Su PixAI i prompt sono pubblici per impostazione predefinita, ma i creator possono nasconderli in qualsiasi opera pubblicano. Chi ha creato quest'opera ha scelto di farlo, quindi le parole usate per generare l'immagine restano private e può vederle solo lui. Nascondere il prompt non cambia nient'altro: l'opera resta pubblica e puoi metterle mi piace, commentarla e condividerla come sempre.
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id
plant, fruit, 1girl, anthropomorphism, plant girl, Beautiful Chaos Core, beauty born from restraint not perfection, masterpiece, detailed eyes, looking at viewer, colorful, emotional atmosphere, imperfect beauty, emotion overflowing, nature aesthetic
ist-dorayaki
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Hhh Hh
id
masterpiece, plant, fruit, girl face, Beautiful Chaos Core, beauty born from restraint, not perfection, surreal, organic, conceptual art, aesthetic, ultra detailed
ist-dorayaki
fidgeting, touching chin tip, natural blush, droopy eyes, masterpiece, best quality, high detailed, seductive expression, from front, looking up viewer, sideways mouth, dreamy atmosphere, full body, an eerie, a mollusk and a thick ivy-like fused life form, a vine-like life form, ivy, long hair, pantyhose, clothes preserved, low noise, no panties, a visceral scene of cosmic desecration within the vaulted ruins of an unholy temple, where the air is thick with the stench of sulfur and ancient decay. At the epicenter of the frame, a coal-black humanoid entity ascends with predatory grace from a churning, viscous pool of bubbling black tar that has erupted through the cracked obsidian floor. The entity is a terrifying void of form—its body is entirely featureless and smooth, red eyes, long hair. The entity is wreathed in a suffocating purple aura, its silhouette etched with an intricate network of glowing pink tattoos and forbidden symbols that pulse like a heartbeat across its skin. From its back and shoulders, thick, featureless tentacles of living shadow lash out, dripping with corruption. As the entity rises, the temple itself is being actively corrupted; the ancient stone walls and floors are being consumed by creeping veins of black tar, while the existing runes and occult glyphs carved into the architecture ignite in a sympathetic, sickly pink glow. The atmosphere is heavy with a palpable sense of dread and nightmare, capturing a moment of inevitable, cruel ascension where the very fabric of the sanctuary is being rewritten by an ominous, unholy power. A mass of tentacles clings to the body. Tentacles are swarming out of everywhere. Tentacles from the wall are clinging to the body.
thee66199
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