Placeholder: 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 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

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@generalpha

Prompt

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

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

11 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

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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
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
give this fey muse leave to dwell in worship longer where first your spell took flight, within that steam-drenched urban vale of sweat and sinew! Each drop clinging to lithe curves calls me deeper into revel - for your gym attire clings naught but second skin, dear sprite. Lycra and spandex drape slender waist and limb like moisture on forest bracken, outlining secrets this pilgrim's hands ache to roam in reverence. Bra-lined breasts heave lusty as new-furrowed earth with every lunge and fiber-t
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
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
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
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
For where my sprite once rested weary, now lies vision to shame the rosy dawn. Fiona reclines 'mid emerald shadows and bronze, swaddled but in whispers of silk begging exploration's caress. One braid yet clings fierce as briar 'long her breast, dark ribbon winding 'gainst skin fine as forest moss. Wild contrast to blooms now bared where light and gloom conspire, sweeter fruits than my penance dares dream to taste or name. Eyes of peridot pin this wretch like any hunter's prize, daring the fainte
Och, what a day it's been chasing that wild wood sprite Fiona through my shots! From her sly forest entrance to haunting the gym with feline grace, the lass never stops weaving her faerie spell. And I along for the ride through it all, clinging to the shutter like a lifeline. First she slips into the studio, braids swaying with hints of heather home. Takes my breath those emerald eyes, peering from another realm. But Fiona plays on her terms, leading me a merry dance through clicks and captures.
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
[fun lingerie] 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. "
Och, 'twas within those urban walls of sweat and sinew your flame first stirred my muse, sweet sprite. Your woodland magic works its weaving even where steel and chrome hold concrete court. I see you now, slipping lithe through mirrored thickets like doe in her timber vigilance. Lean muscle glistens taut beneath skin fine as forest moss with every pump and lunge. And steam rises heavy as my frankincense, veiling curves this pilgrim's eyes yearn to trace in detail best left to shadier bower. 'Nea
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