Everything is lost FLUX prompts

17 days ago

Minimalist sci-fi scene depicting a bleak future. Everything is lost. Memories and our souls are granulated for use in the Recycling Plant where old men are studied to access their deepest experiences. But there is secret new weapon, a powerful new toxin which can destroy Droids who work in the Recycling Plant. The strange Doctor administers the toxin. The Droids begin to crumble into dust and bone. Subdued colour pallete.

5 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo ofDale Anne is a mermaid on the sand, Reaching out with helpless hands, For someone to understand, Sometimes I get to thinking of the way she used to cry It makes me want to rise and paint her picture on the sky, So everyone could see how sadly beautiful she is And bring sunshine to the darkness where she lives. Dale Anne is a bird with frozen wings, She's the queen of everything That's been forgotten by the spring. She has been deserted by the ones she used to trust Packing up their promises, they vanished in the dust, Standing at the crossroads of tomorrow and goodbye She's lost inside of other peoples' lives. Dale Anne is a song that no-one hears, Holding memories like a mirror, Reflecting images of tears. All her faithless vagabonds have finished with their scenes She remains discarded in the graveyard of her dreams. Whenever I see roses helpless in the rain My thoughts go turning back to Dale Anne. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. 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..

9 months ago

A lone figure sits bathed in the soft, flickering glow of a starship cabin, shoulders heavy with the weight of a lifetime that never was. The universe outside the viewport is an endless abyss, speckled with distant stars, yet in this moment, he is entirely alone. A single overhead light casts a gentle, golden illumination on his face, highlighting the silent tears tracing lines of grief down his cheeks. The shadows of the room stretch long and deep, enveloping everything except for the delicate artifact in his hands—a simple, well-worn flute, its polished surface catching the light with a quiet reverence. The illumination subtly shifts, as if responding to the weight of his sorrow—soft highlights glisten on his fingertips as they gently trace the contours of the instrument, a memory made tangible. A cool, blue glow from the ship’s control panels faintly reflects off the metal walls, emphasizing the vast sterility of his present against the warmth of the past. The flute’s presence, however, remains bathed in warm light, a contrast that suggests something more than an object—an anchor to a life erased by time. This is a moment where memory and reality blur into one, where light and shadow mirror the ache of remembering something beautiful yet irretrievably lost. The soft glow on his features is not just illumination—it is the warmth of love long gone, the fading embers of a world that exists only in his heart. The universe moves on, unaware—but for him, a melody remains, flickering like a candle in the dark, an echo of a life that will never fade.

3 months ago

A powerful half-orc barbarian in his 40s, weathered and battle-scarred, with graying black hair tied back and piercing amber eyes filled with determination and loss. He wears practical leather with the Flaming Fist emblem, showing signs of heavy use and travel. In his massive hands he grips ‘Verdetto Finale’ - a perfectly balanced greataxe with Tyr’s scales symbol etched into the blade, the weapon gleaming with faint golden light. His expression is stoic but intense, with prominent orcish tusks and facial scars telling stories of countless battles. The background suggests the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate at dusk, with smoke rising in the distance. Dark fantasy art style, realistic proportions, dramatic lighting emphasizing his imposing presence as a guardian who has lost everything but his duty. Weathered hands show calluses from decades of weapon training. His stance is protective yet ready for violence, embodying both the disciplined soldier and the barely contained fury of a zealot barbarian. He fights with a double handed axe. He is a gentle a good hearted man.

5 months ago

"A sickly, emaciated cat sits slumped in his dimly-lit room, illuminated only by the eerie glow of his computer screen displaying volatile crypto/stock charts. His fur is unkempt, his eyes bloodshot and sunken from sleep deprivation. He’s gripping the armrests of his chair with bony paws, forcing a cracked, manic smile at the camera—like he’s trying to convince himself (and the viewer) that he’s ‘winning.’ The room is littered with empty energy drink cans, crumpled trading notes, and a half-eaten can of ‘discount tuna’ (his ‘diamond hands’ meal). Comic-style but highly detailed, with exaggerated shadows to emphasize his descent into financial and physical ruin. Dark humor vibe: think ‘Garfield if he lost everything on leverage.’"

3 months ago

A powerful half-orc barbarian in his 40s, weathered and battle-scarred, with graying black hair tied back and piercing amber eyes filled with determination and loss. He wears practical leather with the Flaming Fist emblem, showing signs of heavy use and travel. In his massive hands he grips ‘Verdetto Finale’ - a perfectly balanced greataxe with Tyr’s scales symbol etched into the blade, the weapon gleaming with faint golden light. His expression is stoic but intense, with prominent orcish tusks and facial scars telling stories of countless battles. The background suggests the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate at dusk, with smoke rising in the distance. Dark fantasy art style, realistic proportions, dramatic lighting emphasizing his imposing presence as a guardian who has lost everything but his duty. Weathered hands show calluses from decades of weapon training. His stance is protective yet ready for violence, embodying both the disciplined soldier and the barely contained fury of a zealot barbarian. He fights with a double handed axe.

17 days ago

Create an atmospheric highly realistic Minimalist sci-fi scene depicting a bleak future. Everything is lost. Memories and our souls are granulated for use in the Recycling Plant where old men are torn apart to access their deepest experiences. But there is secret new weapon, a powerful new toxin which can destroy Droids who work in the Recycling Plant. The strange Doctor administers the toxin. The Droids begin to crumble into dust and blood. Subdued colour pallete of blues and greys. Highly dystopian disturbing scene. --ar 4:3 --raw

17 days ago

Minimalist sci-fi scene depicting a bleak future. Everything is lost. Memories and our souls are granulated for use in the Recycling Plant where old men are torn apart to access their deepest experiences. But there is secret new weapon, a powerful new toxin which can destroy Droids who work in the Recycling Plant. The strange Doctor administers the toxin. The Droids begin to crumble into dust and blood. Subdued colour pallete of blues and greys. Highly dystopian disturbing scene.

17 days ago

Minimalist sci-fi scene depicting a bleak future. Everything is lost. Memories and our souls are granulated for use in the Recycling Plant where old men are studied to access their deepest experiences. But there is secret new weapon, a powerful new toxin which can destroy Droids who work in the Recycling Plant. The strange Doctor administers the toxin. The Droids begin to crumble into dust and bone. Subdued colour pallete.

5 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo ofDale Anne is a mermaid on the sand, Reaching out with helpless hands, For someone to understand, Sometimes I get to thinking of the way she used to cry It makes me want to rise and paint her picture on the sky, So everyone could see how sadly beautiful she is And bring sunshine to the darkness where she lives. Dale Anne is a bird with frozen wings, She's the queen of everything That's been forgotten by the spring. She has been deserted by the ones she used to trust Packing up their promises, they vanished in the dust, Standing at the crossroads of tomorrow and goodbye She's lost inside of other peoples' lives. Dale Anne is a song that no-one hears, Holding memories like a mirror, Reflecting images of tears. All her faithless vagabonds have finished with their scenes She remains discarded in the graveyard of her dreams. Whenever I see roses helpless in the rain My thoughts go turning back to Dale Anne. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. 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..

5 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo ofDale Anne is a mermaid on the sand, Reaching out with helpless hands, For someone to understand, Sometimes I get to thinking of the way she used to cry It makes me want to rise and paint her picture on the sky, So everyone could see how sadly beautiful she is And bring sunshine to the darkness where she lives. Dale Anne is a bird with frozen wings, She's the queen of everything That's been forgotten by the spring. She has been deserted by the ones she used to trust Packing up their promises, they vanished in the dust, Standing at the crossroads of tomorrow and goodbye She's lost inside of other peoples' lives. Dale Anne is a song that no-one hears, Holding memories like a mirror, Reflecting images of tears. All her faithless vagabonds have finished with their scenes She remains discarded in the graveyard of her dreams. Whenever I see roses helpless in the rain My thoughts go turning back to Dale Anne. 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.

5 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo ofDale Anne is a mermaid on the sand, Reaching out with helpless hands, For someone to understand, Sometimes I get to thinking of the way she used to cry It makes me want to rise and paint her picture on the sky, So everyone could see how sadly beautiful she is And bring sunshine to the darkness where she lives. Dale Anne is a bird with frozen wings, She's the queen of everything That's been forgotten by the spring. She has been deserted by the ones she used to trust Packing up their promises, they vanished in the dust, Standing at the crossroads of tomorrow and goodbye She's lost inside of other peoples' lives. Dale Anne is a song that no-one hears, Holding memories like a mirror, Reflecting images of tears. All her faithless vagabonds have finished with their scenes She remains discarded in the graveyard of her dreams. Whenever I see roses helpless in the rain My thoughts go turning back to Dale Anne. 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.

5 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo ofDale Anne is a mermaid on the sand, Reaching out with helpless hands, For someone to understand, Sometimes I get to thinking of the way she used to cry It makes me want to rise and paint her picture on the sky, So everyone could see how sadly beautiful she is And bring sunshine to the darkness where she lives. Dale Anne is a bird with frozen wings, She's the queen of everything That's been forgotten by the spring. She has been deserted by the ones she used to trust Packing up their promises, they vanished in the dust, Standing at the crossroads of tomorrow and goodbye She's lost inside of other peoples' lives. Dale Anne is a song that no-one hears, Holding memories like a mirror, Reflecting images of tears. All her faithless vagabonds have finished with their scenes She remains discarded in the graveyard of her dreams. Whenever I see roses helpless in the rain My thoughts go turning back to Dale Anne. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. 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..

5 months ago

Hyper realistic, photo realism, High Contrast, insanely detailed and intricate, elegant, ornate, super detailed zoomed out side view full body HD Photo ofDale Anne is a mermaid on the sand, Reaching out with helpless hands, For someone to understand, Sometimes I get to thinking of the way she used to cry It makes me want to rise and paint her picture on the sky, So everyone could see how sadly beautiful she is And bring sunshine to the darkness where she lives. Dale Anne is a bird with frozen wings, She's the queen of everything That's been forgotten by the spring. She has been deserted by the ones she used to trust Packing up their promises, they vanished in the dust, Standing at the crossroads of tomorrow and goodbye She's lost inside of other peoples' lives. Dale Anne is a song that no-one hears, Holding memories like a mirror, Reflecting images of tears. All her faithless vagabonds have finished with their scenes She remains discarded in the graveyard of her dreams. Whenever I see roses helpless in the rain My thoughts go turning back to Dale Anne. it is night time, there are dark clouds rolling in on the night sky on the Reddish Orange sunset in the background. 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..

7 months ago

The crypt is shrouded in darkness, broken only by the flickering light of a few torches. The aged and weathered walls exude an air of decay and mystery, while shadows dance across the rough stone surfaces. The floor is littered with bones and skulls, silent witnesses to long-lost times. The entire scene emanates a macabre beauty, as if the crypt itself embodies eternity. In the center of this ominous space stands the vampire. His figure is powerful and menacing, long black Hair. clad in black armor adorned with sinister elements: skulls and bone-like structures that give the armor a grim appearance. His movements are deliberate and graceful as he prepares to rest, every gesture imbued with an ancient elegance. The vampire carefully inspects his resting place—a sarcophagus lined with velvet—as the flames of the torches cast an eerie glow upon his face. His eyes, cold and gleaming, reflect an intelligence and fearlessness shaped only by timelessness. Everything about this scene is a blend of foreboding and mysticism, as if the vampire himself is a living embodiment of the surrounding darkness.

7 months ago

The crypt is shrouded in darkness, broken only by the flickering light of a few torches. The aged and weathered walls exude an air of decay and mystery, while shadows dance across the rough stone surfaces. The floor is littered with bones and skulls, silent witnesses to long-lost times. The entire scene emanates a macabre beauty, as if the crypt itself embodies eternity. In the center of this ominous space stands the vampire. His figure is powerful and menacing, long black Hair. clad in black armor adorned with sinister elements: skulls and bone-like structures that give the armor a grim appearance. His movements are deliberate and graceful as he prepares to rest, every gesture imbued with an ancient elegance. The vampire carefully inspects his resting place—a sarcophagus lined with velvet—as the flames of the torches cast an eerie glow upon his face. His eyes, cold and gleaming, reflect an intelligence and fearlessness shaped only by timelessness. Everything about this scene is a blend of foreboding and mysticism, as if the vampire himself is a living embodiment of the surrounding darkness.