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

as if drawn from her very soul FLUX prompts

very few results

8 months ago

Ultra-photorealistic cinematic film still of Alicia Vikander reimagined as the Grim Reaper, blending her natural beauty with an aura of haunting power and timeless authority. Her face is ethereal and striking, her sharp cheekbones and soft jawline accentuated by the cold, spectral glow of the surrounding light. Her skin is an ashen, porcelain hue, smooth yet unnervingly flawless, with faint, silvery veins visible just beneath the surface. Her deep brown eyes glow faintly with an otherworldly silver light, exuding both wisdom and an unrelenting inevitability. Her lips, slightly parted, are a dark, muted plum, adding to her haunting yet elegant appearance. Her hair is raven black, cascading in long, flowing waves that shimmer faintly as if touched by a supernatural breeze. Wisps of silvery mist weave through the strands, catching the dim light and creating an almost halo-like effect. Around her head hovers a faint, incorporeal crown of glowing runes, shifting and flickering like dying embers, signifying her dominion over life and death. She is dressed in an avant-garde interpretation of the Reaper’s cloak: a sleek, black, floor-length robe with intricate textures resembling flowing smoke and shadows. The fabric seems almost alive, shifting subtly as though it’s a part of the darkness itself. The edges of the cloak are frayed and dissolve into ethereal mist, giving her an otherworldly, intangible quality. Beneath the robe, glimpses of silvery armor etched with ancient, cryptic symbols are visible, hinting at her role as a celestial enforcer. Her hood is drawn back, revealing her face, but the shadows of the hood frame her features in a dramatic, gothic contrast. In her right hand, she wields a scythe unlike any other: its massive blade is forged from a gleaming black metal that reflects faint, ghostly images of souls. The staff is carved from a dark, polished wood entwined with glowing silver runes that pulse faintly, as though alive. Her left hand hovers slightly, trailing a faint mist of spectral energy that curls and dissipates into the surrounding air. The background is a surreal, otherworldly landscape: a vast, barren expanse shrouded in mist, with jagged, obsidian-like rock formations rising into the sky. The horizon glows faintly with an eerie, greenish-blue light, as if it’s the border between the world of the living and the dead. Shadowy silhouettes of wandering souls drift aimlessly in the distance, their faint whispers almost audible in the stillness. Above, the sky is a chaotic swirl of dark clouds, pierced by occasional streaks of ethereal light that illuminate the scene in fleeting bursts. The lighting is dramatic, with cold, pale blue and green tones dominating the scene, casting Alicia’s figure in sharp relief. The glowing runes on her armor and scythe cast subtle, shifting light patterns on her robes and the ground. Her face is illuminated by a soft, ghostly glow, emphasizing her beauty while adding an unnerving edge to her expression. Shadows play dynamically across her figure, enhancing the ethereal, otherworldly atmosphere. Her expression is calm and resolute, with a faint, enigmatic smile that suggests she understands the inevitability of her role. Her eyes convey both compassion and an uncompromising sense of duty, embodying the dual nature of the Grim Reaper as both a harbinger of death and a guide for lost souls. There’s a sense of timeless authority in her posture, as though she has walked the boundary between life and death for eternity. This ultra-photorealistic image is indistinguishable from a professional cinematic film still, with every detail—from the textures of her cloak and scythe to the eerie, atmospheric backdrop—rendered in breathtaking precision. The mood is chilling, majestic, and steeped in gothic gravitas.

7 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 towering, 11-foot-tall guardian stands imposingly in front of a colossal, ornate gate carved into the face of a mountain. The gate is ancient and majestic, adorned with intricate reliefs of mythical battles and glowing runes that pulse faintly with golden light. The guardian clutches his massive, magical greatsword (1.5) with both hands, the blade’s tip resting lightly against the ground. The sword radiates a faint, otherworldly glow, its steel engraved with intricate Arabic inscriptions (1.3) that shimmer and shift like living magic. The runes pulse faintly in hues of gold and white, as if alive with ancient power, casting a soft glow that illuminates the guardian’s massive frame. The guardian’s presence is commanding and awe-inspiring. His muscular body, forged through countless battles, is clad in rich purple garments (1.2) trimmed with golden threads, the fabric flowing lightly in the breeze. A golden belt (0.8) with ornate patterns cinches his waist, the intricate craftsmanship suggesting divine origins. Around his thick, powerful neck hangs a massive steel chain (1.3), its links worn and weathered, each one bearing marks of age and strength. His long, Viking-styled hair (1.2) cascades over his broad shoulders, framing his great beard (1.5), which is intricately braided and glimmers faintly in the light. His piercing eyes (1.5), glowing faintly with a cold, icy intensity, strike fear into all who meet his gaze, as though they peer directly into the soul. The scene is alive with subtle, magical energy. Around the sword’s blade, faint arcs of golden light (1.2) ripple and flicker, forming a delicate aura that crackles like restrained lightning. The air around the guardian is heavy, charged with a divine power that seems to bend the very atmosphere. The ground beneath his feet is cracked and scorched, as if unable to bear the weight of his presence. In the background, the gate looms higher than any mortal construction, its glowing runes and faint whispers of magic emphasizing its connection to realms beyond. The lighting is dramatic and cinematic, with the faint glow of the sword and gate runes casting warm golden highlights across the guardian’s muscular form and purple garments. The shadows that stretch behind him are deep and foreboding, creating a stark contrast that amplifies his commanding presence. The environment is desolate yet sacred—winds howl softly through the barren terrain, carrying faint whispers, and distant storm clouds gather, streaked with flashes of silent lightning, as though the heavens themselves acknowledge his might. The composition centers the guardian and his greatsword, emphasizing his towering size and commanding aura. The viewer’s gaze is drawn from the glowing inscriptions on the blade, up through his massive frame, to his piercing eyes and the ancient gate behind him. The entire scene breathes power, fear, and reverence, encapsulating the might of a being that guards the threshold to another world.

3 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.

3 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.

3 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.

8 months ago

A towering, 11-foot-tall guardian stands imposingly in front of a colossal, ornate gate carved into the face of a mountain. The gate is ancient and majestic, adorned with intricate reliefs of mythical battles and glowing runes that pulse faintly with golden light. The guardian clutches his massive, magical greatsword (1.5) with both hands, the blade’s tip resting lightly against the ground. The sword radiates a faint, otherworldly glow, its steel engraved with intricate Arabic inscriptions (1.3) that shimmer and shift like living magic. The runes pulse faintly in hues of gold and white, as if alive with ancient power, casting a soft glow that illuminates the guardian’s massive frame. The guardian’s presence is commanding and awe-inspiring. His muscular body, forged through countless battles, is clad in rich purple garments (1.2) trimmed with golden threads, the fabric flowing lightly in the breeze. A golden belt (0.8) with ornate patterns cinches his waist, the intricate craftsmanship suggesting divine origins. Around his thick, powerful neck hangs a massive steel chain (1.3), its links worn and weathered, each one bearing marks of age and strength. His long, Viking-styled hair (1.2) cascades over his broad shoulders, framing his great beard (1.5), which is intricately braided and glimmers faintly in the light. His piercing eyes (1.5), glowing faintly with a cold, icy intensity, strike fear into all who meet his gaze, as though they peer directly into the soul. The scene is alive with subtle, magical energy. Around the sword’s blade, faint arcs of golden light (1.2) ripple and flicker, forming a delicate aura that crackles like restrained lightning. The air around the guardian is heavy, charged with a divine power that seems to bend the very atmosphere. The ground beneath his feet is cracked and scorched, as if unable to bear the weight of his presence. In the background, the gate looms higher than any mortal construction, its glowing runes and faint whispers of magic emphasizing its connection to realms beyond. The lighting is dramatic and cinematic, with the faint glow of the sword and gate runes casting warm golden highlights across the guardian’s muscular form and purple garments. The shadows that stretch behind him are deep and foreboding, creating a stark contrast that amplifies his commanding presence. The environment is desolate yet sacred—winds howl softly through the barren terrain, carrying faint whispers, and distant storm clouds gather, streaked with flashes of silent lightning, as though the heavens themselves acknowledge his might. The composition centers the guardian and his greatsword, emphasizing his towering size and commanding aura. The viewer’s gaze is drawn from the glowing inscriptions on the blade, up through his massive frame, to his piercing eyes and the ancient gate behind him. The entire scene breathes power, fear, and reverence, encapsulating the might of a being that guards the threshold to another world.

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

29 days ago

A vast, windswept plain stretches endlessly under a storm-darkened sky, the land cracked and scorched from the aftermath of a brutal sorcerer’s duel. Towering, jagged clouds churn violently above, illuminated by streaks of purple lightning that crackle across the heavens, casting ominous flashes of light over the battlefield. At the center of this desolation stands the victorious, malevolent sorcerer—a towering, sinister figure with half of his face shrouded in swirling smoke and glowing, crackling purple energy. His expression is one of cold triumph as his glowing, inhuman eye burns with power. Before him, his defeated foe lies sprawled on the ground, his form crumpled and broken, robes tattered and bloodstained. The fallen sorcerer’s body is limp, his face twisted in despair and pain as the last remnants of his soul are ripped from his chest. Glowing tendrils of ethereal light—streams of ghostly white, blue, and violet energy—pour upward like smoke, writhing and coiling as they are drawn into the victor’s outstretched hand. The defeated sorcerer’s soul flickers and splinters, taking the form of countless ghostly faces screaming silently as they are siphoned into the dark vortex swirling in the sorcerer’s palm. The victorious sorcerer stands tall, his dark, flowing robes billowing violently in the wind as though alive, tattered edges writhing like shadows. His gnarled hands, covered in dark rings and veins glowing faintly with power, radiate with purple energy that pulses like lightning. Trails of smoke and embers rise from his form, blending into the stormy sky as the sorcerer’s aura bends the very air around him. The ground beneath his feet cracks and glows with faint purple fissures, as if the land itself recoils from his presence. The battlefield is littered with charred earth and faint arcs of residual energy, remnants of the ferocity of their duel. In the distance, faint silhouettes of jagged rock formations pierce the horizon, shrouded in drifting mist. A cold wind sweeps through the plain, carrying with it the echoes of screams and the distant rumble of thunder. Above, the clouds twist into a dark vortex, as if nature itself acknowledges the sorcerer’s dominance. The purple lightning dances around him, refracted and amplified by the energy of the soul being consumed. The composition is dynamic and cinematic: the sorcerer, center-frame, looms over his fallen opponent, one hand raised high as the swirling, ghostly soul tendrils spiral into him. His form crackles with immense power, the light of the extracted soul casting a vibrant glow across his sinister face. The defeated sorcerer lies sprawled at his feet, his body limp, with faint residual light seeping from his chest as his soul is pulled free. The dramatic lighting and contrast—deep shadows broken by radiant purples and ghostly whites—create an atmosphere of awe and terror, solidifying the sorcerer’s godlike victory.

3 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.