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    An adult woman, {A professional luxurious and expensive  photo of a mediterranean woman, with black hair  and a Criss-Cross Braids hairstyle, wearing glasses, A worn, weary cosmonaut, clad in a tattered, orange spacesuit, sits cross-legged on the dusty floor of a long-abandoned dream journal library, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of ancient, leather-bound tomes, their pages yellowed with age, and strange, glowing orbs that flicker with an ethereal light, casting an otherworldly glow on the desolate landscape outside, where the ruins of a once-great city stretch towards the horizon, a testament to the planet's mysterious, forgotten past. The cosmonaut's helmet lies beside them, revealing a rugged, weathered face, with a strong jawline, and piercing blue eyes that seem to hold a deep sadness, as they carefully transcribe their thoughts, and the secrets of the planet, into a worn, black journal, the only sound being the soft scratch of their pen, and the creaking of the old, wooden shelves, as the wind whispers through the empty halls, carrying the whispers of the past, and the cosmonaut's own, desperate hopes, for rescue, and redemption., 
, calm pond in birch forest, detailed background
    Prompt

    An adult woman, {A professional luxurious and expensive photo of a mediterranean woman, with black hair and a Criss-Cross Braids hairstyle, wearing glasses, A worn, weary cosmonaut, clad in a tattered, orange spacesuit, sits cross-legged on the dusty floor of a long-abandoned dream journal library, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of ancient, leather-bound tomes, their pages yellowed with age, and strange, glowing orbs that flicker with an ethereal light, casting an otherworldly glow on the desolate landscape outside, where the ruins of a once-great city stretch towards the horizon, a testament to the planet's mysterious, forgotten past. The cosmonaut's helmet lies beside them, revealing a rugged, weathered face, with a strong jawline, and piercing blue eyes that seem to hold a deep sadness, as they carefully transcribe their thoughts, and the secrets of the planet, into a worn, black journal, the only sound being the soft scratch of their pen, and the creaking of the old, wooden shelves, as the wind whispers through the empty halls, carrying the whispers of the past, and the cosmonaut's own, desperate hopes, for rescue, and redemption., , calm pond in birch forest, detailed background

    Generation Settings

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    Created with
    AUTOMATIC1111
    CFG Scale1.5
    Sampler
    lcm
    Seed594601079479283
    Steps16
    Negative Prompt

    watermark, text, simple background

    Copies the original metadata text embedded by AUTOMATIC1111.

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    Created
    7/24/2025
    Source
    CivitAI
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