Placeholder: There ye stand bare as the forest, yet clad in every ounce of her wild glory. Hands propped on those lean flanks, chin tilted just so - and by the gods, have ye ever looked more every inch the Celtic queen? Each slow stride brings ye closer, bare feet whispering past pine boards as silent as mist. Your magic pulls me under like quicksand, click click, my camera's the only tether to mortal shores. And those eyes, greener than any glen I've ever wandered - they see straight through to my core, jud There ye stand bare as the forest, yet clad in every ounce of her wild glory. Hands propped on those lean flanks, chin tilted just so - and by the gods, have ye ever looked more every inch the Celtic queen? Each slow stride brings ye closer, bare feet whispering past pine boards as silent as mist. Your magic pulls me under like quicksand, click click, my camera's the only tether to mortal shores. And those eyes, greener than any glen I've ever wandered - they see straight through to my core, jud

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@generalpha

Prompt

There ye stand bare as the forest, yet clad in every ounce of her wild glory. Hands propped on those lean flanks, chin tilted just so - and by the gods, have ye ever looked more every inch the Celtic queen? Each slow stride brings ye closer, bare feet whispering past pine boards as silent as mist. Your magic pulls me under like quicksand, click click, my camera's the only tether to mortal shores. And those eyes, greener than any glen I've ever wandered - they see straight through to my core, jud

doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

2 years ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

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There ye stand bare as the forest, yet clad in every ounce of her wild glory. Hands propped on those lean flanks, chin tilted just so - and by the gods, have ye ever looked more every inch the Celtic queen? Each slow stride brings ye closer, bare feet whispering past pine boards as silent as mist. Your magic pulls me under like quicksand, click click, my camera's the only tether to mortal shores. And those eyes, greener than any glen I've ever wandered - they see straight through to my core, jud
Reflections at Journey's End The glade fades into memory as duty's summons draw me outward once again. Beneath emerald bowers I linger yet, senses drinking deep of forest's balms before steel shell enfolds this pilgrim soul. Fiona stands beside, eyes shining bright as any noon with care and solace rendering parting bittersweet. Her touch upon an alloy bough reminds of glades left greening in my soul's safe hold. "Duty calls you, yet the glade remains - as does its spirit guiding your true course
Aye, there she stood before me now, this wild wood nymph in mortal form. At my request she'd posed center-stage under the studio lights, a quiet stillness falling over her. Gone was the slip-away slyness of before; now she granted me her full visage. Head held high she stood, proud and true as an ancient oak. Her twilight braids near reached her hips, leaves and vines and forest spoils twined within. One arm wrapped herself as if in contemplation, whilst the other balanced upon a jutting hip. Th
See yon Fiona there with locks like serpents coiled o'er pale shoulders, lashes framing eyes bright and dancing as forest streams. Lass moves with grace that shames the rustling willow, supple and lithe as any doe that hunts my heart's desires. That dark kit clings like a second skin, tracing thighs and swells meant for passionate pursuits! Naught leaves secrets from this shutter-man's gaze, save where shadowed glades whisper pleasures unveiled. Each flex and lunge awakens scents headier than me
Reflections at Journey's End The glade fades into memory as duty's summons draw me outward once again. Beneath emerald bowers I linger yet, senses drinking deep of forest's balms before steel shell enfolds this pilgrim soul. Fiona stands beside, eyes shining bright as any noon with care and solace rendering parting bittersweet. Her touch upon an alloy bough reminds of glades left greening in my soul's safe hold. "Duty calls you, yet the glade remains - as does its spirit guiding your true course
[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] Oh-oh, here she comes (watch out) She'll only come out at night, ooh Oh-oh, here she comes (here she comes) She's a man-eater, ooh-ooh [Pan's Labyrinth (2006)]
In the murky depths of a swamp shrouded in mist and mystery, a lone figure stood amidst the tangled roots and twisted vines. Her curly hair tangled with swamp foliage, her attire now a blend of earthy tones and camouflage material, blending seamlessly with the murky surroundings. The woman's eyes were closed, as if in deep contemplation, her tattooed arm a stark contrast against the backdrop of the swamp.
[Endor, tattooed woman warrior, battleaxe] Afrey kneels watchful upon her chosen branch high above the city. Soft glows through the leaves below speak of hearths lit and eyelids growing heavy as the Ewoks within ready themselves for sleep. But she will keep her mantle of guardian a while longer yet. With subtle shifts and flickers, the tattoos adorning her frame seem to writhe in the dimness like nothing so much as the vines and branches around her. Great serpents and ravens curl in tune to some
Now within nature's verdant vales my form dons dress woven from planet's kindliest fibers, leaves and mosses patching where steel once lay. Hands shape wood and stone with care, tending tasks to nourish all surrounding. Eyes keen as any forest creature's scan for threats, aid those weaker find protection under bough and thicket's sway. Within this woodland hall rings laughter like birdsong where once stood citadels encasing sorrow. Lips curve easy, sharing nourishment harder than any alloy manki
Now within nature's verdant vales my form dons dress woven from planet's kindliest fibers, leaves and mosses patching where steel once lay. Hands shape wood and stone with care, tending tasks to nourish all surrounding. Eyes keen as any forest creature's scan for threats, aid those weaker find protection under bough and thicket's sway. Within this woodland hall rings laughter like birdsong where once stood citadels encasing sorrow. Lips curve easy, sharing nourishment harder than any alloy manki
See yon Fiona there with locks like serpents coiled o'er pale shoulders, lashes framing eyes bright and dancing as forest streams. Lass moves with grace that shames the rustling willow, supple and lithe as any doe that hunts my heart's desires. That dark kit clings like a second skin, tracing thighs and swells meant for passionate pursuits! Naught leaves secrets from this shutter-man's gaze, save where shadowed glades whisper pleasures unveiled. Each flex and lunge awakens scents headier than me
Takes a deft touch to capture her woodland magic on film, that wild spirit too bright fer these studio lights. She slips in now, silent as a deer, braids swinging with hints of heather and moss. My model's an artist in her own right, posing's just play when your blood runs close to the earth. A flick of color here, a glint of mischief in emerald eyes, and Fiona weaves a spell that holds me fast. Click click, I'm lost in her faerie gaze, only the shutter's whir bringing me round. "More," she dema
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