A sample prompt of what you can find in this page
Prompt by ElectricL

This is not a confrontation prompts

very few results

8 months ago

Abstract Full-Body Portrait of a Prostitute – Salvador Dalí (Late-Life Style, Singular Focus & Pure Surrealism) (Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.

6 months ago

A woman in warrior attire holds a sword in a blurry background. In the foreground, a woman with dark hair and blue eyes, presumed to be Xena, is depicted in a warrior costume. She wears a dark leather corset adorned with metallic gold embellishments covering her chest and shoulders. A brown leather skirt with circular leather pieces hanging loosely from it also features some metallic accents. Armbands with gold scrollwork are visible on her upper and forearms. She is holding a sword horizontally in her right hand, positioned close to the lower-left corner of the frame, with the blade pointing diagonally upwards. The woman's mouth is slightly open, and she appears to be looking intensely off-camera to the right with a determined expression, suggesting action or alertness. Behind her, the background is blurred, showing hints of other figures. One person is partially visible on the left, wearing a dark red or maroon robe or cape and some form of headwear that appears metallic or helmet-like. Their legs are visible in dark trousers and boots. This blurry background creates a sense of depth and implies a scene with other people, possibly in a historical or fantasy setting. The ground appears to be dusty or sandy. The lighting illuminates the woman's face and hair, with highlights suggesting a bright light source, possibly sunlight. The overall atmosphere feels dramatic and action-oriented, consistent with a warrior theme. The mood is serious and focused, conveying a sense of readiness or engagement in a confrontation.

3 months ago

Hyper-realistic ultra-high-definition panoramic collage of iconic cinematic styles, blending epic fantasy, sci-fi, superhero, and cartoon universes into one breathtaking mural. Wonder Woman rises from the ashes on rocky ground with a stern look, beside a ghostly Phantom Hunter with spectral claws and glowing eyes. A steampunk knight in enchanted armor with a fiery sword confronts a dragon, while a red-haired Viking warrior queen in golden armor leads her sisters on a stormy cliff. Nearby, the Joker in his vibrant red suit triumphantly raises his fists in a gritty New York alley, while Spider-Man, adorned with glowing runes, battles in a cosmic, anime-inspired scene. Optimus Prime appears as a space cowboy bounty hunter in weathered cybernetic armor, his plasma revolver gleaming. Cleopatra reclines regally on her golden barge under the Egyptian sun, while a stormtrooper surveys a war-torn alien battlefield. Maui, the demigod, towers heroically on volcanic rock as waves crash behind him. Catwoman strikes a noir-style pose, while a fire dancer with glowing claws spins in flowing red robes. A mysterious assassin in a suit holds a chrome-plated gun in a neon cityscape, contrasted by playful Disney and cartoon icons: Minnie Mouse weeping in the shadows, Mickey Mouse walking on Ipanema beach, Donald Duck in a Las Vegas casino, Scrooge Tom in graffiti pop-art style, and a whimsical shark in sneakers smiling at the ocean. A cyberpunk Japanese girl with dragon horns and tattoos stands among neon dragons, while anime heroines in vibrant colors mix seamlessly with the scene. The entire collage is cinematic, airbrushed acrylic poster style, glowing with vivid colors, surreal lighting, and extreme detail, capturing the magic, drama, and joy of movies across every genre.

7 months ago

"The Colossus Beneath the Desert" – (Primary Subject: Titanic Buried Giant Stirring Beneath Sand Dunes, 1.7 weight) — deep in an endless, wind-scoured desert, a vast ancient colossus lies half-submerged beneath dunes of golden sand, its face cracked and weathered, sculpted from stone and bone. One glowing eye now flickers to life for the first time in ten thousand years, casting a pillar of blue light through the dust-choked sky. It is waking. The scale is impossible—ridges of sand ripple for miles outward with each breath it takes. What appears to be mountains on the horizon are the curved tips of its buried fingers, slowly flexing. Its ribs form deep canyons, home to temples built by forgotten civilizations who once worshipped it as god, jailer, and weapon. Above it, a caravan of nomads has stopped. Their camels rear back in fear. The elders whisper old songs once thought metaphor. A solitary figure in ceremonial robes walks toward the eye, chanting in forgotten tongues, holding a staff that glows faintly in resonance. This is not a confrontation. It is a negotiation. The sky roils with duststorms, lit orange and violet by the setting sun. Shadows stretch long across the sand, wrapping the moment in mythic stillness. Massive stone anklets and rune-bound chains anchor the colossus deep below—their glyphs eroded, weakened. A sandstorm gathers behind it, as if the world resists its rising. Its skin is made of layered strata and fossilized memory, carved with glowing runes that flicker like fault lines. When it exhales, the wind shifts continents. Its breath is heavy with salt, iron, and ancient sound. The desert listens. Rendered in epic cinematic realism, with sweeping scale, warm atmospheric tones, and deep contrast between golden sand, cold stone, and glowing eyes. Shot through a dusty anamorphic lens, grain visible in the low sun, with volumetric light shafts and wide mythic framing. Think Dune x Dark Souls x ancient Mesopotamian apocalypse (monumental visual drama, 1.4 weight).

8 months ago

(Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.

3 months ago

Iron Fists en armure "Tactical Dreadnought Armor" jaune : Image digitale hyperréaliste, mêlant peinture académique classique et illustration. Armure "Tactical Dreadnought Armor" : Couleur principale : jaune éclatant et doré, typique des Iron Fists, avec une finition légèrement patinée et usée, témoignant de nombreuses batailles. Ornements et détails métalliques : dorés chauds, brillants sur les bordures, sur les symboles et gravures, avec des reflets subtils pour accentuer le relief. Symbole caractéristique du chapitre : le poing fermé, en relief finement sculpté et gravé sur l’épaulette gauche, d’un doré éclatant avec des reflets métalliques, puissant et imposant. L’aigle impérial doré sur la poitrine, sculpté en bas-relief, mettant en avant la fidélité et la puissance impériale. Runique bleue électrique gravée sur certaines plaques d’armure, symbolisant les pouvoirs mystiques et la connexion spirituelle du chapitre. Marques d’usure, impacts, rayures et traces de combats réels, dispersées sur l’armure pour accentuer le réalisme et l’expérience du vétéran. Textures & éclairage : Peau visible (visage, mains) avec un niveau de détails extrême : pores, cicatrices, veines subtiles, rendant la chair humaine tangible et authentique. Textures variées des matériaux : métal poli et patiné, cuir vieilli, tissu renforcé, chaque texture traitée avec un réalisme poussé. Palette riche et saturée : jaune doré dominant, doré chaud, rouges profonds en accents sur les symboles secondaires, et bleu métallique électrique pour les runes. Éclairage fort et contrasté mettant en valeur la masse imposante de l’armure, la stature colossale du marine et la puissance intimidante dégagée. Composition & ambiance : Posture dynamique et théâtrale, mélange de puissance brute et de maîtrise sensuelle, prête à la confrontation. Fond sombre et épique, avec des éclats lumineux rappelant un champ de bataille spatial, poussière cosmique et énergies psioniques en suspension.

2 months ago

Image Aesthetics: Style: A hyperrealistic, high-fashion, avant-garde beauty portrait. Color: Masterful black and white (monochromatic). The image must have an extremely high dynamic range, featuring deep, velvety blacks, brilliant whites, and a full spectrum of smooth gray mid-tones. Subject Description: Person: A striking beautiful east asian woman with flawless skin and perfectly symmetrical facial features, including high cheekbones and a strong jawline. Hair: Her hair is completely pulled back from her face in a severe and sleek, tight bun or ponytail, emphasizing the clean lines of her face and bone structure. Makeup: The makeup is impeccable, dramatic, and a core feature of the portrait: Bold, perfectly sculpted eyebrows. Intense, smoky, cat-eye makeup. Full, perfectly defined lips painted with a dark, matte lipstick that appears almost black in the monochrome conversion. Composition and Pose: Composition: A tight, perfectly centered, and symmetrical head-and-shoulders shot. The composition is direct and confrontational. Pose: The woman faces the camera head-on, with her chin level. Expression: Her expression is powerful, intense, and confident. She holds a direct, piercing, and unwavering gaze with the camera. Lighting (The Most Critical Element): Technique: The lighting is the defining element, using a high-contrast, hard light source with a gobo (a "go-between" or stencil) to create a specific shadow pattern. Pattern: A single, sharp-edged, vertical bar of brilliant light is projected directly down the center of the woman's face. Effect: This central column of light illuminates only the very middle of her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her lips, her chin, and a narrow strip down her neck. The sides of her face, her cheeks, jaw, and the sides of her neck are plunged into deep, dramatic shadow. Background Lighting: The background is a simple, clean studio backdrop, lit to be a medium gray with a subtle gradient or vignette, which allows the subject's shadowed silhouette to be clearly defined. Overall Mood: The image should be intensely dramatic, mysterious, powerful, and sophisticated. It is a masterful study of light, shadow, and form.

8 months ago

(Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.