Placeholder: 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!" Eyes shut, she summons ancient magic And feels it swell, electric, through the soil— The pentagram glowing with arcane light. 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!" Eyes shut, she summons ancient magic And feels it swell, electric, through the soil— The pentagram glowing with arcane light.

Back to Profile

@generalpha

Prompt

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!" Eyes shut, she summons ancient magic And feels it swell, electric, through the soil— The pentagram glowing with arcane light.

large hands

3 years ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SDXL

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

Similar

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!"
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 raised her voice, commanding, absolute: "Foul Azazel, you are banished, wretch accursed! Begone from mortal realms, demonic fiend. By sacred powers vested in me, goddess And guardian of departed souls, I cast Your wickedness back to hellish confines. No more shall innocence fall prey to you— For one hundred years of penance you are bound. My word is law; this sentence you shall serve.
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!"
O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul, that struggling to be free, Art more engag’d! Help, angels! Make assay: Bow, stubborn knees; and heart with strings of steel,
If mighty angels fair and tall, Each robed as priestly seneschal, On altar-suns burn incense daily, As wheel the systems to Love's sweet call, Earth's sun is sure an altar-rose, Abloom from dawn to day's bright close. The mighty angel stoops above it With pulsing wings, as it golden glows, To fan the incense-waves through space. When buds the light or folds its grace, He lifts erect his glorious stature, Kindling the sky from his ruddy face.
An unused 1990’s era idea sketch for a SANDMAN pinup: Death sewing the AIDS quilt.
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!"
"It said..." Kalypso's fingers still on your hipbone, her nails dimpling the skin as her grip tightens. "It said you were coming." She shifts closer, her breath warm against your neck. "It showed me the first time I saw you—standing in a ruined city, tearing the wings from an angel." Her silver eyes burn with the memory even in the dim temple light. "I watched from the shadows and knew you for what you were."
O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul, that struggling to be free, Art more engag’d! Help, angels! Make assay: Bow, stubborn knees; and heart with strings of steel,
[Polaroid Land Camera 1947] The Winged Victory of Samothrace, as a true Greek woman in flesh, emanates a captivating blend of strength, grace, and divine beauty. Her flowing golden hair, captivating eyes, and delicate features embody an ageless allure. Adorned in flowing garments, she spreads her wings with elegance and power, symbolizing the indomitable spirit of the Greek people. A living embodiment of Greek culture and mythology, she stands as a timeless inspiration for generations to come.
Terms of Service • Privacy Policy

© 2026 Stablecog, Inc.