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

all oppressive FLUX prompts

very few results

9 months ago

Dark fantasy scene, a solitary, living woman stands in the center of an endless void, her presence both fragile and immense. Her body glows faintly, and radiant beams of golden light erupt powerfully from within her, piercing the infinite darkness. These beams stream upward and outward, pulsating with life, as if drawn from her very soul. She tilts her head upward toward the unseen heavens, her closed eyes glowing faintly with golden energy. Her expression is a mix of awe and quiet sorrow, alive with subtle emotion. Her delicate skin shimmers faintly in the light she emanates, glowing with warm undertones of gold and pale ivory. Her flowing robes ripple gently, as though stirred by an unseen wind in the still void, their intricate fabric textured with exquisite detail. The void itself is vast and all-consuming, but it feels alive, with faint gradients of dark blue and deep black, layered with subtle distortions that ripple outward from her form. The golden light reflects faintly on the dust-like motes suspended in the void, creating a faint halo of life around her, contrasting sharply with the oppressive emptiness. The composition is cinematic, her small, radiant figure juxtaposed against the overwhelming vastness of the void. Every detail—her glowing skin, the dynamic motion of the beams, and the subtle shifts in her garments—emphasizes her vitality and the stark isolation of her eternal imprisonment. The golden beams scatter faint, fractured light across the void, creating an interplay of brightness and shadow that enhances the emotional depth of the scene

8 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

3 months ago

A dark, decayed factory steeped in dampness and neglect. Rows of broken, lifeless androids hang from chains and diagnostic cables, their battered forms suspended like relics of a forgotten era. Each android faces forward, their heads slumped and limbs dangling limply, as if gravity alone holds them in place. The androids are diverse—some humanoid with slender frames and fragmented synthetic skin, others industrial with exposed hydraulics, rusted plating, and shattered components. Many are missing limbs, their wires and cables hanging loosely, sparking faintly in the oppressive gloom. Among the rows, two androids stand out—their hands intertwined in a final act of connection before their power cells died. One is humanoid, its delicate features cracked and weathered, its synthetic skin peeling to reveal intricate, rusting frameworks. The other is industrial, bulkier, with heavier plating and exposed joints, its arm barely holding on by a tangle of wires. Their clasped hands emit a faint glow, flickering like dying embers, the last remnant of their shared existence. The factory is drenched in atmosphere. Thick haze and mist cling to every surface, illuminated by the weak, flickering glow of malfunctioning CRT screens and sparking cables. Dim red light spills from a cracked overhead lamp, casting diffuse shadows across the room. A faint, rhythmic drip echoes through the cavernous space, the sound amplified by the oppressive silence. A flickering sign above the rows reads: “ANDROID MULTI-PURPOSE FOUNDRY.” The foundry walls are lined with rusted, obsolete machinery and control panels. Pools of stagnant water collect on the floor, reflecting the faint, scattered light in jagged, broken patterns. Dust and smoke swirl in the air, cutting through the faint godrays that streak through shattered skylights, further obscured by the thick haze. The shadows of dangling chains and lifeless androids create eerie silhouettes on the mist-covered walls. The atmosphere is suffocatingly gritty, a testament to the decay of innovation. The androids stand as silent witnesses to a bygone era, their shattered forms a chilling reflection of the hubris and failure of their creators. The two holding hands, surrounded by rows of decaying machines, remain a quiet, haunting symbol of connection amidst the ruin.

9 months ago

A small submarine navigates the deepest, most isolated part of the Mariana Trench, where no natural light can reach. The scene is enveloped in an impenetrable void of absolute darkness, with no water surface, no reflections, and no ambient glow. The environment is entirely alien, and the submarine’s floodlights are the sole source of illumination, casting narrow beams through the black abyss. As the lights cut through the void, they briefly reveal the shadowy silhouette of a colossal sea monster (1.6), its massive form mostly hidden by the overwhelming darkness. Only fragmented details are visible: a faint, glowing eye (1.4), the outline of jagged fins, and armor-like scales. The rest of the creature disappears into the blackness, emphasizing its immense size and the unknowable danger it poses. The submarine appears fragile, its lights carving out small sanctuaries of visibility in the infinite abyss. Fine particles of sediment drift lazily through the beams, glowing faintly like suspended stardust, adding texture to the void. Small bioluminescent creatures flicker in electric blue, green, and violet, darting briefly through the lights before vanishing again into the darkness. The trench itself is a suffocating expanse of blackness, stretching endlessly in every direction. There is no surface, no water layers, and no ambient light—only the submarine and its lights exist in this oppressive, otherworldly environment. The composition is cinematic, with the submarine’s beams forming the focal point, casting sharp contrasts of light and shadow. The monster’s glowing eye and faint outline add a haunting, mysterious presence, highlighting the profound isolation and alien beauty of Earth’s deepest frontier

7 months ago

The Bell family's farmhouse exudes a rustic charm, with its simple yet functional furnishings typical of early 19th-century Tennessee. The wooden floorboards creak softly underfoot, their surface worn smooth by years of use. A large hearth dominates one wall, its embers casting a faint orange glow that dances across the room. A sturdy oak table, scarred with knife marks and stains from countless meals, sits at the center, surrounded by mismatched chairs. A woven rug lies askew near the rocking chair, which now stands eerily still. Pewter dishes and earthenware line the shelves of a tall cupboard, their muted shine catching the flicker of candlelight. The faint scent of beeswax mingles with the earthy aroma of the surrounding farmland, creating an atmosphere both homely and unsettling. In the dim light, the Bell Witch emerges, her form both ethereal and unnervingly vivid. Her face is a haunting visage of pale, almost translucent skin stretched tightly over sharp cheekbones. Hollow eyes, glowing faintly with an unnatural light, seem to pierce through the very fabric of reality, locking onto her observer with an intensity that chills the soul. Her lips are thin and cracked, twisted into a faint, mocking smile that hints at her malevolent intent. Wisps of dark, unkempt hair frame her face, moving as if stirred by an invisible breeze. Her tattered garments, a patchwork of shadow and spectral light, shimmer faintly, as though caught between the physical and the otherworldly. As she steps closer, the air grows colder, and the oppressive silence is broken only by the faint sound of her whispered laughter—a sound that seems to echo from every corner of the room. Her presence transforms the farmhouse, turning its rustic charm into a stage for fear and despair, as the Bell Witch stands as a chilling embodiment of the unknown."

9 months ago

A devout paladin, clad in battered and blood-streaked armor, stands defiantly on a scorched battlefield engulfed in chaos. His armor, marked with deep scratches and dents from countless battles, gleams faintly in the dim light. The red cross emblazoned on his chest is bold and unwavering, a symbol of his faith and devotion to protecting the innocent in the name of Christ. The paladin grips a long, battle-worn sword tightly in both hands, its blade shining brightly as it cuts through the oppressive darkness. His stance is firm, his legs braced against the ground, as he prepares to face the overwhelming hordes of evil that surround him. His cloak flutters violently in the wind, its tattered edges trailing behind him, adding motion and drama to the scene. Around him, an endless sea of grotesque demons and monstrous creatures surges forward, their twisted forms clawing and snarling as they attempt to overwhelm him. Their glowing red eyes and jagged, deformed bodies create an atmosphere of pure terror. Some demons leap through the air, their claws reaching for the paladin, while others charge from the ground, their grotesque mouths wide with fury. The battlefield trembles with their combined strength. Despite the insurmountable odds, the paladin’s face is filled with intense determination, his furrowed brow and gritted teeth reflecting his unyielding resolve. He fights with the light of faith burning in his soul, the Holy power radiating faintly from his sword. The blade itself appears to glow with divine energy, each swing slicing through the darkness, pushing back the hordes of evil with righteous fury. The battlefield is a chaotic wasteland, littered with shattered bones, glowing embers, and the remnants of other fallen warriors. The air is thick with smoke and ash, and volumetric light breaks through the gloom, highlighting the clash between good and evil. The dark sky above churns with storm clouds, illuminated by flashes of distant lightning, adding a dramatic backdrop to the scene. The paladin stands as a lone figure of hope and faith against the overwhelming darkness, his armor catching the faint Holy light as he fights valiantly. The contrast between the paladin’s glowing sword and the writhing masses of demons creates a powerful, cinematic image of one man’s unshakable faith and courage in the face of immeasurable odds.