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

spinning around her prompts

very few results

9 months ago

a dramatic and ethereal scene set in near-total darkness, showcasing the striking silhouette of a dancer frozen mid-motion. The dancer is captured in a leap, spin, or a dramatic pose with extended limbs, their form completely black with no visible details, emphasizing the fluidity and power of the movement rather than individual features. The silhouette exudes grace and dynamism, a visual embodiment of energy and freedom. Surrounding the dancer are glowing trails of light and particles swirling around their form. These trails resemble ethereal wisps of smoke, glowing ribbons, and sparkling particles that radiate and twist dynamically, capturing the essence of motion. The trails vary in luminous colors, including soft blues, purples, vivid whites, and touches of gold, creating a stunning contrast against the dark background. The background is minimalist, with subtle gradients and soft shadows that enhance the composition without drawing attention away from the dancer and the vibrant light trails. The interplay of light and shadow emphasizes the energy and emotion of the scene, creating an atmosphere of mystique and transcendence. Rendered in ultra-high resolution, the scene features intricate details in the glowing trails and particles, with soft, realistic lighting that enhances their vibrancy. The overall effect is a visually stunning and emotionally resonant masterpiece, showcasing the beauty of movement through an interplay of light and shadow in a surreal, dynamic composition.

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

Freddie Mercury, the iconic frontman of Queen, stands on stage, a towering figure of energy and charisma, commanding the attention of a vast, roaring crowd. The stadium is packed with tens of thousands of fans, all of them shouting, clapping, and singing in unison. The air is thick with anticipation as the lights dim, and suddenly, a single spotlight illuminates Freddie at the center of the stage. Dressed in his signature white tank top, tight denim jeans, and leather gloves, Freddie’s presence is electric. His perfectly styled mustache and short, slicked-back hair add to the aura of rock-star coolness. The glow of the stage lights bounces off his sweat-soaked skin as he moves with wild abandon, each gesture exuding confidence and passion. The spotlight catches the gleam of his jewelry—his bold, gold rings and the gleaming cross around his neck—a symbol of his unique, unmatchable style. As the music swells, Freddie grabs the microphone stand with one hand and raises it above his head, as if summoning the crowd to respond. His voice rings out, clear and powerful, effortlessly reaching every corner of the massive arena. The notes seem to float through the air, perfectly in tune with the energy around him, as his voice soars, cracking with emotion, then dipping into a smooth falsetto. He’s a master at connecting with the audience, drawing them into every note, every lyric. His eyes are wide, intense, and filled with fire. There’s an almost magnetic pull to him, making it feel as if he’s performing for each person in the crowd, despite the sea of faces stretching out before him. With every beat, Freddie’s body moves in sync with the music. He’s a dancer, a showman, his body language as expressive as his voice. He twirls and spins across the stage, one minute flinging himself toward the front edge, arms outstretched as if embracing the adoration, and the next, he’s crouching low, creating a moment of intimacy with the audience. His energy never falters—his performance is a whirlwind of movement and emotion. The band behind him—Brian May, Roger Taylor, and John Deacon—form the perfect backdrop, but it’s Freddie who is the undeniable focal point. His interactions with the audience are playful and commanding at the same time. He encourages them to sing along, making eye contact with fans in the front rows, pulling them into the performance with a smile, a wink, or a raised hand. As the song reaches its peak, Freddie stands center stage, his arms spread wide, reveling in the rush of sound and the collective power of the crowd’s voice. His expression is one of pure joy and liberation. Every second on stage feels like he’s giving everything he has—his voice, his body, his heart—and in return, the crowd erupts, a unified roar of pure love and admiration. It's a moment where time seems to slow, and Freddie, in all his theatrical glory, is not just performing a song, but offering a piece of himself to the world, leaving the crowd mesmerized, breathless, and forever in awe of his incredible talent. The stage lights pulse in time with the music, casting dramatic shadows and highlighting his every movement. Freddie’s face reflects the intensity of his performance—his brows furrowed in concentration one moment, then breaking into a wide grin as he basks in the crowd’s cheers. There’s a palpable sense of connection between him and the audience, an almost unspoken understanding that they are experiencing something special, something transcendent. As the song ends, the crowd erupts into deafening applause, chanting his name, but Freddie isn’t done. He takes a brief moment, breathing deeply, and then throws himself into the next song, ready to give them even more; 8k, intricate detail, photorealistic, realistic light, wide angle, kinkfolk photography, A+D architecture