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Prompt by Kodaglow

blue and purple FLUX prompts

about 3k results

9 months ago

A colossal, ancient tower rises endlessly into the storm-wracked sky, its blackened stone walls jagged and monolithic, as if carved by forgotten gods. The tower stretches upward with impossible scale, piercing through the heavens themselves, its summit vanishing into churning, thunderous clouds. Around the tower’s foundation, the earth trembles and fractures—fiery veins of molten orange light seep through the cracks like wounds in the very fabric of the world, casting a sinister, flickering glow against the weathered stone. At the base of the tower lies the remnants of a once-mighty wall, a colossal gate now reduced to crumbling ruin. Though shattered and decayed, the gate still exudes power, its shattered arches adorned with intricate carvings of twisted demons and forgotten gods, their faces frozen in expressions of torment and rage. Jagged, black iron spikes jut from the stone, some broken, others slick with the glow of embers drifting through the thick, sulfurous air. The gate yawns open like a maw, and the darkness beyond seems to pulse and breathe—an ominous passage leading into the depths of hell itself. The landscape surrounding the tower is a barren, scorched wasteland. Twisted rock formations claw upward like skeletal fingers, shrouded in drifting mists that glow faintly with the light of unseen fires. Patches of smoke rise lazily from fissures in the earth, and small, flickering flames dance atop scattered braziers—unearthly fires that refuse to die. The wind howls through the desolation, carrying with it whispers and distant screams, as though the very land resents the presence of intruders. Above, the sky churns violently. Dark clouds swirl in a massive vortex centered around the tower, lit from within by bursts of electric blue and crimson lightning that tear through the heavens, illuminating the tower’s grotesque carvings and dark reliefs. Shadows dance and warp across its surface, giving the impression that the stone itself is alive, writhing with an ancient, malevolent energy. The atmosphere crackles with power, as if the boundary between worlds grows thin in this accursed place. In the distance, at the edge of the ruined path leading to the gate, a lone figure stands, cloaked in black and dwarfed by the tower’s immeasurable size. The figure’s silhouette is sharp against the fiery glow emanating from the cracked earth, their head tilted upward as they stare at the monstrous tower with a mixture of awe and dread. A faint wind pulls at their cloak, adding a sense of motion to the scene, as though the very world pushes them toward their inevitable fate. The color palette is dramatic and vivid: deep, shadowy blacks and cold grays dominate the stone, contrasted by fiery oranges and molten reds that pulse like a heartbeat through the earth. The sky above glows with dark blues and sickly purples, pierced by streaks of violent, crackling lightning. Reflective pools of molten light shimmer against the tower’s base, while faint embers drift through the air like dying stars, caught in the gravity of this immense, profane structure. Every detail—every crack, carving, and glowing fissure—breathes with life and dread, as though the tower itself is aware of those who dare gaze upon it.

9 months ago

A close-up, bust-framed portrait of a powerful, malevolent sorcerer. Half of his face is human—sharp, angular, and etched with deep lines of age and dark knowledge, his piercing eyes glowing faintly with a malevolent light. The other half of his face is unnatural: a swirling mass of dark smoke and searing, glowing purple energy that crackles and flickers like an unstable flame. The energy pulses through the smoke, faint streaks of violet light cutting across his shadowy form like veins of raw power. His expression is one of cold, focused determination, with a hint of cruel satisfaction, as though he’s reveling in his sinister dominance. In his gnarled hands, twisted with dark veins and adorned with intricate rings of blackened metal, he holds a swirling, seething mass of glowing souls. The souls appear as countless ghostly faces—translucent and writhing, their expressions frozen in anguish and despair. They swirl chaotically in his grasp, glowing with spectral purples, blues, and faint streaks of white light. The souls drift outward in thin wisps, curling and dissipating like smoke, as though barely contained by his immense power. Subtle tendrils of the energy connect the souls to his smoke-covered half, as if he is drawing strength from them. The sorcerer’s appearance is dark and regal, clad in ornate, shadowy robes adorned with arcane symbols and glowing runes that pulse faintly in rhythm with the energy in his face. His shoulders are draped in tattered black fabric that flows like liquid shadow, blending seamlessly into the surrounding darkness. The background is ominous and blurred, a void of shadows and faint, drifting smoke illuminated only by the violent purple light emanating from his form and the souls he controls. The lighting is dramatic and cinematic—sharp contrast between deep shadows and the searing violet glow. The light spills across his human half, casting sharp lines across his features, while the glowing energy and souls illuminate the smoke on his other side, creating a chaotic dance of light and shadow. Small embers and particles of energy drift around him, hinting at the immense power radiating from his being.