Placeholder: [Yoshitaka Amano] God/Deicide [Yoshitaka Amano] God/Deicide

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Prompt

[Yoshitaka Amano] God/Deicide

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

Similar

[Yoshitaka Amano] God/Deicide
"What evil have you wrought?" asks Dahlia, Her voice cutting through the still night air. "More innocent blood on your hands I see." Azazel grins, teeth glinting in the shadows. "Who are you to judge my actions, O hooded one? Your scythe is not my concern."
Berserk, Luther Strode (2020) By Tradd Moore
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.
God/Deicide
[art by Esteban Maroto] God/Deicide
God/Deicide
[art by Michael Kaluta] A pale demonic woman, draped in billowing white robes that whisper like ghosts, stands with black curved horns reaching skyward. Her delicate face, adorned with carmine lips, exudes a silent melody of sorrow and power. Intricately detailed and complex, she embodies contradictions of delicacy and strength, nightmarish yet ethereal. With each graceful step, she leaves ripples in reality, surrounded by swirling eldritch energies that mirror her unearthly nature.
"Enlighten me then," Dahlia counters, Gripping her scythe, ready to mete out justice. Azazel only snarls, ancient evil in his eyes. So beneath the watchful gaze of nebulae, Angel and demon face off once again— An eternal dance between life and death.
At this Azazel lets out a maniacal laugh, Full of malice, empty of remorse or care. "You know nothing of my grand design!" "Enlighten me then," Dahlia counters, Gripping her scythe, ready to mete out justice. Azazel only snarls, ancient evil in his eyes.
Dahlia shakes her head, unfazed, and states— "Your hubris I cannot allow to spread. Though demons vie for power, I guard the just." A look then passes, knowing, between two— One seeks chaos, the other harmony. An eternal clash of light and dark ensues.
Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!"

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