Placeholder: Élodie Villemus for her wedding in "quatre marriage et une lune de miel" Élodie Villemus for her wedding in "quatre marriage et une lune de miel"

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@generalpha

Prompt

Élodie Villemus for her wedding in "quatre marriage et une lune de miel"

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

3 days ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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all is dark, blood and smoke and battle: the princess, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced across the stone walls, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air. The princess, dressed in a quick white cotton agent provocateur set, stood by the open window, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. As she gazed out into the moonlit courtyard , she has to fight for her life
As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Megan slowly opened her eyes, her senses still tingling with the remnants of the previous night's encounter. She lifted her gaze to the bedside table, where the talisman rested, its intricate design catching the morning light. A wave of uncertainty washed over her as she pondered the events of the previous night. Was it all just a dream, a vivid projection of her deepest desires? Megan couldn't deny the intensity of the experience, the
[game of thrones] In the grand throne room of Castle Evermoor stands Princess Seraphina, their daughter and the pride of the Thornwood family. Seraphina, in her youthful beauty, carries an air of curiosity and intelligence. Her flowing gown, adorned with intricate embroidery, reflects her status as a member of the noble family. Princess Seraphina's eyes, a reflection of her mother's, hold a glimmer of mischief and a hunger for knowledge. She stands tall, her posture reflecting the regal heritage
mariés au premier regard [vintage style noisy scratches glitches, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed]
In the quaint little town of Willow Creek, whispers of forbidden desire danced on the wind as young Emily made her way to the preacher's house, her heart aflutter with anticipation. She harbored a secret crush on the preacher's son, Matthew, whose rugged charm and piercing gaze had ignited a fire within her that she could no longer ignore. As she approached the immaculate white picket fence that surrounded the preacher's home, a sense of both excitement and trepidation coursed through her veins.
With a mischievous smile playing on her lips, Fiona extends her delicate hand, inviting the spirits to come closer. They encircle her, their ethereal forms shimmering with desire as they dance to an unseen rhythm. The air is thick with an intoxicating blend of magic and sensuality. Fiona's eyes, sparkling with mischief and desire, meet the gaze of a particularly alluring spirit. Their connection is instant, a palpable magnetism that transcends the boundaries of the mortal and the mystical. It is
Among the simple country folks, even at the present day, a bridegroom stands in dread of the envy of the Elves,to counteract which it has long been a custom to lay in the clothes on the wedding day certain strong-smelling plants, as garlic or valerian
Now within leafy groves as serene as cloisters of yore, my form slips free from dress of silk and samite, assuming nature's grace with joy's ease. Skin glows dapple-fair as forest's child, lithe limbs contouring smooth as birch limbs swollen with spring's rebirth. Tresses spill unbound, shadows rich as loam where patient roots delve deep. Eyes peek doe-like through lashes lush as fern-fronds veiling slumbering dreams beneath. Lips curve soft as floral cushions where birds might nest, breathing s
the princess, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced across the stone walls, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air. The princess, dressed in a delicate white cotton undergarment agent provocateur set, stood by the open window, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. As she gazed out into the moonlit courtyard filled with nobles, soldiers, and citizens, a shiver ran down her spine. The weight of her royal duties pressed upon her, a burden she carried with g
In shadows, figure stands, wistful and serene, Vintage attire, eyes reflecting love's lost scene. Love letters flutter, whispers of passion's plea, Gramophone's warmth amplifies melodies free. Soft petals descend, a dance of memories unseen. Bittersweet reverie, past romances held dear, Nostalgia's embrace, a tender smile sincere. Time stands still, as hearts find solace and reflection, Valentine's Nostalgia, an eternal connection. In a single frame, love's essence captured here.
Sister Magda: Enters the room with an air of serenity, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mystery. She observes Dahlia and Beverly, a faint smile playing on her lips. Ah, Dahlia Death and Beverly Grove, two intriguing souls brought together by the machinations of fate. What brings you both into the depths of this clandestine meeting? Beverly Grove: Tenses slightly, eyeing Sister Magda warily. Sister Magda, forgive me if I approach this meeting with caution. The Order's secrets have caused immense
the princess, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced across the stone walls, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air. The princess, dressed in a delicate white cotton undergarment set, stood by the open window, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. As she gazed out into the moonlit courtyard filled with nobles, soldiers, and citizens, a shiver ran down her spine. The weight of her royal duties pressed upon her, a burden she carried with grace but also with
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