Placeholder: For where weary nymph once rested, now a vision lies that puts the dawn's blush to shame. Fiona lounges 'mid glades of greenery and bronze, clad in whispers of silk that beg exploration's hand. Lace trails o'er curves lithe as ivy stems, blessing glimpses of fruits no tongue dare name. And oh, those locks - like streams of smoothest onyx they pool, spilling from braids wrought fierce as heather brawling 'gainst the stone. Wild contrasts to the blooms now bared where shadow plays, sweetly tauntin For where weary nymph once rested, now a vision lies that puts the dawn's blush to shame. Fiona lounges 'mid glades of greenery and bronze, clad in whispers of silk that beg exploration's hand. Lace trails o'er curves lithe as ivy stems, blessing glimpses of fruits no tongue dare name. And oh, those locks - like streams of smoothest onyx they pool, spilling from braids wrought fierce as heather brawling 'gainst the stone. Wild contrasts to the blooms now bared where shadow plays, sweetly tauntin

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Prompt

For where weary nymph once rested, now a vision lies that puts the dawn's blush to shame. Fiona lounges 'mid glades of greenery and bronze, clad in whispers of silk that beg exploration's hand. Lace trails o'er curves lithe as ivy stems, blessing glimpses of fruits no tongue dare name. And oh, those locks - like streams of smoothest onyx they pool, spilling from braids wrought fierce as heather brawling 'gainst the stone. Wild contrasts to the blooms now bared where shadow plays, sweetly tauntin

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

1 year ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

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For where weary nymph once rested, now a vision lies that puts the dawn's blush to shame. Fiona lounges 'mid glades of greenery and bronze, clad in whispers of silk that beg exploration's hand. Lace trails o'er curves lithe as ivy stems, blessing glimpses of fruits no tongue dare name. And oh, those locks - like streams of smoothest onyx they pool, spilling from braids wrought fierce as heather brawling 'gainst the stone. Wild contrasts to the blooms now bared where shadow plays, sweetly tauntin
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
But it's the eyes that own me soul entire, peridots bright as the first blooms of spring. They see me shutter's hunger and kinda grant permission, urging me deeper into this dance of deadline and desire. So come, my woodland temptress - let me drink my fill before the world's call drags me back to truer day. I am your willing subject in this hallowed glade... now show me real magic, my Fae queen, and I shall capture it always!
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
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
Reflections at Journey's End The glade fades into memory as duty's summons draw me outward once again. Beneath emerald bowers I linger yet, senses drinking deep of forest's balms before steel shell enfolds this pilgrim soul. Fiona stands beside, eyes shining bright as any noon with care and solace rendering parting bittersweet. Her touch upon an alloy bough reminds of glades left greening in my soul's safe hold. "Duty calls you, yet the glade remains - as does its spirit guiding your true course
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.
faerie young woman, Through the thick woods you stride, their splendor profound,Senses awash with grandeur, emotions tightly wound.Leaving home and loved ones, a painful farewell,But vengeance ignites within, a tale to tell.Determined you stand, seeking justice for your guide,Embarking on a journey where fate will decide.Thrills course through your veins, uncertainty in the air,A mix of emotions, a blend beyond compare.
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
Reflections at Journey's End The glade fades into memory as duty's summons draw me outward once again. Beneath emerald bowers I linger yet, senses drinking deep of forest's balms before steel shell enfolds this pilgrim soul. Fiona stands beside, eyes shining bright as any noon with care and solace rendering parting bittersweet. Her touch upon an alloy bough reminds of glades left greening in my soul's safe hold. "Duty calls you, yet the glade remains - as does its spirit guiding your true course
In the murky depths of a swamp shrouded in mist and mystery, a lone figure stood amidst the tangled roots and twisted vines. Her curly hair tangled with swamp foliage, her attire now a blend of earthy tones and camouflage material, blending seamlessly with the murky surroundings. The woman's eyes were closed, as if in deep contemplation, her tattooed arm a stark contrast against the backdrop of the swamp.
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