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

and deep purple clouds prompts

very few results

9 months ago

A colossal, ancient tower rises endlessly into the storm-wracked sky, its blackened stone walls jagged and monolithic, as if carved by forgotten gods. The tower stretches upward with impossible scale, piercing through the heavens themselves, its summit vanishing into churning, thunderous clouds. Around the tower’s foundation, the earth trembles and fractures—fiery veins of molten orange light seep through the cracks like wounds in the very fabric of the world, casting a sinister, flickering glow against the weathered stone. At the base of the tower lies the remnants of a once-mighty wall, a colossal gate now reduced to crumbling ruin. Though shattered and decayed, the gate still exudes power, its shattered arches adorned with intricate carvings of twisted demons and forgotten gods, their faces frozen in expressions of torment and rage. Jagged, black iron spikes jut from the stone, some broken, others slick with the glow of embers drifting through the thick, sulfurous air. The gate yawns open like a maw, and the darkness beyond seems to pulse and breathe—an ominous passage leading into the depths of hell itself. The landscape surrounding the tower is a barren, scorched wasteland. Twisted rock formations claw upward like skeletal fingers, shrouded in drifting mists that glow faintly with the light of unseen fires. Patches of smoke rise lazily from fissures in the earth, and small, flickering flames dance atop scattered braziers—unearthly fires that refuse to die. The wind howls through the desolation, carrying with it whispers and distant screams, as though the very land resents the presence of intruders. Above, the sky churns violently. Dark clouds swirl in a massive vortex centered around the tower, lit from within by bursts of electric blue and crimson lightning that tear through the heavens, illuminating the tower’s grotesque carvings and dark reliefs. Shadows dance and warp across its surface, giving the impression that the stone itself is alive, writhing with an ancient, malevolent energy. The atmosphere crackles with power, as if the boundary between worlds grows thin in this accursed place. In the distance, at the edge of the ruined path leading to the gate, a lone figure stands, cloaked in black and dwarfed by the tower’s immeasurable size. The figure’s silhouette is sharp against the fiery glow emanating from the cracked earth, their head tilted upward as they stare at the monstrous tower with a mixture of awe and dread. A faint wind pulls at their cloak, adding a sense of motion to the scene, as though the very world pushes them toward their inevitable fate. The color palette is dramatic and vivid: deep, shadowy blacks and cold grays dominate the stone, contrasted by fiery oranges and molten reds that pulse like a heartbeat through the earth. The sky above glows with dark blues and sickly purples, pierced by streaks of violent, crackling lightning. Reflective pools of molten light shimmer against the tower’s base, while faint embers drift through the air like dying stars, caught in the gravity of this immense, profane structure. Every detail—every crack, carving, and glowing fissure—breathes with life and dread, as though the tower itself is aware of those who dare gaze upon it.

ElectricL
10 210

9 months ago

A towering, 11-foot-tall guardian stands imposingly in front of a colossal, ornate gate carved into the face of a mountain. The gate is ancient and majestic, adorned with intricate reliefs of mythical battles and glowing runes that pulse faintly with golden light. The guardian clutches his massive, magical greatsword (1.5) with both hands, the blade’s tip resting lightly against the ground. The sword radiates a faint, otherworldly glow, its steel engraved with intricate Arabic inscriptions (1.3) that shimmer and shift like living magic. The runes pulse faintly in hues of gold and white, as if alive with ancient power, casting a soft glow that illuminates the guardian’s massive frame. The guardian’s presence is commanding and awe-inspiring. His muscular body, forged through countless battles, is clad in rich purple garments (1.2) trimmed with golden threads, the fabric flowing lightly in the breeze. A golden belt (0.8) with ornate patterns cinches his waist, the intricate craftsmanship suggesting divine origins. Around his thick, powerful neck hangs a massive steel chain (1.3), its links worn and weathered, each one bearing marks of age and strength. His long, Viking-styled hair (1.2) cascades over his broad shoulders, framing his great beard (1.5), which is intricately braided and glimmers faintly in the light. His piercing eyes (1.5), glowing faintly with a cold, icy intensity, strike fear into all who meet his gaze, as though they peer directly into the soul. The scene is alive with subtle, magical energy. Around the sword’s blade, faint arcs of golden light (1.2) ripple and flicker, forming a delicate aura that crackles like restrained lightning. The air around the guardian is heavy, charged with a divine power that seems to bend the very atmosphere. The ground beneath his feet is cracked and scorched, as if unable to bear the weight of his presence. In the background, the gate looms higher than any mortal construction, its glowing runes and faint whispers of magic emphasizing its connection to realms beyond. The lighting is dramatic and cinematic, with the faint glow of the sword and gate runes casting warm golden highlights across the guardian’s muscular form and purple garments. The shadows that stretch behind him are deep and foreboding, creating a stark contrast that amplifies his commanding presence. The environment is desolate yet sacred—winds howl softly through the barren terrain, carrying faint whispers, and distant storm clouds gather, streaked with flashes of silent lightning, as though the heavens themselves acknowledge his might. The composition centers the guardian and his greatsword, emphasizing his towering size and commanding aura. The viewer’s gaze is drawn from the glowing inscriptions on the blade, up through his massive frame, to his piercing eyes and the ancient gate behind him. The entire scene breathes power, fear, and reverence, encapsulating the might of a being that guards the threshold to another world.

ElectricL
6 160

9 months ago

A monstrous, giant version of the female villain inspired by Cell, towering over the landscape. Her once sleek, humanoid form is now twisted into a colossal, terrifying creature, her body still retaining key elements of her previous design. Her vibrant pink skin has turned darker, with shades of fuchsia and purple, now appearing more rough and scaled, like the exterior of a monstrous being. The once elegant, intricate cell-like patterns across her body are now larger and more jagged, as if her transformation has mutated her original design into something even more dangerous. Her face, still retaining elements of Cell's original features, has become more grotesque and alien. Her sharp cheekbones are exaggerated, and her glowing blue eyes now radiate an eerie, predatory glow. Her antennae have grown longer, more twisted, and are now like tendrils, adding to her monstrous appearance. Her sharp, fanged teeth are visible, giving her a more beastly look, while her skin has developed deep cracks, hinting at the immense power coursing through her. Her once sleek robotic suit is now a part of her monstrous form, but it has morphed with her body, turning into jagged armor plates and dark, metallic spikes that extend along her back and shoulders, further emphasizing her monstrous transformation. In her massive right hand, she wields a huge, glowing energy sword, crackling with power, and her left hand holds a massive energy cannon, pulsating with dark energy. Her arms and legs have grown larger and more muscular, and her claws are razor-sharp. The scene is set on an alien world, with the ground cracking beneath her feet as she towers over the landscape. The sky is dark and stormy, with swirling clouds and flashes of lightning, reflecting the chaos unleashed by her transformation. The monstrous villainess stands tall, a terrifying figure of raw power and malice, ready to destroy anything in her path.

andresthecrow
3 97

6 months ago

A **dark and twisted Wonderland** unfurls, transformed into a **haunting nightmare** where every corner pulses with malevolent energy. The once whimsical landscape is now warped, twisted, and drenched in an unsettling, nightmarish atmosphere. The ground beneath your feet is cracked, like the skin of some ancient beast, with dark roots curling through the earth like sinister veins, pulsating with an eerie life force. The air is thick with a palpable tension, a heavy weight that presses against your chest. Above, the sky churns in a swirling maelstrom of deep **purple** and **blood-red** hues, the colors constantly shifting, as though the heavens themselves are in torment. These ominous clouds swirl with an unnatural force, casting shifting shadows and strange, ghostly lights that dance across the land below. The air crackles with the whispers of long-forgotten creatures, their voices an unsettling mix of laughter and cries of anguish. The trees, once delicate and enchanting, now writhe in grotesque forms, their gnarled branches twisted into horrific shapes, reaching like skeletal fingers towards the sky. Their leaves are dark, almost black, with sharp edges, resembling jagged claws. Strange, glowing eyes peer out from the darkness between the trees, watching, waiting. The familiar figures of Wonderland are no longer innocent and playful. The **Mad Hatter's** hat is tattered, his grin more menacing than ever, his eyes glowing with madness. The **White Rabbit** scurries past with a twisted, skeletal form, its fur matted and stained, leaving a trail of blood behind it as it vanishes into the shadows. The **Cheshire Cat** grins wider, its smile stretching unnaturally across its face, revealing sharp, jagged teeth, its body flickering in and out of existence like a ghost in the fog. A crooked, decaying mansion looms in the distance, its windows shattered, leaking an eerie greenish light that pulses with each beat of the land's dark heart. The walls of the mansion seem to breathe, expanding and contracting, as if it is alive with some ancient malevolent force. The sound of dripping water echoes through the air, but it’s not water—it's blood, flowing in a slow, rhythmic stream that stains the cracked ground red. In the distance, the sound of distant bells tolls—deep, mournful chimes that reverberate through the land, signifying the passage of time in this nightmarish realm. The landscape seems to pulse and shift, an ever-changing labyrinth of fear, madness, and decay, drawing you deeper into its twisted heart. The entire scene is bathed in an unnatural light, as if the moon itself has been swallowed by the madness of Wonderland, leaving only an unsettling, shifting glow that amplifies the nightmarish nature of this once-innocent world. This is no longer Wonderland. It is a place of horror, a **haunting nightmare** under the oppressive weight of a **swirling purple and blood-red sky**, where the laws of reality have been bent and broken, and only darkness and fear reign.; 8k, intricate detail, photorealistic, realistic light, wide angle

Slinkychips PRO
2 85

8 months ago

Set against an endless expanse of desert, the colossal automaton strides across the horizon, its immense form towering over the landscape while leaving much of the frame open to convey its overwhelming size. At a distance, its silhouette breaks through low-hanging clouds at 1,000 meters, emphasizing its staggering 4,000-foot height. The machine moves steadily, one leg caught mid-stride, lifted high as cascades of sand pour from its immense foot, creating swirling eddies of dust far below. Its grounded legs leave deep craters in the desert, visible even from this distant view, while the trembling earth sends visible ripples across the dunes. The automaton’s four massive legs are skeletal and mechanical, each a latticework of colossal pistons, cables, and ancient, corroded plating. Despite its distance, the details of its weathered surface are visible: rust streaks running down its joints, broken sections exposing internal mechanisms, and deep scars left by untold centuries of wear. Its torso rises like a fortress, uneven and asymmetrical, with jagged outcroppings, massive exhaust vents spewing steam, and entire sections bristling with exposed machinery. Above the automaton, airships tethered by thick, swaying cables float alongside it, their weathered envelopes bulging against the desert winds. These vessels, far smaller in scale but still large by human standards, bob and shift as they carry supplies and maintenance crews to the machine. Smaller drones flit between the airships and the automaton, their lights blinking faintly as they zip across the sky. On its back, the automaton supports a distant but sprawling city. Even from this far, the city’s intricate design is visible—towers and spires rise unevenly, linked by delicate bridges and suspended pathways. Tiny streams of light flicker across the city’s surface, marking the movements of vehicles and machinery. Trails of smoke and mist cascade down its sides, mingling with the clouds that cling to its upper body. The faint hum of activity is palpable, amplified by the unceasing movement of the automaton itself. The scene is dominated by the vast desert, stretching outward in golden ripples of sand broken only by jagged outcrops of rock and the faint shapes of ruined structures buried in the dunes. In the foreground, caravans of tiny figures and vehicles scatter, barely perceptible against the immense scale of the automaton. Dust storms trail far behind its legs, creating a hazy backdrop that swallows portions of the horizon. Above, the late-afternoon sky is layered with fiery streaks of orange and purple, clouds glowing faintly as they part to accommodate the automaton’s towering frame. The interplay of light and shadow accentuates its enormity, with its upper sections catching the sun’s last rays while its lower half fades into shadow and dust. The atmosphere is thick with the sounds of grinding metal, distant tremors, and the hum of engines, creating a sense of motion and life that fills the frame without overwhelming it. The automaton’s presence dominates the scene, but its distance allows the scale of the environment—airships, desert, and sky—to emphasize its true immensity. It strides forward like a titan, a walking world whose slow, deliberate march carries an ancient city and its tethered fleet across the endless expanse

ElectricL
2 150

9 months ago

A towering, 11-foot-tall guardian stands imposingly in front of a colossal, ornate gate carved into the face of a mountain. The gate is ancient and majestic, adorned with intricate reliefs of mythical battles and glowing runes that pulse faintly with golden light. The guardian clutches his massive, magical greatsword (1.5) with both hands, the blade’s tip resting lightly against the ground. The sword radiates a faint, otherworldly glow, its steel engraved with intricate Arabic inscriptions (1.3) that shimmer and shift like living magic. The runes pulse faintly in hues of gold and white, as if alive with ancient power, casting a soft glow that illuminates the guardian’s massive frame. The guardian’s presence is commanding and awe-inspiring. His muscular body, forged through countless battles, is clad in rich purple garments (1.2) trimmed with golden threads, the fabric flowing lightly in the breeze. A golden belt (0.8) with ornate patterns cinches his waist, the intricate craftsmanship suggesting divine origins. Around his thick, powerful neck hangs a massive steel chain (1.3), its links worn and weathered, each one bearing marks of age and strength. His long, Viking-styled hair (1.2) cascades over his broad shoulders, framing his great beard (1.5), which is intricately braided and glimmers faintly in the light. His piercing eyes (1.5), glowing faintly with a cold, icy intensity, strike fear into all who meet his gaze, as though they peer directly into the soul. The scene is alive with subtle, magical energy. Around the sword’s blade, faint arcs of golden light (1.2) ripple and flicker, forming a delicate aura that crackles like restrained lightning. The air around the guardian is heavy, charged with a divine power that seems to bend the very atmosphere. The ground beneath his feet is cracked and scorched, as if unable to bear the weight of his presence. In the background, the gate looms higher than any mortal construction, its glowing runes and faint whispers of magic emphasizing its connection to realms beyond. The lighting is dramatic and cinematic, with the faint glow of the sword and gate runes casting warm golden highlights across the guardian’s muscular form and purple garments. The shadows that stretch behind him are deep and foreboding, creating a stark contrast that amplifies his commanding presence. The environment is desolate yet sacred—winds howl softly through the barren terrain, carrying faint whispers, and distant storm clouds gather, streaked with flashes of silent lightning, as though the heavens themselves acknowledge his might. The composition centers the guardian and his greatsword, emphasizing his towering size and commanding aura. The viewer’s gaze is drawn from the glowing inscriptions on the blade, up through his massive frame, to his piercing eyes and the ancient gate behind him. The entire scene breathes power, fear, and reverence, encapsulating the might of a being that guards the threshold to another world.

ElectricL
2 83

1 month ago

A vast, windswept plain stretches endlessly under a storm-darkened sky, the land cracked and scorched from the aftermath of a brutal sorcerer’s duel. Towering, jagged clouds churn violently above, illuminated by streaks of purple lightning that crackle across the heavens, casting ominous flashes of light over the battlefield. At the center of this desolation stands the victorious, malevolent sorcerer—a towering, sinister figure with half of his face shrouded in swirling smoke and glowing, crackling purple energy. His expression is one of cold triumph as his glowing, inhuman eye burns with power. Before him, his defeated foe lies sprawled on the ground, his form crumpled and broken, robes tattered and bloodstained. The fallen sorcerer’s body is limp, his face twisted in despair and pain as the last remnants of his soul are ripped from his chest. Glowing tendrils of ethereal light—streams of ghostly white, blue, and violet energy—pour upward like smoke, writhing and coiling as they are drawn into the victor’s outstretched hand. The defeated sorcerer’s soul flickers and splinters, taking the form of countless ghostly faces screaming silently as they are siphoned into the dark vortex swirling in the sorcerer’s palm. The victorious sorcerer stands tall, his dark, flowing robes billowing violently in the wind as though alive, tattered edges writhing like shadows. His gnarled hands, covered in dark rings and veins glowing faintly with power, radiate with purple energy that pulses like lightning. Trails of smoke and embers rise from his form, blending into the stormy sky as the sorcerer’s aura bends the very air around him. The ground beneath his feet cracks and glows with faint purple fissures, as if the land itself recoils from his presence. The battlefield is littered with charred earth and faint arcs of residual energy, remnants of the ferocity of their duel. In the distance, faint silhouettes of jagged rock formations pierce the horizon, shrouded in drifting mist. A cold wind sweeps through the plain, carrying with it the echoes of screams and the distant rumble of thunder. Above, the clouds twist into a dark vortex, as if nature itself acknowledges the sorcerer’s dominance. The purple lightning dances around him, refracted and amplified by the energy of the soul being consumed. The composition is dynamic and cinematic: the sorcerer, center-frame, looms over his fallen opponent, one hand raised high as the swirling, ghostly soul tendrils spiral into him. His form crackles with immense power, the light of the extracted soul casting a vibrant glow across his sinister face. The defeated sorcerer lies sprawled at his feet, his body limp, with faint residual light seeping from his chest as his soul is pulled free. The dramatic lighting and contrast—deep shadows broken by radiant purples and ghostly whites—create an atmosphere of awe and terror, solidifying the sorcerer’s godlike victory.

ElectricL
1 82