Placeholder: a fleshy devil Flying Winkie Guards crying to produce ultra-sounds a fleshy devil Flying Winkie Guards crying to produce ultra-sounds

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@generalpha

Prompt

a fleshy devil Flying Winkie Guards crying to produce ultra-sounds

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

2 days ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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Under the blood red moon, they emerge— Azazel, Prince of Wrath, tall and proud, Flanked by his hounds, violent and grim. Born of flame, Azazel's skin smolders, Dark horns curl from his twisted brow, His wingspan blocks out the very stars. At his heels, the hellhounds follow, Coarse fur matted, teeth bared and snarling, Jaws that drip with sinners' blood.
[warhammer] His muscular form is defined by years of battle, and his chiseled features bear the scars of countless encounters. In his hands, Conan wields a warhammer, its weight seemingly insignificant within his mighty grasp. The weapon gleams in the sunlight, a testament to the countless foes it has crushed under its devastating blows. With every sinewy muscle flexed, Conan exudes an aura of raw power and indomitable strength.
Upon reaching Lanka, a fierce battle ensued between Ram and Ravana. The clash of their powers shook the earth, and the heavens themselves seemed to tremble. Ravana, with his ten heads and twenty arms, unleashed a torrent of dark magic and formidable weapons, seeking to overpower Ram. But Ram, armed with his divine bow and arrows, fought valiantly. His arrows pierced through the ranks of Ravana's demon army, striking fear into their hearts. With each strike, Ram displayed his mastery over divine
Infamous Azazel, demon of sacrifice, Bearer of man's sins into the wilderness - What secrets lie beneath your fearsome guise, Your twisted horns and talons sharp as knives? Perhaps you too were innocent once, cleansed By desert winds and baptismal rains. But corruption crept in, sin by sin, Until your heart as black as soot became.
Mesolithic monster with scales, horns, barrel chest teeth, fangs, hearts on the outside, soulless greek effects and with keyboard eyes
[art by Michael Kaluta] a fleshy skinned alive female devil Flying Winkie Guards shouting to produce ultra-sounds while she flies in the clouds, no dress like a devil
Under the blood red moon, they emerge— Azazel, Prince of Wrath, tall and proud, Flanked by his hounds, violent and grim. Born of flame, Azazel's skin smolders, Dark horns curl from his twisted brow, His wingspan blocks out the very stars. At his heels, the hellhounds follow, Coarse fur matted, teeth bared and snarling, Jaws that drip with sinners' blood.
The squirming tentacles of the Giant Squid coil around the Balrog, attempting to ensnare it within their slimy grasp. But the Balrog, infused with an infernal resilience, resists the suffocating embrace, its whip slashing through the water, its fiery lash searing the flesh of the cephalopod. Each strike reverberates through the cavern, a symphony of clash and sizzle. The battle rages on, the clash of elemental forces echoing through the cavern's depths. The Giant Squid, with its immense strength
. His muscular form is defined by years of battle, and his chiseled features bear the scars of countless encounters. In his hands, Conan wields a warhammer, its weight seemingly insignificant within his mighty grasp. The weapon gleams in the sunlight, a testament to the countless foes it has crushed under its devastating blows. With every sinewy muscle flexed, Conan exudes an aura of raw power and indomitable strength.
ConceptSheet [by Boris Vallejo]: woman wizard succubus and her dagger with AD&D statistics
. His muscular form is defined by years of battle, and his chiseled features bear the scars of countless encounters. In his hands, Conan wields a warhammer, its weight seemingly insignificant within his mighty grasp. The weapon gleams in the sunlight, a testament to the countless foes it has crushed under its devastating blows. With every sinewy muscle flexed, Conan exudes an aura of raw power and indomitable strength.
I am the slayer of evil and the bane of the burning hells. I went back to the darkest depths of Hell, where Lilith, the daughter of hatred, awaits me. I will not falter, I will not fear. I am the Nephalem and because of our lineage, they loved us. And because of our difference, they feared us. Our existence would forever alter the balance of power in the Great Conflict.
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