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

towards prompts

about 2k results

7 months ago

In the textured realism of Simon Stålenhag, a moon-worshiping priestess stands ankle-deep in the calm waters of a misty lake, her naked body fully exposed (2.0). Her raven-black hair flows wildly in the wind (1.8), adding a dynamic sense of motion as she raises her arms in worship toward the vast, star-filled sky. The night is illuminated solely by torches (1.8) planted in an irregular pattern along the sandy beach behind her, their golden flames flickering against the cool, muted tones of the environment. Her posture is powerful yet serene, the natural curves of her body, including her softly rounded bubble butt (2.0), highlighted by the warm glow of the torches. The contrast between the golden torchlight and the cool misty darkness of the lake creates a striking interplay of light and shadow, emphasizing the contours of her figure (1.9). To her side, a silver-grey horse (1.7) stands peacefully, tied to a nearby tree on the shoreline, its sleek coat reflecting faint glimmers of the torchlight. The lake is veiled in a thin layer of smoke (1.8), which drifts softly across the surface, blending with the hazy reflection of the torches in the rippling water. The air is alive with hundreds of fireflies (1.9), their tiny golden lights moving erratically, adding texture and depth to the scene. The torches' crackling flames mix with the gentle rustle of leaves and the faint hum of the fireflies, creating a richly immersive atmosphere. The volumetric lighting (1.8) from the torches filters through the drifting smoke, casting soft, dynamic beams across the scene. The muted earthy tones of the surroundings, interspersed with the vibrant glow of the torches and the flickering fireflies, evoke Stålenhag’s characteristic balance of realism and mysticism, capturing a moment of sacred ritual and haunting beauty.

3 months ago

A stunning, cinematic masterpiece in ultra-realistic 8K resolution, capturing a serene moment of a nude woman sitting gracefully in an oversized, transparent martini glass. Her side is facing the viewer, her pose elegant and relaxed. Her legs are folded naturally within the wide basin of the glass, her body leaning slightly with a gentle curve, while her arm rests casually on the rim. She glances softly over her shoulder toward the light, her expression thoughtful and serene. The martini glass is filled with clear water, creating subtle ripples and intricate reflections that dance across the glass. The stem of the glass extends elegantly from a smooth stone base, anchoring it firmly in the scene. The soft, golden light of dusk illuminates the setting, casting realistic, dynamic shadows that enhance the contours of the woman and the glass. The background opens up to a serene desert landscape, dotted with iconic cacti, desert brush, and faintly visible rocky formations in the distance. The sky is painted in hues of orange, pink, and soft purple as the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene. A light, dusty haze hangs in the air, scattering the light and creating an ethereal atmosphere. In the foreground, small desert elements such as scattered stones, dry grass, and faint animal tracks add depth and realism, while the delicate sparkle of the sand reflects the low-angle sunlight. The interplay between the golden-hour light, the clear water, and the smooth surface of the glass creates intricate refractions and shadows, emphasizing the surreal beauty of the moment.

8 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.