Because you held me tight prompts

9 months ago

A weary and sorrowful knight stands amidst the devastation of a chaotic battlefield, gripping his sword firmly with both hands in a natural and deliberate pose. The tarnished blade rests upright, its point embedded in the blood-soaked earth, the hilt held tightly in his gauntleted hands. His battered armor, weathered and dulled to an ancient patina reminiscent of Excalibur (1981), is dented, scratched, and stained with grime and dried blood. His tattered, frayed cape ripples dramatically in the faint wind, its faded colors contrasting with the grim, smoke-filled horizon. Scattered around him are the bodies of fallen soldiers, each unique in appearance and attire. The enemies vary widely: some are tall, others short; some clad in partial chainmail or leather armor, while others wear tattered cloaks or remnants of mismatched uniforms. A few bear helmets, some feature exposed faces, and others lie sprawled in broken, incomplete plate armor. The random positioning adds to the chaos—one corpse slumps over a shattered shield, another lies face down in a crater, while others sprawl awkwardly across jagged rocks. Blood pools unevenly around the battlefield, flowing into the cracks and craters, adding to the raw brutality of the scene. Above, ancestral banners flutter irregularly in the faint breeze, their unique emblems and designs contrasting with their torn and bloodstained edges. Some banners are partially burned, their poles leaning at precarious angles, while others stand upright, catching the golden light of the setting sun. The terrain itself is rugged and uneven, with jagged rocks, craters, and mounds of churned-up dirt. Shattered weapons, discarded helmets, and broken shields are scattered randomly, adding depth and realism to the desolate environment. The lighting is dynamic and cinematic, with golden sunlight breaking through the smoke, casting uneven, jagged shadows across the torn ground. The knight's face is partially obscured by his dented and dirt-streaked helm, his sorrowful expression visible through the grimy visor. Dust and ash float in the air, diffusing the light and creating a moody, textured atmosphere. Each detail—the weathered banners, the cracked armor, the scattered remnants of war—emphasizes the profound loss and heavy toll of battle.

8 months ago

A dramatic, close-up portrait of a skilled swordsman in a classic fencer’s salute, the rapier held vertically before his face with the blade gleaming in the soft, golden light of the 17th century. His gloved hand grips the ornate hilt tightly, the elegant design featuring intricate filigree and a fleur-de-lis motif. The blade is perfectly aligned with his nose, splitting his face into mirrored halves, adding a sense of symmetry and focus to the composition. The swordsman’s expression is intense yet poised, his piercing eyes gazing over the blade with a mix of respect and determination. His face is framed by shoulder-length, flowing hair cascading from beneath a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a luxurious plume. His doublet is richly embroidered with silver threads, and a vibrant sash adds a pop of color to the muted tones of his outfit. Subtle sweat beads glisten on his brow, hinting at the intensity of the duel or practice just moments before. The background fades into soft shadows, with hints of a stone courtyard and flickers of torchlight casting an atmospheric glow. The warm, diffused lighting enhances the texture of his leather gloves, the fine fabric of his doublet, and the polished steel of the rapier, creating a harmonious balance between subject and setting. For added realism: Ensure reflections on the blade show subtle distortions of the environment, and include faint wear marks on the hilt to indicate a history of use. Use cinematic lighting with soft volumetric rays to enhance depth and drama.

8 months ago

(masterpiece:1.5), (cinematic lighting:1.4), (8k, fine art:1.4), (volumetric light:1.5), (dynamic shadows:1.4), (realistic skin texture:1.5), (ethereal atmosphere:1.5) A witch with jet-black hair stands at the center of a spiraling vortex of unholy fire, its colors glowing in deep purple and electric blue. The flames twist and intertwine like the patterns of a Twister ice cream, encircling her in dense, fiery coils. The unholy flames rise in spirals, forming a dynamic, three-dimensional inferno that dances chaotically yet remains contained within the vortex. She stands in the eye of the storm, untouched by the raging inferno, her bone wand held with an aura of commanding power. The wand glows faintly with otherworldly runes that match the fiery hues. Her eyes are closed, her expression serene and fearless, as though communing with a dark force that fuels the storm. The flames radiate intense light, casting sharp highlights and complex shadows across her pale skin, emphasizing every curve and detail with realistic subsurface scattering. Embers and sparks float in the air around her, creating a chaotic but mesmerizing interplay of motion and light. The background is consumed in darkness, emphasizing the vortex's glowing presence. The storm's flames illuminate the scorched ground beneath her, and the faint volumetric haze enhances the sense of depth and mystique. The vortex spirals upward into the void, its twisting, fiery tendrils suggesting a connection to a higher, malevolent realm. Her robes are tattered and flowing, whipping around her in the intense heat and wind generated by the flames, adding to the dynamic and apocalyptic feel of the scene. Her stance is strong and unyielding, her head slightly tilted upward, embodying both elegance and untouchable power. The unholy flames twist and crackle as they encircle her in dense, spiraling coils, beginning with orange and red fire near the ground and transitioning to deep blue and electric purple as they climb higher, their glow casting flickering shadows across her form. Her expression is serious and strained, her head slightly turned to the side, her furrowed brow and parted lips conveying the immense effort required to channel such destructive power. She wears a sheer black dress with oversized, flowing sleeves that billow dramatically in the vortex’s winds. One side of the dress has slipped down her shoulder in the chaos, accentuating her curves while revealing the curve of her breast and adding a sense of raw energy and intimacy. The dress twists and flutters dynamically, amplifying the scene’s sense of motion. She grips a wand carved from a human femur, the handle adorned with skeleton fingers gripping tightly as though alive with unholy energy. Around her waist, a rope belt adorned with shrunken heads sways lightly in the vortex’s wind, their grotesque, leathery faces twisted in eternal agony. The ground beneath her feet is scorched and cracked, glowing faintly with embers. Scattered withered skulls and incomplete bones lie among the charred earth, blending seamlessly into the apocalyptic scene. In the distance behind her, partially obscured by the flickering flames, hanged bodies dangle upside down from their feet, their silhouettes faint and distorted by the heat of the vortex. The eerie sight adds a macabre depth to the atmosphere, their forms barely visible through the haze and unholy fire. The vortex rises upward, dense and hypnotic, its chaotic motion pulsing with energy, casting volumetric light through the smoky, ash-filled air. The atmosphere is alive with glowing embers, drifting ash, and the faint echoes of crackling flames. The entire scene exudes raw, unrelenting power and destruction, with the witch at its center as the embodiment of chaos and terror.

5 months ago

Inside a dimly lit canvas tent, tension fills the air. Nader Shah Afshar, now 60 years old, stands firm, his nearly white and black beard illuminated by the flickering light. He wears his royal crimson robe, embroidered with gold, slightly unsettled from movement. In his grip, the hilt of his sword is steady, its blade reflecting the dim glow. Four soldiers, dressed in black Arabian-style robes, storm into the tent. Their faces are shadowed, their weapons—swords and daggers—held tightly, ready for battle. The entrance of the tent remains open behind them, allowing the cold night air to seep in. Shadows stretch and shift across the canvas walls as the confrontation begins, the moment charged with silent tension before the inevitable clash

5 months ago

Inside a dimly lit canvas tent, tension fills the air. Nader Shah Afshar, now 60 years old, stands firm, his nearly white beard illuminated by the flickering light. He wears his royal crimson robe, embroidered with gold, slightly unsettled from movement. In his grip, the hilt of his sword is steady, its blade reflecting the dim glow. Four soldiers, dressed in black Arabian-style robes, storm into the tent. Their faces are shadowed, their weapons—swords and daggers—held tightly, ready for battle. The entrance of the tent remains open behind them, allowing the cold night air to seep in. Shadows stretch and shift across the canvas walls as the confrontation begins, the moment charged with silent tension before the inevitable clash

5 months ago

Inside a dimly lit canvas tent, tension fills the air. Nader Shah Afshar, now 60 years old, stands firm, his nearly white beard illuminated by the flickering light. He wears his royal crimson robe, embroidered with gold, slightly unsettled from movement. In his grip, the hilt of his sword is steady, its blade reflecting the dim glow. Four soldiers, dressed in black Arabian-style robes, storm into the tent. Their faces are shadowed, their weapons—swords and daggers—held tightly, ready for battle. The entrance of the tent remains open behind them, allowing the cold night air to seep in. Shadows stretch and shift across the canvas walls as the confrontation begins, the moment charged with silent tension before the inevitable clash

3 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo of Heart and soul I fell in love with you. The way a fool would do, Madly, Because you held me tight, And stole a kiss there in the night. I beg to be adored. Yes, and I lost control And tumbled overboard, Gladly. That magic night we kissed Oh, we kissed, There in the moon mist. Oh, but your lips were thrilling, Much too much too thrilling, Never before were mine so Strangely willing. Darling, and now I see What one embrace can do, Come on and look at me You've got me loving you, Madly, That little kiss you stole All my heart and soul. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. No poorly formed fingers, no extra arms, no extra legs, no extra fingers, no poorly formed hands, no poorly drawn body, no poorly drawn teeth, no bad anatomy.

3 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo of Heart and soul I fell in love with you. The way a fool would do, Madly, Because you held me tight, And stole a kiss there in the night. I beg to be adored. Yes, and I lost control And tumbled overboard, Gladly. That magic night we kissed Oh, we kissed, There in the moon mist. Oh, but your lips were thrilling, Much too much too thrilling, Never before were mine so Strangely willing. Darling, and now I see What one embrace can do, Come on and look at me You've got me loving you, Madly, That little kiss you stole All my heart and soul. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. No poorly formed fingers, no extra arms, no extra legs, no extra fingers, no poorly formed hands, no poorly drawn body, no poorly drawn teeth, no bad anatomy.

3 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo of Heart and soul I fell in love with you. The way a fool would do, Madly, Because you held me tight, And stole a kiss there in the night. I beg to be adored. Yes, and I lost control And tumbled overboard, Gladly. That magic night we kissed Oh, we kissed, There in the moon mist. Oh, but your lips were thrilling, Much too much too thrilling, Never before were mine so Strangely willing. Darling, and now I see What one embrace can do, Come on and look at me You've got me loving you, Madly, That little kiss you stole All my heart and soul. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. No poorly formed fingers, no extra arms, no extra legs, no extra fingers, no poorly formed hands, no poorly drawn body, no poorly drawn teeth, no bad anatomy.

3 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo of Heart and soul I fell in love with you. The way a fool would do, Madly, Because you held me tight, And stole a kiss there in the night. I beg to be adored. Yes, and I lost control And tumbled overboard, Gladly. That magic night we kissed Oh, we kissed, There in the moon mist. Oh, but your lips were thrilling, Much too much too thrilling, Never before were mine so Strangely willing. Darling, and now I see What one embrace can do, Come on and look at me You've got me loving you, Madly, That little kiss you stole All my heart and soul. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. No poorly formed fingers, no extra arms, no extra legs, no extra fingers, no poorly formed hands, no poorly drawn body, no poorly drawn teeth, no bad anatomy.

3 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo of Heart and soul I fell in love with you. The way a fool would do, Madly, Because you held me tight, And stole a kiss there in the night. I beg to be adored. Yes, and I lost control And tumbled overboard, Gladly. That magic night we kissed Oh, we kissed, There in the moon mist. Oh, but your lips were thrilling, Much too much too thrilling, Never before were mine so Strangely willing. Darling, and now I see What one embrace can do, Come on and look at me You've got me loving you, Madly, That little kiss you stole All my heart and soul. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. No poorly formed fingers, no extra arms, no extra legs, no extra fingers, no poorly formed hands, no poorly drawn body, no poorly drawn teeth, no bad anatomy.

3 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo of Heart and soul I fell in love with you. The way a fool would do, Madly, Because you held me tight, And stole a kiss there in the night. I beg to be adored. Yes, and I lost control And tumbled overboard, Gladly. That magic night we kissed Oh, we kissed, There in the moon mist. Oh, but your lips were thrilling, Much too much too thrilling, Never before were mine so Strangely willing. Darling, and now I see What one embrace can do, Come on and look at me You've got me loving you, Madly, That little kiss you stole All my heart and soul. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. No poorly formed fingers, no extra arms, no extra legs, no extra fingers, no poorly formed hands, no poorly drawn body, no poorly drawn teeth, no bad anatomy.

9 months ago

A heroic figure dressed in a bright yellow suit, once confident and strong, now sits helplessly bound to a chair, his hands and feet tightly secured with thick ropes. The suit still retains its sleek and form-fitting design, but now it looks slightly disheveled, reflecting the struggle he endured. The white mask, usually a symbol of authority and mystery, remains on his face, but there's a sense of vulnerability in his posture. The hero’s eyes are wide and filled with defiance, though tinged with frustration and anger. His body is slightly slumped, as the tension from being tied to the chair is evident in his stiff posture. Cracks in the floor suggest he’s used his earth manipulation abilities in an attempt to break free, but the restraints have held him back for now. His arms are bound tightly to the arms of the chair, and his legs are strapped, leaving him immobile. The background is dark and shadowy, with the room dimly lit by a single overhead light that casts long shadows over the walls. There’s a sense of foreboding in the atmosphere, as if something sinister is looming. The air is heavy with tension, and small, flickering sparks hint at his powers still raging within him, barely contained. Despite his restraints, there’s a strong sense of willpower in his eyes, as he refuses to be broken. The contrast between his bright yellow suit and the dark, oppressive surroundings highlights his isolation and vulnerability, making the moment feel like a dramatic turnaround for the usually confident and powerful hero.

9 months ago

A heroic figure dressed in a bright yellow suit, once confident and strong, now sits helplessly bound to a chair, his hands and feet tightly secured with thick ropes. The suit still retains its sleek and form-fitting design, but now it looks slightly disheveled, reflecting the struggle he endured. The white mask, usually a symbol of authority and mystery, remains on his face, but there's a sense of vulnerability in his posture. The hero’s eyes are wide and filled with defiance, though tinged with frustration and anger. His body is slightly slumped, as the tension from being tied to the chair is evident in his stiff posture. Cracks in the floor suggest he’s used his earth manipulation abilities in an attempt to break free, but the restraints have held him back for now. His arms are bound tightly to the arms of the chair, and his legs are strapped, leaving him immobile. The background is dark and shadowy, with the room dimly lit by a single overhead light that casts long shadows over the walls. There’s a sense of foreboding in the atmosphere, as if something sinister is looming. The air is heavy with tension, and small, flickering sparks hint at his powers still raging within him, barely contained. Despite his restraints, there’s a strong sense of willpower in his eyes, as he refuses to be broken. The contrast between his bright yellow suit and the dark, oppressive surroundings highlights his isolation and vulnerability, making the moment feel like a dramatic turnaround for the usually confident and powerful hero.

5 months ago

POV first-person perspective, I stand firm, my sword gripped tightly in my hand, its blade catching the dim light as I face four attacking soldiers. The weapon is clearly visible in the frame, held with precision, its sharp edge raised for battle. My stance is aggressive, ready to strike. I wear the royal warrior attire of Nader Shah Afshar—a richly embroidered crimson silk robe, adorned with intricate Persian gold-threaded motifs. Beneath it, a dark wool tunic clings to my body, slightly creased from rest, and a thick black sash wraps tightly around my waist. An ornate belt hangs from my side, with a dagger tucked in, ready if needed. Before me, four soldiers lunge forward, their weapons drawn—two wielding swords, two gripping daggers. Their black robes flow with their movements, their attacks swift and ruthless. Our blades clash, sparks flying as steel meets steel. The flickering firelight behind them casts long, distorted shadows across the tent walls, adding to the chaos of battle. The air is thick with tension, the scent of oil, dust, and sweat mingling as the fight intensifies. I strike, they counter. They advance, I stand my ground. The clash of weapons fills the night, and in this moment, only one thing matters—survival.

17 days ago

Full-body view of a proud female warrior stands in a dynamic pose, brandishing a gleaming sword. She wears a tight, dark blue dress that accentuates her athletic figure, with a flowing red sash around her waist. Her long, tousled hair is pulled back, held back by a red, ornate bandana. She stands barefoot. The background is dark, creating a dramatic contrast that highlights the elegant shine of the sword.

17 days ago

Full-body view of a proud female warrior stands in a dynamic pose, brandishing a gleaming sword. She wears a tight, dark blue dress that accentuates her athletic figure, with a flowing red sash around her waist. Her long, tousled hair is pulled back, held back by a red, ornate bandana. She stands barefoot. The background is dark, creating a dramatic contrast that highlights the elegant shine of the sword.

9 months ago

Two male Chinese criminals strong wearing compressive cycling shorts in light navy color in day time in Hong Kong. Shorts more tight. They are under arrest seated outdoor under natural lights. They raised their hands above their heads. Realistic. Detailed facial expression. Clearer eyes. 8k . More natural. More natural facial expression. Policemen held their hands above their heads. Their hands are tied by handcuffs.

9 months ago

A hyper-realistic portrait of a female angel character with ivory skin and long, crimson hair, styled with tight braids and a high bun. She has small, ornate wings sprouting from her temples and sharp, sapphire blue eyes with a direct gaze. Her facial expression is determined yet kind. She wears a structured, sleeveless white vest that reads "TRUTH BRINGER" across the back. Her body has a muscular, powerful build, with clear definition, and her arms are held slightly out from her sides. The angel character has small, golden geometric patterns on her body, adding to her divine presence. The background is a structured white temple with soft lighting and intricate carvings. The texture of the outfit should be smooth and sturdy, resembling leather or heavy cotton. Her wings and skin display a polished texture.

5 months ago

POV first-person perspective, I grip my sword firmly in my hand, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. The weapon is raised, held steady, its sharp edge pointed directly at the approaching soldiers. The sword is clearly visible in the frame, a symbol of both my power and my readiness for battle. I am dressed in the royal warrior attire of Nader Shah Afshar—a richly embroidered crimson silk robe, adorned with intricate Persian gold-threaded motifs. Beneath it, a dark wool tunic clings to my body, slightly creased from rest, and a thick black sash wraps tightly around my waist. An ornate belt hangs from my side, with a dagger tucked in, ready if needed. Before me, four soldiers advance, their weapons drawn—two wielding swords, two gripping daggers. Their movements are sharp, aggressive, their intent unmistakable. The flickering light of a distant fire casts shifting shadows across their faces, making their expressions unreadable but their hostility clear. The air is heavy with the scent of oil and fabric. Outside, the wind rustles the canvas walls of the tent, but my focus is locked on the soldiers before me. My stance is strong, poised for attack. The moment of battle is upon us, and there is no turning back.