as if carried by a dream FLUX prompts

9 months ago

A barren, sun-scorched world stretches before you, its landscape dotted with the skeletal remains of a once-thriving civilization. Crumbling stone structures, half-buried in dust, hint at a forgotten people whose voices have long since faded into the silence of time. The twin suns cast an eerie golden glow over the ruins, creating long shadows that dance across the cracked earth. At the heart of the desolation, a single artifact remains untouched—a delicate wooden flute, resting on a worn stone pedestal, its surface smoothed by the passage of centuries. The wind carries a ghostly echo of music, a melody that no living soul has played in a thousand years. Faint spectral figures flicker in the distance, their outlines shimmering like heat mirages—glimpses of the past, moments frozen in time. This is a place where history lingers, unseen yet deeply felt. The silence is deafening, yet the weight of an entire civilization’s hopes, dreams, and love is imprinted in every grain of sand. This is not just a ruin; it is a graveyard of memory, a testament to the fleeting nature of existence. Depict the melancholy beauty of this forgotten world, emphasizing the contrast between the endless march of time and the fragile permanence of a single, cherished melody.

8 months ago

A spectral figure, half-formed from wisps of silver and shadow, rises from the still body below. The soul, luminous and fragile, drifts upward, dissolving into the vast, obsidian void speckled with fading embers of existence. Ethereal ribbons of light stretch and coil around the departing essence, whispering the echoes of forgotten dreams. The air shimmers with an eerie, unearthly glow—both mournful and divine. A silent wind carries the final breath into the infinite unknown, where the veil between life and eternity shivers and parts. Beauty and sorrow intertwine in a delicate ballet of departure, as the universe inhales the lost soul into its boundless embrace.

8 months ago

A spectral figure, half-formed from wisps of silver and shadow, rises from the still body below. The soul, luminous and fragile, drifts upward, dissolving into the vast, obsidian void speckled with fading embers of existence. Ethereal ribbons of light stretch and coil around the departing essence, whispering the echoes of forgotten dreams. The air shimmers with an eerie, unearthly glow—both mournful and divine. A silent wind carries the final breath into the infinite unknown, where the veil between life and eternity shivers and parts. Beauty and sorrow intertwine in a delicate ballet of departure, as the universe inhales the lost soul into its boundless embrace.

8 months ago

A mysterious phantom figure walking through neon-lit fog, a shadow dissolving into the night. A lone sailor made of chrome, reflecting the city lights. The scene is cinematic and surreal, with a melancholic and futuristic atmosphere. Wind swirls around, carrying whispers of forgotten dreams. The background is a vast urban skyline, filled with glowing signs and deep blue hues. The figure appears untouchable, like a ghost of rock 'n' roll legends. The lighting is dramatic, high contrast, with a mix of cold neon blues and warm golden highlights.

8 months ago

A mysterious phantom figure walking through neon-lit fog, a shadow dissolving into the night. A lone sailor made of chrome, reflecting the city lights. The scene is cinematic and surreal, with a melancholic and futuristic atmosphere. Wind swirls around, carrying whispers of forgotten dreams. The background is a vast urban skyline, filled with glowing signs and deep blue hues. The figure appears untouchable, like a ghost of rock 'n' roll legends. The lighting is dramatic, high contrast, with a mix of cold neon blues and warm golden highlights.

8 months ago

A spectral figure, half-formed from wisps of silver and shadow, rises from the still body below. The soul, luminous and fragile, drifts upward, dissolving into the vast, obsidian void speckled with fading embers of existence. Ethereal ribbons of light stretch and coil around the departing essence, whispering the echoes of forgotten dreams. The air shimmers with an eerie, unearthly glow—both mournful and divine. A silent wind carries the final breath into the infinite unknown, where the veil between life and eternity shivers and parts. Beauty and sorrow intertwine in a delicate ballet of departure, as the universe inhales the lost soul into its boundless embrace.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

1 day ago

Elegant impasto oil painting in high relief, depicting a solitary woman standing in front of a vintage green train surrounded by a vast field of golden flowers. The train releases a soft cloud of cotton flowers — vibrant, colorful, and luminous — floating upward like a dream. Each cotton bloom glows with hues of blue, pink, and amber, inspired by bas-relief art and diamond painting textures on white burlap, blending traditional oil technique with digital elegance. The woman stands calmly before the train, her white skirt flowing gently, her red blouse sculpted with thick golden brushstrokes. Her hair is styled in a graceful Audrey Hepburn updo, symbolizing timeless beauty and poise. The atmosphere glows with HDR-like radiance, neon smoke effects, and a luminogram depth, blending realism with fantasy. The field of yellow flowers glistens in the light, and the sky carries the whisper of transformation — a poetic moment when color takes flight through cotton and light.

6 months ago

A majestic, ethereal creature glides silently through a mist-shrouded dream glade. Xuneshava’s body is a graceful blend of feline strength and vulpine elegance: Velvet paws press lightly into the mist without leaving a mark. Her body arches and flows like a river of breath and light. Her fur flows like living mist, colored in soft, shifting ribbons of pink, moonlit white, and glowing teal. Subtle black ripple patterns run along her shoulders and sides, as if memories are tattooed into her mistwoven skin. Her eyes are deep luminous teal, wide and endless, shimmering like twilight gardens reflected in silver water. Above her head, a delicate halo of drifting moonblossoms floats — each blossom glowing and softly shifting colors in time with her unseen breath. Flowing behind her is a single, immense mist-tail — vast, shimmering, and dreamlike. The tail twists and undulates like a river of silk, ending in gentle petal-like wisps that glow in pastel light. The tail carries faint trails of pollen mist and tiny memory-lights in its wake. Around her, the glade breathes softly: Crystal-bloom trees arch overhead, their branches dripping with silver mist. The ground is a carpet of glowing, sleeping flowers. Mistfireflies drift lazily, illuminating the air with faint pulses of hope.

5 months ago

"Yi Peng Lantern Festival in Thailand, reimagined with lanterns that carry individual dreams into a sky populated by benevolent sky whales and star spirits."​​​

8 months ago

A mysterious phantom figure walking through neon-lit fog, a shadow dissolving into the night. A lone sailor made of chrome, reflecting the city lights. The scene is cinematic and surreal, with a melancholic and futuristic atmosphere. Wind swirls around, carrying whispers of forgotten dreams. The background is a vast urban skyline, filled with glowing signs and deep blue hues. The figure appears untouchable, like a ghost of rock 'n' roll legends. The lighting is dramatic, high contrast, with a mix of cold neon blues and warm golden highlights.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

4 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.