A sample prompt of what you can find in this page
Prompt by afdf066233c

like a liquid mirror prompts

very few results

8 months ago

A luminous, divine figure floats at the center of an infinite cosmic mandala, their form seamlessly blending into the fabric of the universe. Their body shimmers with opalescent light, wrapped in flowing golden silks adorned with celestial sigils and sacred fractals. They radiate an aura of fulfillment, unity, and transcendence. Encircling them, four celestial guardians take shape—each an ethereal embodiment of the elements, glowing with infinite wisdom. A cosmic lion, its mane swirling with liquid galaxies; a winged neon eagle, its feathers woven from pure stardust; a radiant celestial bull, formed from molten silver; and a spectral human figure, shifting between past, present, and future. Around them, the cosmic wheel of existence turns, inscribed with shifting holographic runes, symbolizing the completion of the great journey. The fabric of space ripples, revealing parallel dimensions, melting landscapes, and infinite spirals of creation and destruction. Above, a radiant opal eye watches from the center of the mandala, pulsing with universal awareness. The background dissolves into an endless dreamscape—nebulae bursting like surreal flowers, mirrored dimensions unfolding, and golden threads weaving the universe into an eternal symphony. Salvador Dalí surrealism, hyper-detailed, infinite cosmic unity, radiant completion, glowing celestial energy, surreal cosmic mandala, neon dreamscape, cinematic 4K masterpiece, volumetric light, divine perfection. --avoid: malformed anatomy, extra limbs, distorted proportions, blurry, low-resolution, pixelated, unrealistic reflections, stretched features, floating artifacts, oversaturated hues, cartoonish, low-poly, noisy, artificial lighting, watermark, text artifacts.

6 months ago

n a crumbling sanctuary built at the end of time, open to the sky and flooded with wild overgrowth, a solitary figure stands on a plinth of fractured obsidian—a synthetic angel, both artifact and oracle, mid-transmission. Her body is constructed from a dual-layered material: an outer shell of liquid mirror-glass, always in motion, bending light in surreal ripples—beneath it, a lattice of golden memory circuits, softly pulsing, like script woven from heat and purpose. She is not human. She is not machine. She is the last interface between meaning and forgetting. Her posture is both exalted and worn. One hand raised in silent benediction, the other buried in the tangle of flowering vines wrapping around her legs—life clinging to light, as though nature itself refuses to let go of what she remembers. Etched across her glass-like surface are thin veins of glowing amber: pathways of forgotten prayers, tracing up her legs, over her spine, across her collarbones like fading constellations. Her face is concealed behind a split golden visor, semi-open like the petals of a mechanical flower—revealing only light. From her back, two vast wings made of layered crystalline blades curve upward like collapsed architecture—part cathedral, part ruin. They shimmer not with fire, but with reflected memory, like a sky that forgot how to storm. Around her, broken statuary and shattered machines lie half-swallowed by roots and blossoms. In the distance, a forest made of circuitry burns without smoke—slowly, beautifully. Above, stars pulse in unnatural constellations, forming sigils from before language. Hovering just above her head spins a halo unlike any known form—a fractured ring of refracted glass, filled with flowing text that no longer aligns with any living tongue. It does not glow—it remembers. Rendered in the style of an impressionist-Renaissance hybrid painting, layered with visible brush textures, fog-softened edges, and gold-split chiaroscuro. Warm dusk tones dominate the palette: blood-orange, dusk-lavender, rusted copper, soft pollen white. She is the Benediction Engine—not worshipped, not feared, not obeyed. She simply remains, bearing witness to everything we were, and everything we failed to become.

7 months ago

A bold, neon-drenched reimagining of Lord Shiva, merging divine grandeur with cyberpunk edge. Shiva stands in a post-apocalyptic temple bathed in vibrant neon hues—electric blues, hot pinks, and deep purples—that clash dramatically with the ashen gray of his smeared sacred ash skin. His matted dreadlocks cascade like liquid obsidian, threaded with glowing cybernetic wires and holographic crescent moons. The third eye blazes like a laser-cut ruby embedded in his forehead, casting jagged crimson light across his face. His muscular torso is adorned with glowing bio-luminescent tattoos of serpents and Sanskrit mantras that pulse rhythmically, while his trishul (trident) is reworked as a futuristic weapon—neon-blue plasma crackling between its prongs. Behind him, a chaotic fusion of ancient and future: crumbling temple pillars wrapped in neon-lit vines, holographic damaru (drum) symbols floating in the air, and a backdrop of a smoggy cyber-city skyline where neon signs in Devanagari script advertise "ओम् नमः शिवाय" in glowing pink. The ground smolders with neon-tinged ash, and his pose is both meditative and dynamic—one foot crushing a demonic robotic skull, the other rooted in a lotus position. Cinematic lighting amplifies the contrast: UV-reactive sacred ash glows faintly on his skin, while shadows deepen the intensity of his cosmic gaze. Textures scream detail—the grit of ash on cybernetic arm cuffs, the liquid-metal sheen of his tiger-pelt cloak, and fractal patterns in his irises mirroring the Matrix. The atmosphere throbs with bass-heavy Om chants distorted through futuristic synth waves.