Prompt: An Aerolux light bulb—its delicate filament glows with a cascading mana fall, shimmering in blues and violets like liquid magic. Tiny glass birds spiral within, frozen mid-flight, their wings catching the light in ethereal flickers. It hums softly, as if dreaming of sky.
Prompt: An angry-faced sun blazes overhead, its eyes seething with heat. It scowls down upon the cracked earth, drying rivers to dust. Below, weird twisted plants writhe—leafless, gnarled, and thirsty—stretching warped limbs toward the merciless sky.
Prompt: The Heaven Tree of Stars—its twisted silver branches cradle humid, night-blue fruit that drip ink and starlight. In this mixed media collage, Clive Barker’s splatterpunk vision oozes through: torn textures, blood-slick shadows, and chaotic constellations stitched with sinew. Each fruit pulses with secrets—close-up, it’s grotesque and divine
Prompt: Cacophony Dark Arts—an explosion of maximalist chaos: twisted symbols, clashing textures, arcane sigils smeared in violent color. Every inch screams with layered meaning—gilded bones, glitch halos, dripping ink. It’s occult excess incarnate, a fever dream painted with too many hands.
Prompt: A symmetry of chaos shudders, awakening as a lone, individualized frog—lumpy, green, and strangely familiar. With a cartoonish smirk and a face oddly resembling Matt Dillon, it blinks into existence, absurd and self-aware, the sole coherent ripple in a universe unraveling.
Prompt: The witch girl sits cross-legged in a glowing cave, her breath slow, her eyes closed. Bioluminescent moss pulses softly around her, casting emerald light on the shrine before her—twisted wood and bone, draped in shrunken head talismans that sway gently in unseen currents. Each head whispers secrets as she sinks deeper into trance.
Prompt: Gaze into the noise—where static hums with meaning and inner glow pulses like a heartbeat. Psychedelic bursts ripple across your vision, colors blooming in fractal waves. It feels like scientific photography of emotion itself: surreal, precise, strangely happy—like joy decoded by a dreaming machine.
Prompt: Gaze into the noise—where static hums with meaning and inner glow pulses like a heartbeat. Psychedelic bursts ripple across your vision, colors blooming in fractal waves. It feels like scientific photography of emotion itself: surreal, precise, strangely happy—like joy decoded by a dreaming machine.
Prompt: A beautiful kaleidoscope woman—her form ever-shifting, composed of infinitely tiny pins that shimmer like stained glass in motion. Each movement sends ripples of color and pattern, her silhouette refracting reality itself, delicate and dazzling, like living mosaic caught in a dream of sharp light.
Prompt: A beautiful kaleidoscope woman—her form ever-shifting, composed of infinitely tiny pins that shimmer like stained glass in motion. Each movement sends ripples of color and pattern, her silhouette refracting reality itself, delicate and dazzling, like living mosaic caught in a dream of sharp light.
Prompt: A beautiful kaleidoscope woman—her form ever-shifting, composed of infinitely tiny pins that shimmer like stained glass in motion. Each movement sends ripples of color and pattern, her silhouette refracting reality itself, delicate and dazzling, like living mosaic caught in a dream of sharp light.
Prompt: A cute forest troll—plump and mossy, with curling horns overgrown with mushrooms and glistening berries—sits nestled inside a delicate glass sphere. Its big, glimmering eyes reflect the lush world beyond: twisted trees, glowing fungi, and fireflies drifting. Every wrinkle, root, and toadstool on its skin is carved in intricate fantasy detail, a tiny guardian of wild magic.
Prompt: An animal spirit—luminous and shifting—guides you through an undeniable dream voyage. Stars ripple around its form as you’re pulled into a sparkling vortex, where time folds and memory glows. Each turn spirals deeper into wonder, the spirit’s eyes reflecting galaxies yet to be born.
Prompt: A beautiful cathedral, its spires piercing a crimson sky, burns in stylized brilliance—cel-shaded flames lick upward in jagged strokes, casting bold shadows across stained glass as it shatters mid-glow. The sacred crumbles in vivid contrast, divine ruin drawn in sharp lines and glowing embers.
Prompt: The Forest Guardian—cloaked in ancient, tattered robes that whisper of forgotten oaths—stands beneath a cloud-strewn night sky pierced by sharp, glinting stars. Flickering lights pulse all around, casting warped shadows through twisted trees. Then, everything shatters—branches, sky, stars—into splinters of memory. The oil painting captures it in thick, oppressive strokes, every detail bleeding with dread, every fragment frozen in the moment of collapse
Prompt: The Forest Guardian—cloaked in ancient, tattered robes that whisper of forgotten oaths—stands beneath a cloud-strewn night sky pierced by sharp, glinting stars. Flickering lights pulse all around, casting warped shadows through twisted trees. Then, everything shatters—branches, sky, stars—into splinters of memory. The oil painting captures it in thick, oppressive strokes, every detail bleeding with dread, every fragment frozen in the moment of collapse
Prompt: Worm Dance—a ritual of decay beneath the cracked skin of Earth, where the Dark Art Society gathers in secret. Under the burning eye of Perihelion, they chant “Save us from the cross,” their voices warping in the heat. Monuments of boiled gum rise and melt—fleshy towers pulsating, collapsing into slop—an architecture of rot, built to worship dissolution
Prompt: The Forest Guardian—cloaked in ancient, tattered robes that whisper of forgotten oaths—stands beneath a cloud-strewn night sky pierced by sharp, glinting stars. Flickering lights pulse all around, casting warped shadows through twisted trees. Then, everything shatters—branches, sky, stars—into splinters of memory. The oil painting captures it in thick, oppressive strokes, every detail bleeding with dread, every fragment frozen in the moment of collapse
Prompt: A lucid dream begins in a grimy alley—flickering neon, the stink of rot and oil. Suddenly, gravity flips. You’re yanked skyward—no sound, just vertigo and light. The alley shrinks into shadow below as you rise through clouds, weightless, breathless, suspended in infinite blue. Reality peels open like paper.
Prompt: A futuristic cybernetic green swamp beast—its moss-coated exoskeleton gleams with wet metal and bioluminescent circuitry. Vines snake through its limbs, merging nature and machine. Clusters of tiny white flowers bloom from its back, attracting flickering insects that orbit like satellites. Painted in a high-detail watercolor style—soft washes of green, silver, and misty light.
Prompt: Conjoined Monarchs—two regal figures fused at the spine, sharing one ornate crown crusted with history. Their bodies draped in exuviae—molted skins, torn silk, relics of flesh shed through war and rule. What’s left is regal ruin: a throne of bone, sovereignty stripped to its raw, haunting core.
Prompt: A surreal demon mouth—gaping wide with hell-teeth sculpted from boiled gum, blistered and melting. Its death-head form cradles a miniature galaxy in one hand, stars swirling between claws. Macro-photography reveals oozing textures, veiny folds, and cosmic decay—flesh and void entwined in grotesque, galactic surrealism.
Prompt: Nim Lasher—the rotting metal brute, its jagged limbs corroded and cruel. Rust weeps from its frame, feeding the necrogen mists that cling like poison breath. Each swing spreads decay, a walking engine of toxic entropy, forged in filth and born to blight.
Prompt: Nim Lasher—the rotting metal brute, its jagged limbs corroded and cruel. Rust weeps from its frame, feeding the necrogen mists that cling like poison breath. Each swing spreads decay, a walking engine of toxic entropy, forged in filth and born to blight.
Prompt: Teratogenic black matter births the Shattered Ones—hideous, malformed entities lurking in the dark. Their bodies glitch and melt into themselves, limbs warping in loops of unreal physics. Shapeless and seething, they whisper through fractured dimensions, toxic echoes of creation gone wrong.
Prompt: Conjoined Monarchs—two regal figures fused at the spine, sharing one ornate crown crusted with history. Their bodies draped in exuviae—molted skins, torn silk, relics of flesh shed through war and rule. What’s left is regal ruin: a throne of bone, sovereignty stripped to its raw, haunting core.
Prompt: Conjoined Monarchs—two regal figures fused at the spine, sharing one ornate crown crusted with history. Their bodies draped in exuviae—molted skins, torn silk, relics of flesh shed through war and rule. What’s left is regal ruin: a throne of bone, sovereignty stripped to its raw, haunting core.
Prompt: A surreal demon mouth—gaping wide with hell-teeth sculpted from boiled gum, blistered and melting. Its death-head form cradles a miniature galaxy in one hand, stars swirling between claws. Macro-photography reveals oozing textures, veiny folds, and cosmic decay—flesh and void entwined in grotesque, galactic surrealism.
Prompt: A surreal demon mouth—gaping wide with hell-teeth sculpted from boiled gum, blistered and melting. Its death-head form cradles a miniature galaxy in one hand, stars swirling between claws. Macro-photography reveals oozing textures, veiny folds, and cosmic decay—flesh and void entwined in grotesque, galactic surrealism.
Prompt: Moldylocks—a grotesque yet whimsical lady made entirely of fuzzy green mold and oozing pus. Her hair: a tangled nest of mildew curls. Her dress: stitched from crusty biofilm. With bulbous eyes and a lopsided grin, she totters on fungus-covered heels, trailing a stench of mischief in cartoonish, caricature style.
Prompt: Moldylocks—a grotesque yet whimsical lady made entirely of fuzzy green mold and oozing pus. Her hair: a tangled nest of mildew curls. Her dress: stitched from crusty biofilm. With bulbous eyes and a lopsided grin, she totters on fungus-covered heels, trailing a stench of mischief in cartoonish, caricature style.
Prompt: An aesthetically intricate water diver spirals through the depths—limbs unfurling like liquid geometry, body adorned with fractal fins and flowing ribbons of bioluminescent color. The sea is an abstract canvas of swirling teals, magentas, and spectral golds—currents ripple with surreal elegance as form dissolves into dreamlike motion.
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.
