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

stand up open legs prompts

hundreds of results

11 days 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. 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.

ElectricL
5 100

5 months ago

(Primary Subject: Emotionally Expressive Android Woman with Dual-Layered Skin, Painted in Impressionist Classical Renaissance Style, 1.7 weight) — in the heart of a lush, sun-drenched garden overflowing with blossoms, an android woman stands quietly, her form captured in the painterly elegance of a Renaissance-era oil painting. Her body is sculpted and graceful, rendered with soft impressionist brushstrokes that blend into surreal detail—her figure radiant, yet ethereal, like a machine-angel frozen in time. Her “skin” is composed of two delicate, interwoven layers: The outer layer is smooth, reflective, and subtly fluid, shimmering with hints of pale pink, soft violet, and dusky gold, like liquid mercury caught in a sunset. It has the appearance of gently flowing molten glass, and catches the dappled garden light with painterly elegance. Beneath it, faintly visible through the translucent surface, lies a subdermal lattice—a softly glowing core of golden circuitry, like sacred geometry woven into synthetic muscle. It pulses faintly, like a slow heartbeat of light, giving her form an inner radiance, a soul made of signal (subtle luminous inner structure beneath transparent surface, 1.6 weight). She wears no armor, no exposed wires—only that liquid-smooth surface, glowing softly in the sun. A thin, continuous line of amber-orange light traces up the outside of her legs, over her hips, across her shoulders and arms, like a haloed signature etched into her form. Her visor-like faceplate—a curved golden-glass surface—reflects the garden’s warm light. Though faceless, her entire body language conveys profound emotion: one hand lightly touching her chest, the other extended gently toward a single open flower, as if remembering something. Her posture is soft, tender, almost melancholic—like a saint carved from future metal, lost in sacred thought. The garden blooms around her in classical beauty—roses, lilies, orchids, and surreal blossoms from impossible species. Sunlight pours through foliage in golden beams, casting her figure in a divine backlight. Petals drift in the air like thoughts. Her reflection shimmers faintly in a nearby pool. Rendered in the style of a classical oil painting—with visible brush textures, soft baroque lighting, volumetric haze, and subtle chiaroscuro across her form. The colors are rich and warm—sunset gold, floral crimson, blush pink, and soft lavender—interplaying with reflections in her skin like a moving canvas.

ElectricL
4 150

3 months ago

(Primary Subject: Emotionally Expressive Android Woman with Dual-Layered Skin, Painted in Impressionist Classical Renaissance Style, 1.7 weight) — in the heart of a lush, sun-drenched garden overflowing with blossoms, an android woman stands quietly, her form captured in the painterly elegance of a Renaissance-era oil painting. Her body is sculpted and graceful, rendered with soft impressionist brushstrokes that blend into surreal detail—her figure radiant, yet ethereal, like a machine-angel frozen in time. Her “skin” is composed of two delicate, interwoven layers: The outer layer is smooth, reflective, and subtly fluid, shimmering with hints of pale pink, soft violet, and dusky gold, like liquid mercury caught in a sunset. It has the appearance of gently flowing molten glass, and catches the dappled garden light with painterly elegance. Beneath it, faintly visible through the translucent surface, lies a subdermal lattice—a softly glowing core of golden circuitry, like sacred geometry woven into synthetic muscle. It pulses faintly, like a slow heartbeat of light, giving her form an inner radiance, a soul made of signal (subtle luminous inner structure beneath transparent surface, 1.6 weight). She wears no armor, no exposed wires—only that liquid-smooth surface, glowing softly in the sun. A thin, continuous line of amber-orange light traces up the outside of her legs, over her hips, across her shoulders and arms, like a haloed signature etched into her form. Her visor-like faceplate—a curved golden-glass surface—reflects the garden’s warm light. Though faceless, her entire body language conveys profound emotion: one hand lightly touching her chest, the other extended gently toward a single open flower, as if remembering something. Her posture is soft, tender, almost melancholic—like a saint carved from future metal, lost in sacred thought. The garden blooms around her in classical beauty—roses, lilies, orchids, and surreal blossoms from impossible species. Sunlight pours through foliage in golden beams, casting her figure in a divine backlight. Petals drift in the air like thoughts. Her reflection shimmers faintly in a nearby pool. Rendered in the style of a classical oil painting—with visible brush textures, soft baroque lighting, volumetric haze, and subtle chiaroscuro across her form. The colors are rich and warm—sunset gold, floral crimson, blush pink, and soft lavender—interplaying with reflections in her skin like a moving canvas.

ElectricL
3 200

4 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.

ElectricL
2 100

3 months ago

A young woman stands alone amidst the quiet beauty of a winter wonderland, her presence radiating an air of confident sensuality despite the serene atmosphere. Her bright blue eyes seem to sparkle with a hint of mischief, as if she's privy to some private joke that only she can see. Her raven-black hair cascades down her back like a waterfall of night, accentuating the delicate features of her face and drawing attention to the vibrant colors of her outfit. An open fur coat drapes elegantly around her torso, its softness seeming to contrast with the rugged texture of her muscular midriff. A ribbed dark yellow crop top adds a pop of color to this otherwise muted scene, creating an unexpected juxtaposition that's both captivating and intriguing. A pair of black pants hugs her legs, their sleek surface seeming to reflect the faint light of the overcast sky. A leather belt cinches at her waist, its rough texture adding a touch of ruggedness to her overall appearance. Her hands are tucked deep within the pockets of her coat, as if she's trying to keep some secret hidden from prying eyes. The dense forest that surrounds her seems to be shrouded in a thick layer of fog, creating an atmosphere that's at once mysterious and alluring. The falling snowflakes dance around her like tiny ballerinas, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to this already captivating scene. Every aspect of this photograph is bathed in muted colors, as if the very essence of winter has been distilled into this one, perfect moment.

Luv2Grill
2 78

5 months ago

(Primary Subject: Emotionally Expressive Android Woman with Dual-Layered Skin, Painted in Impressionist Classical Renaissance Style, 1.7 weight) — in the heart of a lush, sun-drenched garden overflowing with blossoms, an android woman stands quietly, her form captured in the painterly elegance of a Renaissance-era oil painting. Her body is sculpted and graceful, rendered with soft impressionist brushstrokes that blend into surreal detail—her figure radiant, yet ethereal, like a machine-angel frozen in time. Her “skin” is composed of two delicate, interwoven layers: The outer layer is smooth, reflective, and subtly fluid, shimmering with hints of pale pink, soft violet, and dusky gold, like liquid mercury caught in a sunset. It has the appearance of gently flowing molten glass, and catches the dappled garden light with painterly elegance. Beneath it, faintly visible through the translucent surface, lies a subdermal lattice—a softly glowing core of golden circuitry, like sacred geometry woven into synthetic muscle. It pulses faintly, like a slow heartbeat of light, giving her form an inner radiance, a soul made of signal (subtle luminous inner structure beneath transparent surface, 1.6 weight). She wears no armor, no exposed wires—only that liquid-smooth surface, glowing softly in the sun. A thin, continuous line of amber-orange light traces up the outside of her legs, over her hips, across her shoulders and arms, like a haloed signature etched into her form. Her visor-like faceplate—a curved golden-glass surface—reflects the garden’s warm light. Though faceless, her entire body language conveys profound emotion: one hand lightly touching her chest, the other extended gently toward a single open flower, as if remembering something. Her posture is soft, tender, almost melancholic—like a saint carved from future metal, lost in sacred thought. The garden blooms around her in classical beauty—roses, lilies, orchids, and surreal blossoms from impossible species. Sunlight pours through foliage in golden beams, casting her figure in a divine backlight. Petals drift in the air like thoughts. Her reflection shimmers faintly in a nearby pool. Rendered in the style of a classical oil painting—with visible brush textures, soft baroque lighting, volumetric haze, and subtle chiaroscuro across her form. The colors are rich and warm—sunset gold, floral crimson, blush pink, and soft lavender—interplaying with reflections in her skin like a moving canvas.

ElectricL
2 63