Prompt: Reality Ripple Wave Rider—splatterpunk by Clive Barker—surfs a hemorrhaging horizon where space-time bursts like overripe skin. Each ripple sprays shards of bone and color, the rider’s flesh stitched from the worlds they’ve shredded, grinning through tides of gore and impossible light.
Prompt: Venus de Milo—splatterpunk by Clive Barker—marble flesh ruptures into wet crimson blossoms, beauty carved from bone and sinew. Limbs drip like melted wax, eyes glisten with feral hunger; elegance and gore entwined in a sculpture that bleeds forever.
Prompt: Venus de Milo—splatterpunk by Clive Barker—marble flesh ruptures into wet crimson blossoms, beauty carved from bone and sinew. Limbs drip like melted wax, eyes glisten with feral hunger; elegance and gore entwined in a sculpture that bleeds forever.
Prompt: When Life Gives You a Lemon Head—sour-faced and grinning crooked, it stares back from the fruit bowl, dripping sarcasm instead of juice. Bite in, and you’ll taste candied spite, a sugar-coated sting that lingers far longer than sweet.
Prompt: Cosmic Radiation, Splash Eruption — in Ralph Steadman’s chaotic retro glow, ink-splattered galaxies burst like radioactive citrus, spraying neon stardust across the void. Jagged lines scream through the cosmos, each drip a molten fragment of creation unhinged, madness painted in zero gravity.
Prompt: Cut the Thread of Fate — a hyperdetailed, high-definition illustration teeming with creepy maximalist dread. Dark, surreal limbs spool across a vintage parchment void, where a grotesque marionette snips cosmic strings with rusted shears. Dr. Seuss whimsy curdles into Tim Burton nightmares, haunted by Terry Gilliam's twisted gears. Faces melt into inky spirals. The air is thick with dread, as fate frays in a bizarre, frightening graphic novel fever dream.
Prompt: Cut the Thread of Fate — a hyperdetailed, high-definition illustration teeming with creepy maximalist dread. Dark, surreal limbs spool across a vintage parchment void, where a grotesque marionette snips cosmic strings with rusted shears. Dr. Seuss whimsy curdles into Tim Burton nightmares, haunted by Terry Gilliam's twisted gears. Faces melt into inky spirals. The air is thick with dread, as fate frays in a bizarre, frightening graphic novel fever dream.
Prompt: A hauntingly beautiful angel like without wings, illustration of a ghostlyflower angel like apparition, with wispy, translucent limbs and a soft, eerie glow, dreamlike quality, with muted colors and a hazy, ethereal atmosphere that captures the otherworldly nature of this spectral being, salvatore dali style,make lace extremly sexy and beautiful,very detailed, pastel colors
Prompt: A hauntingly beautiful angel like without wings, illustration of a ghostlyflower angel like apparition, with wispy, translucent limbs and a soft, eerie glow, dreamlike quality, with muted colors and a hazy, ethereal atmosphere that captures the otherworldly nature of this spectral being, salvatore dali style,make lace extremly sexy and beautiful,very detailed, pastel colors
Prompt: Kiss of Death—rendered in glitch art and pixel-sorted decay, a frozen moment ruptures into digital bleeding. Lips meet like corrupted code, love smearing into entropy. Each kiss fractures reality, leaving behind a ghost in broken pixels
Prompt: Kiss of Death—rendered in glitch art and pixel-sorted decay, a frozen moment ruptures into digital bleeding. Lips meet like corrupted code, love smearing into entropy. Each kiss fractures reality, leaving behind a ghost in broken pixels
Prompt: Kiss of Death—rendered in glitch art and pixel-sorted decay, a frozen moment ruptures into digital bleeding. Lips meet like corrupted code, love smearing into entropy. Each kiss fractures reality, leaving behind a ghost in broken pixels
Prompt: Divine Intervention—where celestial hands part fate’s threads, bathing the world in a radiant Aura of Kirlian light. Magic essence pulses in the air, crackling with unseen grace, as reality shimmers under the touch of the ineffable. Miracles ignite like stars
Prompt: Hellfire Blues Club—where stormtide rhythms crash against smoky neon walls, and guitars wail like sirens in the deep. Lightning cracks the stage, each riff mapped in photons across liquored air. Time melts in blue heat; souls sway in the undertow.
Prompt: Harbinger of Typhoons, Psychedelic—cloaked in storm-slick robes of shifting fractals, it rides the eye of chaos, eyes swirling with monsoon mandalas. Each step births cyclones of color; each word warps the wind into prismatic howls. Reality bends in its wake, drowning minds in vivid deluge.
Prompt: Harbinger of Typhoons, Psychedelic—cloaked in storm-slick robes of shifting fractals, it rides the eye of chaos, eyes swirling with monsoon mandalas. Each step births cyclones of color; each word warps the wind into prismatic howls. Reality bends in its wake, drowning minds in vivid deluge.
Prompt: Harbinger of Typhoons, Psychedelic—cloaked in storm-slick robes of shifting fractals, it rides the eye of chaos, eyes swirling with monsoon mandalas. Each step births cyclones of color; each word warps the wind into prismatic howls. Reality bends in its wake, drowning minds in vivid deluge.
Prompt: Harbinger of Typhoons, Psychedelic—cloaked in storm-slick robes of shifting fractals, it rides the eye of chaos, eyes swirling with monsoon mandalas. Each step births cyclones of color; each word warps the wind into prismatic howls. Reality bends in its wake, drowning minds in vivid deluge.
Prompt: Ballerina dancing across the universe, fractal colored pencil overlay of silver, blue, red, black, detailed, emotional portrait of a beautiful ballerina dancing, high detailed expressiveness in face and overall, highly artistic, fine art, anatomical accuracy, high definition, sharp focus, intricate, elegant, cinematic lighting, 8k concept art; deep color; ink drawing, no addition people, body parts forced accurate and proportional anatomical accuracy,
Prompt: macabre Reborn Synthesis—where flesh and wire fuse beneath a Tesla coil's stuttering glitch. Sparks crown the hollow frame, echoing the lost in static moans. An empty soul flickers within, rewritten by voltage and void, endlessly rebooting its death.
Prompt: macabre Reborn Synthesis—where flesh and wire fuse beneath a Tesla coil's stuttering glitch. Sparks crown the hollow frame, echoing the lost in static moans. An empty soul flickers within, rewritten by voltage and void, endlessly rebooting its death.
Prompt: ChatGPT said:
Golden Blood Idol, by Mister Cadaver—a cursed effigy sculpted from gilded bone and coagulated royalty, pulsing with forbidden divinity. Eyes of amber venom glare from a cracked face, whispering blasphemies in dead tongues. Worship it, and bleed gold forever.
Prompt: ChatGPT said:
Golden Blood Idol, by Mister Cadaver—a cursed effigy sculpted from gilded bone and coagulated royalty, pulsing with forbidden divinity. Eyes of amber venom glare from a cracked face, whispering blasphemies in dead tongues. Worship it, and bleed gold forever.
Prompt: Long Exposure of a Fire Spinner—flames trace molten halos in the dark, spiraling like burning comets. Each motion becomes a glowing glyph, a fleeting language of heat and rhythm carved into night. Sparks scatter like stars, time stretched into firelight.
Prompt: Macro Ghost Male Mantis—translucent and spectral, his exoskeleton shimmers like frostbit glass under a macro lens. Limbs folded in eerie prayer, he haunts the petals with silent grace, eyes glowing faint blue like twin moons. A phantom predator in miniature, delicate, deadly, divine
Prompt: dark ambient experimental electronic IDM music, negative space glitching tech futuristic skeletonal science fiction death hunter, phasing and shifting of unknown wierd unhuman faceless exoskeletonal fractured synesthesia, mechanical decay of reversed inside-out emptiness, collapsing into themselves, dark lights from beskulled and rebodied robotic sentinels
Prompt: A ghost looms menacingly over Alice’s sleeping form—its face a blur of shrieking void, fingers trailing tendrils of spectral light. Her spirit begins to lift, drawn like breath from her chest. The room flickers in strobe-like pulses—light painting horror across the walls as shadows writhe and the veil thins.
Prompt: A Tibetan monk, robes flowing in the cosmic currents, meditates serenely amidst swirling nebulae and streaks of warped starlight. His consciousness, a beacon of peace, navigates the impossible geometries of hyperspace, a solitary figure utterly at home in the infinite void.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
