Placeholder: Plague demon rampage Plague demon rampage

@generalpha

Prompt

Plague demon rampage

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

7 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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Plague demon rampage
Seeing no weakness, Azazel snarls in rage— "Fool! Know you not the powers you trifle with?" And with that, in smoke and flame, he departs. Dahlia watches, waiting for their next bout— An endless clash of dark and light continues, And she, a stalwart guardian, abides.
Deep within the forsaken crypts, The Demon’s Warden stands as the final barrier between darkness and ruin. Clad in unholy armor, her crimson cloak billows through the dank corridors, her twin blades gleaming with the light of long-forgotten power. Before her, a swarm of feral demons snarls and claws, but they dare not advance. Her helm, adorned with the curved horns of a conquered beast, hides the scars of a thousand battles. She is the keeper of this ancient prison, cursed to guard its depths f
Seeing no weakness, Azazel snarls in rage— "Fool! Know you not the powers you trifle with?" And with that, in smoke and flame, he departs. Dahlia watches, waiting for their next bout— An endless clash of dark and light continues, And she, a stalwart guardian, abides.
The Beast, a towering monstrosity with eyes that glow like the fires of the underworld, is said to be the embodiment of an ancient curse. With horns that twist like the roots of ancient trees and fur as dark as the night, it strikes terror into all who dare to wander into its domain. Its massive, gnarled limbs crush the earth beneath it, and its breath, a cold fog, brings an unnatural chill to the air.
Seeing no weakness, Azazel snarls in rage— "Fool! Know you not the powers you trifle with?" And with that, in smoke and flame, he departs. Dahlia watches, waiting for their next bout— An endless clash of dark and light continues, And she, a stalwart guardian, abides.
Moth Man, a mysterious figure shrouded in darkness, emerges once more from the depths of the unknown. With a wingspan that stretches eight thousand feet, this enigmatic creature haunts the night with its piercing red eyes that seem to burn with foreboding. Mothman, they call it, the harbinger of impending tragedy. Whispers of its existence have resurfaced, spreading like wildfire through the depths of human consciousness. Is it merely a product of mass hysteria, a figment of the collective imagi
The warrior entered the cavern in hopes of finding the Sword of the Obsidian Flame. After defeating countless lava elementals, he finally finds one in the remains of a fallen foe.
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.
The Beast, a towering monstrosity with eyes that glow like the fires of the underworld, is said to be the embodiment of an ancient curse. With horns that twist like the roots of ancient trees and fur as dark as the night, it strikes terror into all who dare to wander into its domain. Its massive, gnarled limbs crush the earth beneath it, and its breath, a cold fog, brings an unnatural chill to the air.
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.
Bakasura The Man Eater

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