around her neck. The scene captures the moment of her brave venture into the unknown, surrounded by the ancient, towering trees of the forest, shrouded in mist and mystery.
