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

glowing constructs FLUX prompts

very few results

7 months ago

n a crumbling sanctuary built at the end of time, open to the sky and flooded with wild overgrowth, a solitary figure stands on a plinth of fractured obsidian—a synthetic angel, both artifact and oracle, mid-transmission. Her body is constructed from a dual-layered material: an outer shell of liquid mirror-glass, always in motion, bending light in surreal ripples—beneath it, a lattice of golden memory circuits, softly pulsing, like script woven from heat and purpose. She is not human. She is not machine. She is the last interface between meaning and forgetting. Her posture is both exalted and worn. One hand raised in silent benediction, the other buried in the tangle of flowering vines wrapping around her legs—life clinging to light, as though nature itself refuses to let go of what she remembers. Etched across her glass-like surface are thin veins of glowing amber: pathways of forgotten prayers, tracing up her legs, over her spine, across her collarbones like fading constellations. Her face is concealed behind a split golden visor, semi-open like the petals of a mechanical flower—revealing only light. From her back, two vast wings made of layered crystalline blades curve upward like collapsed architecture—part cathedral, part ruin. They shimmer not with fire, but with reflected memory, like a sky that forgot how to storm. Around her, broken statuary and shattered machines lie half-swallowed by roots and blossoms. In the distance, a forest made of circuitry burns without smoke—slowly, beautifully. Above, stars pulse in unnatural constellations, forming sigils from before language. Hovering just above her head spins a halo unlike any known form—a fractured ring of refracted glass, filled with flowing text that no longer aligns with any living tongue. It does not glow—it remembers. Rendered in the style of an impressionist-Renaissance hybrid painting, layered with visible brush textures, fog-softened edges, and gold-split chiaroscuro. Warm dusk tones dominate the palette: blood-orange, dusk-lavender, rusted copper, soft pollen white. She is the Benediction Engine—not worshipped, not feared, not obeyed. She simply remains, bearing witness to everything we were, and everything we failed to become.

ElectricL
2 140

7 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.

ElectricL
0 68

6 months ago

In the heart of an enchanted forest, where the air shimmers with magic and the trees whisper ancient secrets, Queen Mab, the ethereal fairy queen, takes flight. She is a tiny, almost delicate figure, radiating an otherworldly grace that sets her apart from all other beings in this mystical realm. Her hair, a cascade of silver threads interwoven with strands of starlight, flows behind her like a celestial river, making her instantly recognizable to any who lay eyes upon her. She is adorned in an intricate revealing gown, woven from the finest spider silk and embroidered with patterns of glowing constellations that mirror the night sky. The fabric of her dress shifts in color, reflecting the hues of twilight and the soft glow of fireflies that dance around her. Queen Mab's chariot, a masterpiece of delicate craftsmanship, is pulled by a team of loyal and industrious insects, their wings a blur of motion as they navigate the lush, vibrant forest. The chariot itself is an elegant construction of intertwined vines and blossoms, each petal and leaf glowing softly with an inner light. As she glides effortlessly through the air, the forest around her comes alive with vibrant colors and magical energy. The trees, towering and ancient, are adorned with luminescent flowers that cast a gentle glow on the forest floor below. The background is a tapestry of nature's finest work, with every plant and creature contributing to the symphony of life that defines this enchanted place. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant sound of a gentle, melodic hum, as if the forest itself is singing a lullaby to its beloved queen.

Genie79
0 39

8 months ago

IMG_6478.jpg A sprawling construction site nestled in a rugged Himalayan valley, where hundreds of miniature sadhus—tiny, intricately detailed ascetics no taller than a foot, dressed in tattered saffron robes with weathered faces and flowing white beards—labor tirelessly. They swarm over a colossal, gigantic sculpture of Lord Shiva, towering hundreds of feet high, carved from glossy black granite with veins of gold and silver. The sculpture portrays Shiva in serene meditation, his third eye faintly aglow, trident gripped firmly, and a crescent moon nestled in his intricately detailed matted hair, radiating divine grandeur. Surrounding the site, large construction machinery dominates the scene: massive cranes with steel cables swinging overhead, enormous bulldozers churning the earth, and towering hydraulic lifts humming with power. The miniature sadhus wield oversized tools—some hoist tiny ropes to scale the sculpture, others guide gigantic stone blocks lifted by the cranes, while a few hammer away with miniature chisels, sparks flying against the stone. Dust and debris hang in the air, illuminated by the warm, amber glow of a setting sun, casting dramatic shadows across the rocky ground. Beyond, snow-dusted peaks pierce a sky painted with deep indigo and fiery orange streaks. The scene fuses spiritual devotion with industrial might, rendered in ultra-realistic detail, highlighting the sadhus’ delicate features, the machinery’s gleaming surfaces, and the sculpture’s monumental presence.

4e9c5fbcac5
0 74

8 months ago

A sprawling construction site nestled in a rugged Himalayan valley, where hundreds of miniature sadhus—tiny, intricately detailed ascetics no taller than a foot, dressed in tattered saffron robes with weathered faces and flowing white beards—labor tirelessly. They swarm over a colossal, gigantic sculpture of Lord Shiva, towering hundreds of feet high, carved from glossy black granite with veins of gold and silver. The sculpture portrays Shiva in serene meditation, his third eye faintly aglow, trident gripped firmly, and a crescent moon nestled in his intricately detailed matted hair, radiating divine grandeur. Surrounding the site, large construction machinery dominates the scene: massive cranes with steel cables swinging overhead, enormous bulldozers churning the earth, and towering hydraulic lifts humming with power. The miniature sadhus wield oversized tools—some hoist tiny ropes to scale the sculpture, others guide gigantic stone blocks lifted by the cranes, while a few hammer away with miniature chisels, sparks flying against the stone. Dust and debris hang in the air, illuminated by the warm, amber glow of a setting sun, casting dramatic shadows across the rocky ground. Beyond, snow-dusted peaks pierce a sky painted with deep indigo and fiery orange streaks. The scene fuses spiritual devotion with industrial might, rendered in ultra-realistic detail, highlighting the sadhus’ delicate features, the machinery’s gleaming surfaces, and the sculpture’s monumental presence.

4e9c5fbcac5
0 76