FLUX.1 Prompt: AI Generated Image with prompt boring low quality snapshot low quality pictu d33rzsi5gv4kvia3dyrtqbhv 4

boring low quality snapshot, low-quality picture, realistic, age 22, tanned skin, clear face, long hair brown with blonde highlights, huge breasts, light green eyes, round ass, fit and proportionate figure, 5'4" tall, lowest quality, 1080 hd,
She stands alone in the ruins of a forgotten chapel, its stained glass shattered and moonlight spilling through like divine rebellion. Her black velvet gown clings to her frame, corset cinched tight, the neckline daring but elegant framed by lace that dances with every breath of wind.

A single candle flickers beside her on a cracked stone altar, casting golden light across her pale skin and the silver cross nestled at her throat. Her boots leather, laced to the knee rest on moss covered tiles, and her gloved fingers trace the edge of a rusted chalice as if remembering something sacred and forbidden.

Her gaze is distant, heavy-lidded, framed by smoky eyeshadow and a hint of crimson on her lips. A raven watches from the rafters above, silent witness to her quiet power. The scene hums with sensual melancholy no audience, no pretense, just her and the ghosts of the past swirling in candle smoke.

Creation Date: 7/26/2025

Face Lock: No

Face Enhance: No

Prompt

boring low quality snapshot, low-quality picture, realistic, age 22, tanned skin, clear face, long hair brown with blonde highlights, huge breasts, light green eyes, round ass, fit and proportionate figure, 5'4" tall, lowest quality, 1080 hd,
She stands alone in the ruins of a forgotten chapel, its stained glass shattered and moonlight spilling through like divine rebellion. Her black velvet gown clings to her frame, corset cinched tight, the neckline daring but elegant framed by lace that dances with every breath of wind.

A single candle flickers beside her on a cracked stone altar, casting golden light across her pale skin and the silver cross nestled at her throat. Her boots leather, laced to the knee rest on moss covered tiles, and her gloved fingers trace the edge of a rusted chalice as if remembering something sacred and forbidden.

Her gaze is distant, heavy-lidded, framed by smoky eyeshadow and a hint of crimson on her lips. A raven watches from the rafters above, silent witness to her quiet power. The scene hums with sensual melancholy no audience, no pretense, just her and the ghosts of the past swirling in candle smoke.

ModelFLUX.1 dev