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Shiori Novella's Moonlit Witch Flight ✨
There's something so enchanting about Shiori Novella soaring over the city under a full moon like this — that sly grin and those glasses give her such a mischievous, storybook charm that I can't help but adore. She honestly looks like she just flew straight out of a midnight tale, and I'm completely here for it! If this witchy vibe speaks to you, please drop a like and follow for more, and tell me in the comments which Hololive member I should draw next~
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PixAI “Halloween Oddities Club” Special Contest - A Night at Higan Inn#PixAI Halloween 2026
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(PeachBuns)
1girl, solo, black hair, red streaks, red streaked hair, short ponytail, red eyes, yellow glasses, yellow-rimmed glasses, witch outfit, black witch dress, high collar, long billowing sleeves, witch hat, black pointed hat, flying, riding broom, straddling broomstick, gripping broom, windblown hair, ponytail streaming back, cloak and hem snapped backward by the wind, leaning forward, dynamic angle, from below, foreshortening, looking down, open-mouth grin, :d, night sky, full moon behind her, clouds streaking past, motion lines in the clouds, dark palette with red and yellow accents
The camera sits low and ahead of her, tilted up from below and slightly to her right, so the broomstick's bristles rush past the near edge of the frame in the foreground and her body recedes in foreshortening toward the moon. She straddles the broom in a flat-out racing lean, chest low over the shaft, knees drawn up and clamped to the wood, both boots hooked back along the handle behind her; her right hand grips the shaft just ahead of her hip, knuckles pale with the squeeze, and her left arm is flung out and back for balance, the billowing sleeve cracking like a sail. Her short black ponytail with its red streaks whips straight back off the crown of her head, and the wide black brim of the pointed witch hat is pressed down over her brow, the tall cone bent backwards by the wind. Behind the yellow-rimmed glasses her red eyes are narrowed against the rush of air, flicked down and forward past the bristles at the rooftops below, and her mouth is pulled into a wide open-mouthed grin, cheeks flushed, one brow cocked high.
The black witch dress is a long-sleeved garment with a stiff high collar buttoned to the chin and sleeves that balloon at the elbow and taper at the wrist; the skirt and a short cape stream out behind her, cloth rippling in long scalloped folds that snap alternately taut and slack with each gust. The night is deep blue-black; a huge full moon sits low behind her shoulder and rims the entire silhouette — the hat brim, the ponytail, the flung sleeve, the broom shaft — in one continuous cold silver line, while her front stays dim and only her red eyes and the yellow frames catch light. Ragged clouds tear past in the middle distance beneath her, their edges feathered where the wind has combed them, and far below a scatter of tiny warm-lit windows marks a sleeping town. Palette held tight: black, moonlit silver-blue, the red of the streaks and eyes, the yellow of the frames, nothing else admitted. The bristles at the bottom of the frame are split and splayed by the air rushing through them, each straw bent backward the same way. Exhilarated, weightless.
Blazing Rebecca
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