Search Results for hips
Explore AI generated designs, images, art and prompts by top community artists and designers.
A Giant Alien City on a desert alien planet. The city is created out of a giant beer tin that is extremely elongated and has long teardrop shaped eye sockets. Part of the beer tin is removed where communications dishes and antenna protrude. The rest of the city rests inside the giant maw of the tin , with advanced , futuristic flying vehicles going in and out of the huge city beer tin and giant space ships hovering above the city. There are moons and space in the background. ,
Generate imageSummon Kaali as the untamed avatar of primordial feminine power—depicted in a pre-Renaissance , anime-inspired vision that honors the oldest temple carvings , unafraid of the storm and shadow.Her form is carved from midnight—muscles rippling like river currents beneath velvet-dark skin , hips and thighs sculpted by chaos and creation alike. Her body is crowned by wild , ink-black tresses , a thundering halo that whips and coils with the wind , tangled with relics of conquest: shards of bone , tangled garlands , living serpents , and storm-born flowers.Her face is both moon and fang: kohl-drenched eyes , sharp-browed , the smile of one who has tasted the world’s last secrets—lips parted , a whisper from the edge of fear and ecstasy. Blood and ash paint her cheekbones , the mark of night’s embrace.Adorn her not in cloth , but in the trophies of existence’s darkest dance:Around her throat , a mala of skulls—some leering , some fresh with memory—each a chapter in her endless poem.Across her form , gleaming circlets of precious metal—some curving boldly where flesh meets fate , adorned with charms: tiny effigies , droplets of red stone , echoing the mystery beneath.Her girdle: not sewn , but assembled from relics of battle—armlets , wristlets , and a wild tangle of chains and ornaments that flutter and clash like battle hymns.The lower shadows reveal nothing and everything—her presence veiled in living shadow , a thicket of inked wildness , ornamented and obscured by the spoils of war: pendants , bone , locks of hair , and relics of those who challenged her. The body’s full story told in suggestion , not exposure; all curves rendered through glimmering metal and ink-stained darkness.Four arms—each a weapon and a blessing:One raises a blade slick with night’s nectar.One cradles a vessel brimming with ancient offerings.One clutches the memory of defeat , andThe last bestows fearless benediction upon mortals.She stands astride the world’s fears:Foot pressed to the chest of a dreaming god , or planted among a harvest of vanquished pride , the ground littered with echoes of shattered arrogance—steel , bone , and the last embers of rebellion.Her brow is crowned by the relics of eternity—skull tiara , crescent , garlands and sacred glyphs.Ashes stripe her skin , fangs glint at her lips , and serpents coil in the wild banner of her hair.Her mood: A tempest , a seductress , a breaker of chains and hearts—her gaze dares you to worship , her aura demands respect or retreat.Scene:A world painted in obsidian and moonlight—rivers of shadow , pyres of defeated certainty , storms that howl through broken temples.All rendered in the language of black ink , heavy shadow , and feverish brush—where every detail is both invitation and warning , every line a hymn to the untamed goddess.Style:Manga-ink , bold , tempestuous , mythic—never safe , never sanitized , always true to the wildest prayers of ancient night. ,
Generate image Summon Kaali as the untamed avatar of primordial feminine power—depicted in a pre-Renaissance , anime-inspired vision that honors the oldest temple carvings , unafraid of the storm and shadow. Her form is carved from midnight—muscles rippling like river currents beneath velvet-dark skin , hips and thighs sculpted by chaos and creation alike. Her body is crowned by wild , ink-black tresses , a thundering halo that whips and coils with the wind , tangled with relics of conquest: shards of bone , tangled garlands , living serpents , and storm-born flowers. Her face is both moon and fang: kohl-drenched eyes , sharp-browed , the smile of one who has tasted the world’s last secrets—lips parted , a whisper from the edge of fear and ecstasy. Blood and ash paint her cheekbones , the mark of night’s embrace. Adorn her not in cloth , but in the trophies of existence’s darkest dance: Around her throat , a mala of skulls—some leering , some fresh with memory—each a chapter in her endless poem. Across her form , gleaming circlets of precious metal—some curving boldly where flesh meets fate , adorned with charms: tiny effigies , droplets of red stone , echoing the mystery beneath. Her girdle: not sewn , but assembled from relics of battle—armlets , wristlets , and a wild tangle of chains and ornaments that flutter and clash like battle hymns. The lower shadows reveal nothing and everything—her presence veiled in living shadow , a thicket of inked wildness , ornamented and obscured by the spoils of war: pendants , bone , locks of hair , and relics of those who challenged her. The body’s full story told in suggestion , not exposure; all curves rendered through glimmering metal and ink-stained darkness. Four arms—each a weapon and a blessing: One raises a blade slick with night’s nectar. One cradles a vessel brimming with ancient offerings. One clutches the memory of defeat , and The last bestows fearless benediction upon mortals. She stands astride the world’s fears: Foot pressed to the chest of a dreaming god , or planted among a harvest of vanquished pride , the ground littered with echoes of shattered arrogance—steel , bone , and the last embers of rebellion. Her brow is crowned by the relics of eternity—skull tiara , crescent , garlands and sacred glyphs. Ashes stripe her skin , fangs glint at her lips , and serpents coil in the wild banner of her hair. Her mood: A tempest , a seductress , a breaker of chains and hearts—her gaze dares you to worship , her aura demands respect or retreat. Scene: A world painted in obsidian and moonlight—rivers of shadow , pyres of defeated certainty , storms that howl through broken temples. All rendered in the language of black ink , heavy shadow , and feverish brush—where every detail is both invitation and warning , every line a hymn to the untamed goddess. Style: Manga-ink , bold , tempestuous , mythic—never safe , never sanitized , always true to the wildest prayers of ancient night. ,
A photorealist , full lenght , natural face , a Indian woman adorned in the Spiral blue & Off green Amira Aari Saree , the intricate patterns and vibrant colors unfurling like a blossoming flower. The fabric spirals outward dramatically , showcasing an explosion of color. Her head , elegantly positioned , adds to the visual allure against a softly blurred backdrop , emphasizing the Saree's stunning visual effect , barefoot sitting legs crossed on a bed in a blue and white futuristic bedroom , space ships seen through a windows ,
A 27-year-old blonde woman , muscular with huge , bulging muscles and large breast implants , wearing a red two-piece bodybuilding swimsuit , with large hips and thick , muscular legs , is standing , covering her chest with her arms , with a shocked and surprised expression. She is standing on a gray bodybuilding platform with a competition screen in the background. ,
A sprawling **steampunk cityscape** dominated by towering brass-and-copper skyscrapers , their gears and pistons exposed like mechanical veins , belching plumes of thick , golden steam into a perpetually twilight sky. Airships with patched canvas hulls and whirring propellers drift lazily between the buildings , their wooden gondolas adorned with flickering gas lamps and intricate filigree railings. Below , a labyrinth of cobbled streets winds between market stalls selling clockwork trinkets , hissing pneumatic tubes , and jars of glowing alchemical liquids in eerie blues and greens. Goggled engineers in leather aprons tinker with half-assembled automatons , their tools scattered across workbenches cluttered with blueprints and rusted cogs. In the foreground , a grand **central plaza** features a colossal , steam-powered fountain—its water spouting from the jaws of a mechanical dragon , its bronze scales gleaming under the dim glow of arc lamps. The plaza is bustling with life: top-hatted gentlemen adjust their pocket watches , corseted inventors argue over schematics , and street urchins dart between legs , selling stolen gears from their satchels. Above it all , a **massive clock tower** looms , its face cracked and hands moving erratically , as if time itself is unraveling in this city of brass and dreams. The art style blends **hyper-detailed linework** with a **gritty , textured aesthetic**—every surface shows signs of wear , from the tarnished metal of the airships to the scorch marks on the factory smokestacks. The lighting is **moody and dramatic** , with deep shadows cast by the flickering gaslights , while the steam diffuses the glow into an ethereal haze. The color palette is rich yet muted—**burnished coppers , deep browns , and aged brass** dominate , punctuated by the occasional flash of **emerald-green alchemy** or **ruby-red warning lights**. The composition should feel **immersive and alive** , as if the city itself is a living , breathing machine. ,
McQue's art showcases a dynamic blend of science fiction illustration and concept design , characterized by intricate details , atmospheric environments , and a "kit-bashing" aesthetic that suggests a lived-in , functional world. While specific artistic influences aren't always explicitly cited , his work resonates with the traditions of model-making , industrial design , and classic science fiction illustration , with scenes of futuristic and gritty sci-fi settings , often featuring floating ships , bustling urban landscapes , and detailed mechanical designs. The composition , with its use of perspective , detailed foregrounds , and often a central point of interest like a vehicle or character , draws the eye through the scene , often depicting moments of transit , exploration , or interaction within a larger world , mirroring the narrative/emotional impact of classic science fiction. His color palette , employing industrial grays , rusty reds , muted blues , and occasional pops of vibrant yellows , evokes both the functionality and the wear-and-tear of his imagined worlds. The vehicles and machinery , with their intricate details and sense of plausible engineering , capture the imagination and sense of possibility inherent in science fiction. Overall , McQue's distinctive style infuses the artwork with a unique artistic flair , transporting viewers to the detailed and atmospheric worlds he creates , often suggesting a rich backstory and a sense of ongoing activity. ,
Bird's eye view , a massive purple-scaled dragon dominates the sky above a burning town. Its wings stretch wide , torn and weathered , scattering fragments of debris as it descends. The dragon’s head leans forward with an intense , predatory focus; its eyes glow with a hot yellow hue while flames burst upward beneath it. A spatial battle with interstellar starships caught in an elements storm , with debris vortex and dust trails , Below a floating bridges of glowing crystal spanning across alien mountains , with surreal atmosphere , post apocalyptic , rocky ocean shore , post apocalyptic , rocky ocean shore , sci-fi style , space opera style , fantasy style. Warm Brown , Toffee Caramel , Frosted Blue and Pale Mist. ,
