Placeholder: heroic fantasy scene: he looks upon the fallen bodies of her foes, her gaze filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. The memories of her sisters, her mother, and Xho, the ones she could not protect, weigh heavily on her soul. Their faces flash before her eyes, their voices whispering in her ears, a constant reminder of the pain she carries. With her sword in hand and her heart set on her goal, Zhaania embraces the reality that her journey may lead her to the brink of her own mortality. The heroic fantasy scene: he looks upon the fallen bodies of her foes, her gaze filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. The memories of her sisters, her mother, and Xho, the ones she could not protect, weigh heavily on her soul. Their faces flash before her eyes, their voices whispering in her ears, a constant reminder of the pain she carries. With her sword in hand and her heart set on her goal, Zhaania embraces the reality that her journey may lead her to the brink of her own mortality. The

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@generalpha

Prompt

heroic fantasy scene: he looks upon the fallen bodies of her foes, her gaze filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. The memories of her sisters, her mother, and Xho, the ones she could not protect, weigh heavily on her soul. Their faces flash before her eyes, their voices whispering in her ears, a constant reminder of the pain she carries. With her sword in hand and her heart set on her goal, Zhaania embraces the reality that her journey may lead her to the brink of her own mortality. The

statue, 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

8 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

896 × 1120

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heroic fantasy scene: he looks upon the fallen bodies of her foes, her gaze filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. The memories of her sisters, her mother, and Xho, the ones she could not protect, weigh heavily on her soul. Their faces flash before her eyes, their voices whispering in her ears, a constant reminder of the pain she carries. With her sword in hand and her heart set on her goal, Zhaania embraces the reality that her journey may lead her to the brink of her own mortality. The
With a deep breath, dearie Fiona let herself be embraced by the water's embrace, her form becoming one with its liquid embrace. The feeling was ethereal, as if the lake itself was a conduit to another realm. She glided with a fluid grace, her movements a reflection of the dance she and Deery had shared in the forest. As the water enveloped her, Fiona's hair fanned out like strands of moonlit silver, creating an otherworldly halo around her. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a natural radiance
For centuries, the Keeper had stood guard, a silent witness to the passage of time, to the rise and fall of empires, to the fleeting nature of mortality. Yet, in this moment, as the petals danced like flames in the darkness, the Keeper felt a stirring within the void of his chest—a whisper of something that felt like sorrow, or perhaps, longing.
Sabrina was a sight to behold, with long black hair flowing like ink as she moved. Her eyes seemed to glow an otherworldly crimson under the stage lights. Whispers spread that she was no ordinary woman - they said she was the offspring of Satan himself. As she sang, her voice carried a hypnotic power that wrapped around your mind and refused to let go. The crowd screamed the lyrics along with her, lost in the music's spell. All tension and worries melted away as bodies collided in the mosh pit.
Fantasy_royalist_woman_on_rocks
With a deep breath, dearie Fiona let herself be embraced by the water's embrace, her form becoming one with its liquid embrace. The feeling was ethereal, as if the lake itself was a conduit to another realm. She glided with a fluid grace, her movements a reflection of the dance she and Deery had shared in the forest. As the water enveloped her, Fiona's hair fanned out like strands of moonlit silver, creating an otherworldly halo around her. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a natural radiance
Dahlia arrived with her scythe at the cemetery, told the taxi driver to wait, and went to find her target. Azazel was waiting for her, at the very end of the cemetery. Dahlia had not seen Azazel for long, maybe two or three centuries, but she remembered how perverted and violent he could be. She ensured her grasp on her scythe, and started to walk to him, step after step. Dahlia wondered how many hellhounds he could have with him.
Amid the ruins of a forgotten throne room, she sits—her armor glinting softly in the dim light, her crimson hair cascading like a river of blood. The battle is over, the echoes of clashing steel fading into silence. A skeletal relic lies at her side, draped in a tattered cloak, a reminder of the foes she has vanquished and the path she has walked. Her gaze is distant, as if looking beyond the crumbling walls to a destiny still unfolding. In this moment of rest, she is caught between the warrior
The air is crisp, infused with the scent of blooming flowers and the promise of new beginnings.In this awe-inspiring view, we witness Ostara, resplendent in her ethereal form, standing amidst a lush meadow. The grass beneath her bare feet shivers. From the smallest blades of grass to the towering trees, each living entity joins in this symphony of praise for the Earth. The flowers burst forth in vibrant colors, their petals unfurling like delicate brushstrokes upon nature's canvas. The trees swa
With a deep breath, dearie Fiona let herself be embraced by the water's embrace, her form becoming one with its liquid embrace. The feeling was ethereal, as if the lake itself was a conduit to another realm. She glided with a fluid grace, her movements a reflection of the dance she and Deery had shared in the forest. As the water enveloped her, Fiona's hair fanned out like strands of moonlit silver, creating an otherworldly halo around her. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a natural radiance
The air is crisp, infused with the scent of blooming flowers and the promise of new beginnings.In this awe-inspiring view, we witness Ostara, resplendent in her ethereal form, standing amidst a lush meadow. The grass beneath her bare feet shivers. From the smallest blades of grass to the towering trees, each living entity joins in this symphony of praise for the Earth. The flowers burst forth in vibrant colors, their petals unfurling like delicate brushstrokes upon nature's canvas. The trees swa
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.
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