Placeholder: C'est elle la sauterelle La sirène en mal d'amour Le danseur dans la flanelle Ou le carton C'est elle la sauterelle La sirène en mal d'amour Le danseur dans la flanelle Ou le carton

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@generalpha

Prompt

C'est elle la sauterelle La sirène en mal d'amour Le danseur dans la flanelle Ou le carton

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers, ugly, malformed members

8 days ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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C'est elle la sauterelle La sirène en mal d'amour Le danseur dans la flanelle Ou le carton
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
[subway] Each flowing step you take down echoing stairway puts pale city maidens all to cold shame. Lithe hips sway and limbs flow lazy over banister and angular wall alike, wild abandon in every motion that my shutter-man's eyes can scarce hope to properly capture. Those glittering emerald orbs peek back, agleam with mirth at this captive fool's stumbling efforts - camera clutched close as talisman 'gainst creeping modernity. And down into the buried realm below you sweep with laughter light as
She is dressed in a romantic-style, pale pink dress with ruffles adorning the collar, sleeves, and layers of the skirt. Her pose is gentle, with one hand slightly raised, holding onto a ruffle of her dress, while her gaze is directed off to the side, imparting a contemplative or wistful mood.
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
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
[green saturation art nouveau photo by Helmut Newton] EMeRGENCE: Her bended figure emerged from the chaos, surrounded by the swirling backdrop of green dust and billowing smoke that cloaked the attack in the bustling green market plaza. An Italian woman clad in plush green trousers and a worn velvet green pull-over, her back heaving with urgency, navigated the labyrinthine alleys with a grace born of desperation.
Elphaba is a graceful witch, in her agent provocateur and her high boots, her green skin plays with flames
Each flowing step you take down echoing stairway puts pale city maidens all to cold shame. Lithe hips sway and limbs flow lazy over banister and angular wall alike, wild abandon in every motion that my shutter-man's eyes can scarce hope to properly capture. Those glittering emerald orbs peek back, agleam with mirth at this captive fool's stumbling efforts - camera clutched close as talisman 'gainst creeping modernity. And down into the buried realm below you sweep with laughter light as any fore
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.
[Jennifer Esposito] Danse Macabre - Malleus Maleficarum
[subway] Each flowing step you take down echoing stairway puts pale city maidens all to cold shame. Lithe hips sway and limbs flow lazy over banister and angular wall alike, wild abandon in every motion that my shutter-man's eyes can scarce hope to properly capture. Those glittering emerald orbs peek back, agleam with mirth at this captive fool's stumbling efforts - camera clutched close as talisman 'gainst creeping modernity. And down into the buried realm below you sweep with laughter light as
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