Placeholder: The studio door creaked open, and she strode in like a woodland sprite emerging from the forest mist. Long locks the color of autumn maple leaves spilled from her woven braids, bound with strips of leather dyed shades of heather and moss. Her eyes shone bright as berries beneath arched brows, keenly taking in her surroundings. Lithe and lean she stood before me, clad from neck to ankle in shadowsilk that molded itself to her athletic form. Bracers encircled wrists and forearms, supple leathers d The studio door creaked open, and she strode in like a woodland sprite emerging from the forest mist. Long locks the color of autumn maple leaves spilled from her woven braids, bound with strips of leather dyed shades of heather and moss. Her eyes shone bright as berries beneath arched brows, keenly taking in her surroundings. Lithe and lean she stood before me, clad from neck to ankle in shadowsilk that molded itself to her athletic form. Bracers encircled wrists and forearms, supple leathers d

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Prompt

The studio door creaked open, and she strode in like a woodland sprite emerging from the forest mist. Long locks the color of autumn maple leaves spilled from her woven braids, bound with strips of leather dyed shades of heather and moss. Her eyes shone bright as berries beneath arched brows, keenly taking in her surroundings. Lithe and lean she stood before me, clad from neck to ankle in shadowsilk that molded itself to her athletic form. Bracers encircled wrists and forearms, supple leathers d

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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The studio door creaked open, and she strode in like a woodland sprite emerging from the forest mist. Long locks the color of autumn maple leaves spilled from her woven braids, bound with strips of leather dyed shades of heather and moss. Her eyes shone bright as berries beneath arched brows, keenly taking in her surroundings. Lithe and lean she stood before me, clad from neck to ankle in shadowsilk that molded itself to her athletic form. Bracers encircled wrists and forearms, supple leathers d
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
[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
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
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.
[Sophie Turner] As the twin suns sank below the horizon, Sophie allowed her ragged body some respite. Perched high in the tree, she watched flickering firelight dance across the encroaching shadows of night. Its golden glow played gently across her features, casting dancing forms upon the damp bark. Her haggard complexion was etched with tracks of exhaustion and defiance in equal measure. Yet in the fire's realm, for now she seemed at peace. Wrapped snugly in the nexu's black pelt, its fur exude
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
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
[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
The Dark Lord's Granddaughter is a witch with her bloody fangs, covered by tattoos and lace agent provocateur dress [vintage style noisy scratches glitches, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed from a 1970 B series movie] in the forest in front of her Hutt with her pointed hat
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