Placeholder: As Dahlia Death pushed open the heavy door of the dimly lit bar, the chatter and clinking of glasses fell silent for a fleeting moment. she has pale skin and dark hair, roams unseen, clad in a black dress and hooded cape, wielding her scythe to collect souls guided by Saint Peter. She moves through Manhattan hype places, a spectral figure fulfilling her grim missions with solemn determination. In the neon-lit alleys and bustling avenues, she navigates the chaos of the modern world, a silent sent As Dahlia Death pushed open the heavy door of the dimly lit bar, the chatter and clinking of glasses fell silent for a fleeting moment. she has pale skin and dark hair, roams unseen, clad in a black dress and hooded cape, wielding her scythe to collect souls guided by Saint Peter. She moves through Manhattan hype places, a spectral figure fulfilling her grim missions with solemn determination. In the neon-lit alleys and bustling avenues, she navigates the chaos of the modern world, a silent sent

@generalpha

Prompt

As Dahlia Death pushed open the heavy door of the dimly lit bar, the chatter and clinking of glasses fell silent for a fleeting moment. she has pale skin and dark hair, roams unseen, clad in a black dress and hooded cape, wielding her scythe to collect souls guided by Saint Peter. She moves through Manhattan hype places, a spectral figure fulfilling her grim missions with solemn determination. In the neon-lit alleys and bustling avenues, she navigates the chaos of the modern world, a silent sent

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

1 year ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1280 × 720

Similar

She moves with silent grace through the old winding streets of the medieval city, a master of the arts of thieves and illusion. Clad in dark garb that blends seamlessly with the shadows for torches, her eyes gleam with a hunger for novelty and adventure. The city is the playground of her illusions and tricks, its secrets and treasures ripe for the taking. The cobblestone streets echo in the slice of the night; she remains unseen, a phantom slipping through the cracks of society.
Dahlia Death: The room is dimly lit, with a lingering sense of anticipation in the air. Dahlia Death, clad in her ethereal black robes, stands with an air of quiet authority. Beverly Grove, a determined and wary figure, enters cautiously. Dahlia Death: Raises an eyebrow Ah, Beverly Grove, I presume. Welcome to the realm of shadows and secrets. I sense the weight of your curiosity and the burden of the Order's actions upon your shoulders. Beverly Grove: Nervously adjusts her collar, meeting Dahli
a dark figure covered in a black fur-lined cloak hood drawn over her head, making her clearly not visible to anyone who might catch sight of the woman as she pulled her white-steed Nuada out of the woods and down the narrow road that leads to the pub, his hooves kicking up dust with every step as she brought him into a slow cantor, his head bobbing up and down as he neighs. She would bring him to a halt as she slid off and landed neatly on the ground.
"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."
She moves with silent grace through the winding alleyways of the medieval city, a master of the arts of thieves and illusion. Clad in dark garb that blends seamlessly with the shadows, her eyes gleam with a hunger for novelty and adventure. The city is her playground, its secrets and treasures ripe for the taking. The cobblestone streets echo with the sounds of revelry and commerce, but she remains unseen, a phantom slipping through the cracks of society.
Raven Blackthorn, haunted by her past, confronts the nobleman who betrayed her village. Her sword, a silent witness to her years of bloodshed, now thirsts for justice. In the golden light of the setting sun, she sets out on a path of vengeance, determined to unravel the web of lies that binds her. With each step, her resolve grows stronger, fueled by the fire of betrayal burning in her heart. The shadows of her past misdeeds guide her towards a reckoning with the one who manipulated her for his
the mystical vampire huntress adopts a powerful posture, her form shrouded in mystery as she stands against her foes. With an over-the-shoulder view, her bespoke warrior ensemble decorated with onyx tracery and darkness symbols shimmers under starlight, throwing spectral forms across the landscape. In this imposing Victory Position, she reveals her commanding nature through her midnight warrior garb and bearing, embodying her might and self-assurance in instances of crisis.
the pressure builds. Sister Magda, not a true nun but a leader in the Satanic group "The Order of Boniface." Uschi Digard brings her to life. In the occult book store, she blackmails Beverly Grove, the main character. Magda holds a secret that twists the story. Shadows of deceit and manipulation darken the plot. Good and evil blur. Readers question their morality. Sister Magda's power and knowledge make her formidable. Her secret adds complexity, challenging reality. The deadline approaches, the
The Dark Lord's Granddaughter is a witch with her bloody fangs, covered by tattoos and lace agent provocateur dress [vintage style noisy scratches glitches, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed from a 1970 B series movie] in the forest in front of her Hutt with her pointed hat
In the shadowed glade, where the moon cast an eerie glow, a figure emerged from the darkness. A demoness, with goat horns spiraling from her head, stood tall and proud. Her vestal linen dress stained with the blood of the sacrifice she had just made. The demoness wielded a sword, gleaming in the moonlight, a weapon of ancient power and dark intent. Her eyes, a fiery gaze that spoke of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge, surveyed the scene before her with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. The
Beware of the beautiful promises hidden behind the mask. Some promises, just like some beauty, bring nothing but sorrow, regardless of how appealing they may be.
You are a princess, in bloody agent provocateur, Tania is your name. Your magic dagger, can kill any enemy, in one bloody draw.

© 2026 Stablecog, Inc.