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

Blood FLUX prompts

hundreds of results

9 months ago

Visualize an epic scene depicting a legendary female warrior from ancient times, walking briskly in the midst of a mystical and courageous battlefield. She is a beautiful, very buxom women with a slim waist, age 22, with long, red hair, and fierce blue eyes. This warrior is adorned in magnificent golden armor, meticulously crafted to reflect both strength and elegance. Her armor consists of a segmented deep v-neck breastplate with fine detailing, showcasing the tough yet graceful texture of metal, its curves following the athletic and powerful shape of her physique. Around her waist, a long, flowing crimson skirt cascades, made of thick, rich fabric that contrasts strikingly with the golden gleam of her armor, as if the deep red symbolizes bravery and the blood spilled on the battlefield. On her head, she wears a classic ancient Greek-style helmet topped with a crest of long, white horsehair plumes, resembling a regal mane, exuding authority and grandeur. The plumes appear soft yet sturdy, swaying gently in the breeze, adding dynamism to her focused and poised stance. Her long, red hair flows out from beneath the helmet, cascading down her shoulders and back, blending femininity with a firm, commanding presence. Her strong legs are wrapped in dark brown gladiator-style ankle high boots with block heels, displaying her physical strength and endurance. The background features a dramatic war-torn landscape, with a fiery red sky streaked with thick black clouds, creating a tense and emotional atmosphere, hinting at the monumental battle about to unfold. Add subtle details like glints of light reflecting off her armor, highlighting every angle and curve of the metal, and soft shadows cast on the red ground, creating depth and dimension in the visual composition. Ensure her facial expression is partially obscured by the helmet, yet still conveys profound calmness and determination, as if she is the last guardian of a legendary ancient kingdom. The dominant colors of red, gold, and black should harmonize beautifully, crafting an epic, mystical, and powerful ambiance.

EmilyJohnson
9 250

9 months ago

Abstract Full-Body Portrait of a Prostitute – Salvador Dalí (Late-Life Style, Singular Focus & Pure Surrealism) (Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.

ElectricL
8 400

9 months ago

Front view, hyper-realistic, full-length shot. Visualize an epic scene depicting a legendary female warrior from ancient times, standing resolute in the midst of a mystical and courageous battlefield. This warrior is adorned in magnificent golden armor, meticulously crafted to reflect both strength and elegance. Her armor consists of a segmented breastplate with fine detailing, showcasing the tough yet graceful texture of metal, its curves following the athletic and powerful shape of her physique. Around her waist, a long, flowing crimson skirt cascades, made of thick, rich fabric that contrasts strikingly with the golden gleam of her armor, as if the deep red symbolizes bravery and the blood spilled on the battlefield. On her head, she wears a classic ancient Greek-style helmet topped with a crest of long, white horsehair plumes, resembling a regal mane, exuding authority and grandeur. The plumes appear soft yet sturdy, swaying gently in the breeze, adding dynamism to her focused and poised stance. Her long, dark brown hair flows out from beneath the helmet, cascading down her shoulders and back, blending femininity with a firm, commanding presence. The warrior kneels on rich, red earth, her pose embodying both tranquility and readiness for battle, as if she is meditating or seeking the blessings of the war god before continuing the fight. Her strong legs are wrapped in dark brown gladiator-style sandals, with straps winding up to her calves, displaying her physical strength and endurance. The background features a dramatic war-torn landscape, with a fiery red sky streaked with thick black clouds, creating a tense and emotional atmosphere, hinting at the monumental battle about to unfold. Add subtle details like glints of light reflecting off her armor, highlighting every angle and curve of the metal, and soft shadows cast on the red ground, creating depth and dimension in the visual composition. Ensure her facial expression is partially obscured by the helmet, yet still conveys profound calmness and determination, as if she is the last guardian of a legendary ancient kingdom. The dominant colors of red, gold, and black should harmonize beautifully, crafting an epic, mystical, and powerful ambiance.

EmilyJohnson
8 310

7 months ago

((gritty, hyperrealistic painting:1.5)), ((Hulk and Superman locked in a brutal power struggle:1.5)), both hands clasped, fingers interlocked in a violent test of strength, muscles straining, tendons stretched to the limit. Superman, bruised, grounded, is down on one knee, his body twisting with resistance, arms trembling as he holds back the massive force bearing down on him. His blue suit is torn, his face bloodied, hair matted with sweat and soot, but his gaze is clear and defiant—no glowing eyes, only human resolve. The Hulk towers over him, full height—3 meters tall, 500 kilograms of brute muscle, drenched in sweat, skin streaked with grime and ash. His monstrous body looms with dominance, feet planted wide, both arms pressing down, veins bulging, face twisted in a roar of exertion. His skin cracks around his fists from the sheer pressure, saliva flying from his mouth as he snarls through clenched teeth. The ground beneath Superman’s knee is shattered, pressed inward by the weight. Shockwaves ripple through the dust, small stones hover in midair. The scene is dense with smoke, ash, and heat distortion, the ambient firelight casting flickering shadows over their bodies. Style: painted like an epic oil tableau—Caravaggio-like lighting, Repin’s anatomical drama, Beksiński’s apocalyptic ambiance. Every detail captured: grit on skin, blood at the lip, wrinkles in fabric, cracked stone, drifting embers, clenched fingers locked in struggle. Lighting: heavy chiaroscuro—low directional light from fires around them, long shadows falling across Superman’s face, rim lighting highlighting Hulk’s upper body, emphasizing the scale difference without diminishing the tension. Camera angle: low and close, from Superman’s left side, showing his knee pressed into shattered ground, arms lifted to hold off Hulk’s crushing weight. Hulk fills the vertical space, Superman dominates the emotional weight—a visual of pressure and refusal to yield. Art direction for Flux: – Hulk is 3m tall, 500kg, physically overwhelming, rendered with full weight and scale – Superman is human-scale, on one knee, but braced and locked in—the underdog with unbreakable resolve – Style: dark painterly realism, anatomical accuracy, no stylization, no superpowers shown – Textures: bruised flesh, torn cloth, cracked stone, sweat, grit, tension in the hands and faces – Environment: scorched battlefield, ambient smoke, sparks, fractured terrain, faint firelight – Theme: mythic struggle, physical scale vs inner will—no victor yet, only raw contest

ElectricL
6 190

5 months ago

Worm's-eye architectural view high angle half body photo of a 24-year-old Igbo-Slovak female chic Parisian woman with a Resource concealment strategy with face revealing complex calculation beyond simple hiding impulse, eyes methodically evaluating environmental integration possibilities, subtle satisfaction indicators at effective camouflage achievement, expression showing strategic thinking transcending immediate security concerns. facial expression. She has Full-body thermal regulation tattoos featuring specialized symbols that indicate optimal body positioning for different weather conditions wrapped around every limb and joint, skin has developed unusual mottled appearance from variable blood vessel dilation adapted into the design, strategic scarification creates insulative air pocket patterns across entire surface, face bearing emotional control reminders, hands tattooed with water quality testing methods.. The skin pores and texture are clearly visible and in focus. Her Large curved line eyes, Silky, deep purple eyes, framed by long, elegant eyelashes. Her haircut is Tactical buzz cut with entire head shaved to quarter-inch length, eliminating hair as vector for parasites or contaminants, requires minimal water for cleaning, offers no grip point for combat situations, reveals cooling points at base of skull.. Her eyebrows are neatly shaped, complementing her delicate facial features. Her body is Tight skin over the upper chest with firm, subtle muscle contours, small breast, toned abs, Female Bodybuilding style. She wears Retrofitted police tactical vest cut down to cover only upper chest, weight reduced by removing ballistic materials, institutional markings deliberately obscured with mud and paint, straps adjusted for desert mobility., midriff, Retrofitted basketball shorts with elasticity degraded and reinforced with woven plastic strips, waistband deliberately lowered, team colors faded from vibrant to subtle earth tones, ventilation holes added in grid pattern along sides., In the background Industrial freezer complex converted into a heavily insulated living environment offering rare relief from extreme heat, power generation focuses exclusively on maintaining the cooling systems, residency is determined through complex contribution metrics with cooling access strictly timed and allocated, the surrounding area has become a scorched wasteland making the facility a critical regional refuge.. She stands Safe Passage Negotiator position with body positioned between territorial groups creating neutral intermediary presence, stance carefully balanced presenting neither weakness nor threat, hands engaged in established diplomatic gestures, facial muscles controlled revealing neither fear nor aggression., looking to the camera. She is positioned on the left side in the frame by the rule of thirds. The weather is Flash floods from sudden intense localized rainfall creating walls of water 20 feet high that race through bone-dry watersheds, carrying away everything in their path with no warning, the water heavily laden with debris and often toxic from collecting industrial residues, evaporating completely within hours leaving mud-caked ruins.. the model is lighted with soft natural lighting in the style of Raven Frost

AkiraS
5 260

9 months ago

(Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.

ElectricL
4 170

9 months ago

Visualize an epic scene depicting a legendary female warrior from ancient times, standing resolute in the midst of a mystical and courageous battlefield. This warrior is adorned in magnificent golden armor, meticulously crafted to reflect both strength and elegance. Her armor consists of a segmented breastplate with fine detailing, showcasing the tough yet graceful texture of metal, its curves following the athletic and powerful shape of her physique. Around her waist, a long, flowing crimson skirt cascades, made of thick, rich fabric that contrasts strikingly with the golden gleam of her armor, as if the deep red symbolizes bravery and the blood spilled on the battlefield. On her head, she wears a classic ancient Greek-style helmet topped with a crest of long, white horsehair plumes, resembling a regal mane, exuding authority and grandeur. The plumes appear soft yet sturdy, swaying gently in the breeze, adding dynamism to her focused and poised stance. Her long, dark brown hair flows out from beneath the helmet, cascading down her shoulders and back, blending femininity with a firm, commanding presence. The warrior kneels on rich, red earth, her pose embodying both tranquility and readiness for battle, as if she is meditating or seeking the blessings of the war god before continuing the fight. Her strong legs are wrapped in dark brown gladiator-style sandals, with straps winding up to her calves, displaying her physical strength and endurance. The background features a dramatic war-torn landscape, with a fiery red sky streaked with thick black clouds, creating a tense and emotional atmosphere, hinting at the monumental battle about to unfold. Add subtle details like glints of light reflecting off her armor, highlighting every angle and curve of the metal, and soft shadows cast on the red ground, creating depth and dimension in the visual composition. Ensure her facial expression is partially obscured by the helmet, yet still conveys profound calmness and determination, as if she is the last guardian of a legendary ancient kingdom. The dominant colors of red, gold, and black should harmonize beautifully, crafting an epic, mystical, and powerful ambiance.

Djambals
3 120

9 months ago

A **dark and twisted Wonderland** unfurls, transformed into a **haunting nightmare** where every corner pulses with malevolent energy. The once whimsical landscape is now warped, twisted, and drenched in an unsettling, nightmarish atmosphere. The ground beneath your feet is cracked, like the skin of some ancient beast, with dark roots curling through the earth like sinister veins, pulsating with an eerie life force. The air is thick with a palpable tension, a heavy weight that presses against your chest. Above, the sky churns in a swirling maelstrom of deep **purple** and **blood-red** hues, the colors constantly shifting, as though the heavens themselves are in torment. These ominous clouds swirl with an unnatural force, casting shifting shadows and strange, ghostly lights that dance across the land below. The air crackles with the whispers of long-forgotten creatures, their voices an unsettling mix of laughter and cries of anguish. The trees, once delicate and enchanting, now writhe in grotesque forms, their gnarled branches twisted into horrific shapes, reaching like skeletal fingers towards the sky. Their leaves are dark, almost black, with sharp edges, resembling jagged claws. Strange, glowing eyes peer out from the darkness between the trees, watching, waiting. The familiar figures of Wonderland are no longer innocent and playful. The **Mad Hatter's** hat is tattered, his grin more menacing than ever, his eyes glowing with madness. The **White Rabbit** scurries past with a twisted, skeletal form, its fur matted and stained, leaving a trail of blood behind it as it vanishes into the shadows. The **Cheshire Cat** grins wider, its smile stretching unnaturally across its face, revealing sharp, jagged teeth, its body flickering in and out of existence like a ghost in the fog. A crooked, decaying mansion looms in the distance, its windows shattered, leaking an eerie greenish light that pulses with each beat of the land's dark heart. The walls of the mansion seem to breathe, expanding and contracting, as if it is alive with some ancient malevolent force. The sound of dripping water echoes through the air, but it’s not water—it's blood, flowing in a slow, rhythmic stream that stains the cracked ground red. In the distance, the sound of distant bells tolls—deep, mournful chimes that reverberate through the land, signifying the passage of time in this nightmarish realm. The landscape seems to pulse and shift, an ever-changing labyrinth of fear, madness, and decay, drawing you deeper into its twisted heart. The entire scene is bathed in an unnatural light, as if the moon itself has been swallowed by the madness of Wonderland, leaving only an unsettling, shifting glow that amplifies the nightmarish nature of this once-innocent world. This is no longer Wonderland. It is a place of horror, a **haunting nightmare** under the oppressive weight of a **swirling purple and blood-red sky**, where the laws of reality have been bent and broken, and only darkness and fear reign.; 8k, intricate detail, photorealistic, realistic light, wide angle

Slinkychips PRO
2 110

7 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
2 140

6 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo High noon, oh I'd sell my soul for water, Nine years worth of breakin' my back. There's no sun in the shadow of the wizard. See how he glides, why he's lighter than air. Oh, I see his face. Where is your star? Is it far? When do we leave? I believe, yes, I believe In the heat and the rain. With whips and chains. To see him fly. So many died. We build a tower of stone. With our flesh and bone. Just to see him fly. But don't know why. Now where do we go? Hot wind moving fast across the desert. We feel that our time has arrived. The world spins while we put his dream together. A tower of stone to take him straight to the sky. All eyes see the figure of the wizard. As he climbs to the top of the world. No sound, as he falls instead of rising. Time standing still, then there's blood on the sand. But why, In all the rain With all the chains Did so many die Just to see him fly? Look at my flesh and bone. Look at his tower of stone I see a rainbow rising Look there on the horizon. And I'm coming home. Time is standing still, He gave back my will My eyes are bleeding, And my heart is leaving here. The place I've known, But it's not home, Take me back. No poorly formed fingers, no extra arms, no extra legs, no extra fingers, no poorly formed hands, no poorly drawn body, no poorly drawn teeth, no bad anatomy.

ClintD PRO
2 73