unnatural reflections FLUX prompts

6 months ago

A woman stands still in the dim light, her head tilted slightly as a small, ornate vial of poison is pressed to her lips (1.5). Her eyes are closed tightly, her expression steeped in sorrow and regret, as though haunted by memories of lost love. A single tear rolls down her cheek, catching the faint green glow of the poison as it trails across her face. Her lips part slightly, trembling as she drinks the bitter, cold liquid, her body tense with the weight of her decision. The vial is delicate, crafted from glass that glows faintly with an ominous greenish light. Its liquid swirls unnaturally, casting faint reflections on her pale skin and trembling fingers. She wears a flowing, sheer white robe (1.4), its translucent fabric clinging softly to her body, revealing faint outlines of her figure beneath. The robe ripples gently around her arms and waist, as though stirred by an invisible breeze, and the poison’s green glow reflects faintly off its delicate folds. Beneath her skin, a smoky, luminous green line is visible, beginning at her throat and trailing downward in a diffused, ethereal path (1.5). The line pulses softly, its edges hazy and shifting like luminous smoke, yet remaining unified as it flows through her body. The glowing trail brightens subtly as it descends, coiling delicately around her heart in a soft, radiant glow. The eerie green light from the poison interacts with the translucent robe, casting faint shadows and glowing highlights across her chest, amplifying the surreal beauty of the scene. Her free hand rests lightly against her chest, as though feeling the poison’s icy presence as it travels through her. The other hand holds the delicate vial, her fingers gripping it tightly, the tension in her body underscoring her resolve and the bitter pain of the moment. She stands upright, her figure illuminated by the glowing green line and the faint light of the vial. The dark, minimal background fades into shadows, ensuring the glowing poison and her tear-streaked face remain the focal points. The atmosphere is suffused with emotional tension, the glowing green line serving as both a visual and symbolic representation of the poison’s cold, invasive power. Her sheer robe, trembling posture, and closed eyes convey a haunting mix of regret, sorrow, and the inevitability of her choice.

6 months ago

A woman stands still in the dim light, her head tilted slightly as a small, ornate vial of poison is pressed to her lips (1.5). Her eyes are closed tightly, her expression steeped in sorrow and regret, as though haunted by memories of lost love. A single tear rolls down her cheek, catching the faint green glow of the poison as it trails across her face. Her lips part slightly, trembling as she drinks the bitter, cold liquid, her body tense with the weight of her decision. The vial is delicate, crafted from glass that glows faintly with an ominous greenish light. Its liquid swirls unnaturally, casting faint reflections on her pale skin and trembling fingers. She wears a flowing, sheer white robe (1.4), its translucent fabric clinging softly to her body, revealing faint outlines of her figure beneath. The robe ripples gently around her arms and waist, as though stirred by an invisible breeze, and the poison’s green glow reflects faintly off its delicate folds. Beneath her skin, a smoky, luminous green line is visible, beginning at her throat and trailing downward in a diffused, ethereal path (1.5). The line pulses softly, its edges hazy and shifting like luminous smoke, yet remaining unified as it flows through her body. The glowing trail brightens subtly as it descends, coiling delicately around her heart in a soft, radiant glow. The eerie green light from the poison interacts with the translucent robe, casting faint shadows and glowing highlights across her chest, amplifying the surreal beauty of the scene. Her free hand rests lightly against her chest, as though feeling the poison’s icy presence as it travels through her. The other hand holds the delicate vial, her fingers gripping it tightly, the tension in her body underscoring her resolve and the bitter pain of the moment. She stands upright, her figure illuminated by the glowing green line and the faint light of the vial. The dark, minimal background fades into shadows, ensuring the glowing poison and her tear-streaked face remain the focal points. The atmosphere is suffused with emotional tension, the glowing green line serving as both a visual and symbolic representation of the poison’s cold, invasive power. Her sheer robe, trembling posture, and closed eyes convey a haunting mix of regret, sorrow, and the inevitability of her choice.

8 months ago

Abstract Full-Body Portrait of a Prostitute – Salvador Dalí (Late-Life Style, Singular Focus & Pure Surrealism) (Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.

7 months ago

A terrified woman stares downward at a swirling black vortex in the center of her stomach, her face frozen in an expression of fear and despair. The vortex distorts the surrounding flesh and fabric, pulling her inward with immense gravitational force. Her torso begins to twist and spiral unnaturally toward the vortex, her arms and head subtly warped as though drawn into an invisible event horizon. Skin and clothing fragment into streaks of light and shadow, trailing around the pull. Her hair is swept into the void, strands unraveling and disintegrating mid-air. Around her body, gravitational ripples warp the air, bending light and forming ghostly echoes of her disintegrating figure. The environment is dark and minimal, as if erased by the void, with surreal, dreamlike lighting—faint, cold illumination highlighting the curvature of her distorted form. Her terrified eyes reflect the infinite abyss within her, a haunting mix of desperation and acceptance. The scene captures a surreal emotional collapse—haunting, dreamlike, and deeply evocative. --v 1.1 --style ultra --quality 2 --ar 3:4

8 months ago

A stunning anime-style portrait of a seductive young female character with long, flowing violet-tinted hair and deep mesmerizing purple eyes with intricate reflections. One side of her face and body is that of a gorgeous, alluring woman, with soft anime shading, flawless skin, and a revealing futuristic outfit with glowing neon violet accents. The other half is overtaken by the symbiote, forming the monstrous, inky black texture of Venom, with sharp white veins pulsating across her body. Her left eye glows ominously as the symbiote side features a wide, menacing grin with razor-sharp teeth, and a long, slick, snake-like tongue emerges from the darkness. The fusion of beauty and terror is striking—her human side looks seductive, while the Venom side exudes raw power and danger. The background is a dark cyberpunk-inspired cityscape with neon purple and blue lights reflecting off the rain-soaked streets, adding a moody, cinematic feel. Ultra HD, hyper-detailed, 8K resolution, perfect face symmetry, cinematic lighting, photorealistic textures, anime aesthetic meets Marvel's dark symbiote horror." Negative Prompt: "blurry, pixelated, low resolution, distorted face, extra limbs, extra fingers, deformed hands, unnatural anatomy, asymmetrical features, unrealistic eyes, poor lighting, overexposed, underexposed, grainy texture, plastic skin, unrealistic shading, exaggerated proportions, low detail, cartoonish, bad anatomy, missing details, artifacts, jagged edges, oversaturated colors, unnatural colors, unnatural reflections.

8 months ago

(Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.

9 months ago

A cinematic scene of Alina Dreymore, a noblewoman in her early thirties, positioned gracefully on her hands down and knees in a reflective and composed pose, viewed in front, breast 150. She is dressed in a violet, fitted shirt with refined lace details, elegantly accentuating her silhouette. Her raven-black hair flows down her back in soft waves, with subtle blue highlights catching the ambient light from above. The scene is set in a grand gothic hall, with towering stone pillars and diffused lighting creating a dramatic contrast of light and shadow. The soft illumination emphasizes the texture of the stone floor and the intricate details of her attire, while casting delicate shadows that enhance the depth and realism of the composition. Her pose conveys quiet confidence and calm reflection, capturing a cinematic moment of timeless gothic elegance." --- Prompt Negativo: extra fingers, extra arms, extra legs, distorted hands, bad anatomy, missing body parts, malformed limbs, bad proportions, unnatural poses, extra eyes, deformed face, unrealistic clothing textures --- Dettagli Tecnici: --ar 9:16 --v 5 --q 2 --stylize 750 --s 1000 --textured skin --dynamic shadows --high contrast --soft lighting --dark fantasy --gothic elegance --fix anatomy --no extra limbs --realistic proportions --natural fabric movement :

8 months ago

(Spaghetti Western meets Hindu Mythology, Cinematic, Gritty, Mythic Americana, Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven-style storytelling, Hyperreal, Dust and Gunpowder, Sunset Over the Frontier) (Gritty Cinematic Western:1.8, Hindu Mythology Meets Old West:2.0, Dust & Heat Haze:1.6, Sunburnt Leather & Weathered Cloth:1.5, Volumetric Light Through Dust:1.4, Classic Spaghetti Western Composition:1.8) The frontier is vast, endless. The sun hangs low and swollen, a burning red eye sinking behind the jagged silhouette of the mountains, bleeding golden light across the dust-choked sky. A lone rider moves through the haze, his dark stallion kicking up a slow trail of dust, the sound of hooves muffled by the dry, cracked earth. Vishnu, the Divine Gunslinger, moves like a ghost through this godforsaken land, his presence a whisper on the wind, a warning before the storm. He is adorned in a weathered duster, its deep blue fabric threadbare yet regal, embroidered in golden Sanskrit that shifts and shimmers under the dying light. Beneath it, his celestial skin glows faintly, a blue so deep it seems carved from the twilight sky itself. His golden eyes burn like twin desert suns, reflecting the fire of the West, the violence of the frontier, the weight of justice balanced on the edge of a blade. From beneath his coat, his four arms rest with an unnatural stillness, each poised for retribution. One hand grips the Sudarshana Revolver, an ancient pistol forged from the molten core of a dying star, its barrel etched with the shifting symbols of the cosmos. Another holds a coiled lasso woven from the threads of fate, glowing with the light of constellations long dead. The third hand remains open, palm outward—a warning, or perhaps a blessing. The fourth clutches the eternal lotus, a reminder that even in this land of dust and death, something divine lingers. Behind him, the town of Black Hollow waits, a rotting wooden carcass of a town, its saloon doors swaying in the wind, the church bell rusted and long silent. Shadows move behind glassless windows, fear tightening in the chests of men who know their reckoning has come. The outlaws of this place have no gods, no law but steel and blood, and yet even they whisper his name. The wind shifts, carrying the scent of gunpowder and sagebrush, and in the distance, a gang of riders appear on the ridge, silhouetted against the sun. Their leader spits, grips his rifle, and laughs. "Ain't no man gets to play god out here," he sneers. The six-shooter spins once, slow, deliberate. A single breath. A moment stretched between eternity and the dust. Vishnu narrows his golden gaze beneath the wide brim of his hat. He speaks only once. "God don’t play, friend." Then the world moves like lightning, like judgment, like fate itself unfurling.

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.

6 months ago

A faceless, translucent figure glides silently across a crumbling obsidian floor veined with fractured crystal growth. The Nullkin has no features, only the faint shimmer of heatless distortion — like memory caught in a lie. Its form absorbs all nearby light, bending shadows away from it. Sound dies in its presence; even thoughts feel muffled. All around, jagged obsidian spires protrude from the walls like frozen screams, some glistening with crystallized memorylight. Mirrors embedded in these shards do not show the Nullkin — they reflect blurred, shifting figures from the viewer’s past, flickering and wrong. The Nullkin pauses at the edge of a blackwater pool ringed with memorystone, its reflection shifting into the person you swore you’d never become. Key Visuals: Obsidian walls and floor cracked with crystal memory veins Nullkin silhouette of shimmering erasure, faceless and flickering Light shattering on sharp crystal décor Echoes silenced, shadows bent unnaturally Reflections in crystal mirrors showing incorrect versions of the self Lighting & Palette: desaturated grayscale • obsidian-black with silver fractures • cold glinting memorylight Style Tags: obsidian cathedral • memory erasure horror • crystallized denial • echo-chamber surrealism

9 months ago

"A cinematic scene of Alina Dreymore, a fair-skinned noblewoman in her early thirties, positioned gracefully on her hands and knees in a thoughtful and composed pose, viewed from the front. Her complexion is pale and smooth, with a soft, natural glow. Her raven-black hair flows down her back in silky waves, with subtle orabge highlights catching the soft light from above. She wears a fitted deep dark green lingerie set with refined lace details, elegantly accentuating her silhouette, breast 150. The scene is set in a grand gothic hall with towering stone pillars and ambient lighting that creates a dramatic contrast of light and shadow. The soft illumination highlights the textures of the stone floor, the intricate embroidery of her attire, and her graceful posture. Her pose conveys quiet confidence and calm reflection, capturing a cinematic moment of timeless gothic elegance, with natural fabric movement and realistic proportions."8k 🛠️ Prompt Negativo: extra fingers, extra arms, extra legs, distorted hands, bad anatomy, missing body parts, malformed limbs, bad proportions, unnatural poses, extra eyes, deformed face, unrealistic clothing textures ⚙️ Dettagli Tecnici: --ar 9:16 --v 5 --q 2 --stylize 750 --s 1000 --textured skin --dynamic shadows --high contrast --soft lighting --dark fantasy --gothic elegance --fix anatomy --no extra limbs --realistic proportions --natural fabric movement

9 months ago

"A cinematic scene of Alina Dreymore, a fair-skinned noblewoman in her early thirties, positioned gracefully on her hands and knees in a thoughtful and composed pose, viewed from the back. Her complexion is pale and smooth, with a soft, natural glow. Her raven-black hair flows down her back in silky waves, with subtle orange highlights catching the soft light from above. She wears a fitted deep dark orange lingerie set with refined lace details, elegantly accentuating her silhouette, breast 300. The scene is set in a grand gothic hall with towering stone pillars and ambient lighting that creates a dramatic contrast of light and shadow. The soft illumination highlights the textures of the stone floor, the intricate embroidery of her attire, and her graceful posture. Her pose conveys quiet confidence and calm reflection, capturing a cinematic moment of timeless gothic elegance, with natural fabric movement and realistic proportions."8k 🛠️ Prompt Negativo: extra fingers, extra arms, extra legs, distorted hands, bad anatomy, missing body parts, malformed limbs, bad proportions, unnatural poses, extra eyes, deformed face, unrealistic clothing textures ⚙️ Dettagli Tecnici: --ar 21:9 --v 5 --q 2 --stylize 750 --s 1000 --textured skin --dynamic shadows --high contrast --soft lighting --dark fantasy --gothic elegance --fix anatomy --no extra limbs --realistic proportions --natural fabric movement

3 months ago

"A group of elegant princesses inspired by classic fairy tales, standing together in a vibrant, enchanted royal garden. Each princess has a unique appearance, reflecting different cultures and fantasy worlds. They wear beautifully detailed gowns with intricate embroidery and accessories, featuring sparkling jewels, flowing capes, and floral patterns. Their hairstyles are diverse, from long, flowing curls to elaborate updos adorned with tiaras. The lighting is soft and magical, with a warm, golden sunset casting gentle rays over the scene. The background includes a fairytale castle, blooming flowers, and fluttering birds. Each princess has a graceful pose and a kind, confident expression, embodying charm, elegance, and strength. Cartoon style with bold outlines, vivid colors, and a polished finish." Prompt negativo: extra fingers, distorted faces, bad anatomy, overly exaggerated features, inappropriate expressions, unnatural poses.

9 months ago

A terrified, slim-faced young man stares downward at a void in the center of her stomach (1.4), his face frozen in an expression of fear and despair (1.2). The void is a swirling black vortex (1.5), its edges distorting the surrounding flesh and fabric of his body, pulling him inward with immense force. His form begins to twist and spiral, his torso stretching unnaturally toward the vortex, his arms, and head subtly warping as though being drawn into an invisible event horizon. His skin and clothes fragment and streak like thin trails of light and shadow, curving around the gravitational pull of the void. The man’s long black hair is swept toward the vortex, strands unraveling and disintegrating as they spiral inward. Around the edges of her body, faint ripples of gravitational distortion warp the air, bending the light and creating ghostly echoes of her disintegrating form. The scene is suffused with a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere—his figure suspended in darkness, illuminated by faint, cold light that accentuates the curvature of his distorted body. His terrified eyes reflect the infinite darkness of the void, his expression both a plea for escape and the inevitability of collapse. The background is abstract and minimal, as though the void has erased all sense of space and time around him. The only remaining focus is the man, his twisting, spiraling body and the endless pull of the vortex consuming his form. The image is haunting, surreal, and emotional, capturing the slow, inevitable collapse of self into nothingness.

9 months ago

A terrified, slim-faced young man stares downward at a void in the center of her stomach (1.4), his face frozen in an expression of fear and despair (1.2). The void is a swirling black vortex (1.5), its edges distorting the surrounding flesh and fabric of his body, pulling him inward with immense force. His form begins to twist and spiral, his torso stretching unnaturally toward the vortex, his arms, and head subtly warping as though being drawn into an invisible event horizon. His skin and clothes fragment and streak like thin trails of light and shadow, curving around the gravitational pull of the void. The man’s long black hair is swept toward the vortex, strands unraveling and disintegrating as they spiral inward. Around the edges of her body, faint ripples of gravitational distortion warp the air, bending the light and creating ghostly echoes of her disintegrating form. The scene is suffused with a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere—his figure suspended in darkness, illuminated by faint, cold light that accentuates the curvature of his distorted body. His terrified eyes reflect the infinite darkness of the void, his expression both a plea for escape and the inevitability of collapse. The background is abstract and minimal, as though the void has erased all sense of space and time around him. The only remaining focus is the man, his twisting, spiraling body and the endless pull of the vortex consuming his form. The image is haunting, surreal, and emotional, capturing the slow, inevitable collapse of self into nothingness.

8 months ago

(Surrealism:1.7, Salvador Dalí late-life style:2.0, Dreamlike distortion:1.6, Hyperreal textures:1.5, Chiaroscuro contrast:1.4, Oil-painting brushstrokes:1.5, Organic fluidity:1.6, Metaphysical realism:1.4) A full-body surrealist portrait of a prostitute, painted in the unmistakable late-life style of Salvador Dalí, where dream logic dictates form and reality bends into its own subconscious reflection. She stands alone in the void, a lone figure frozen in motion yet melting into time itself. Her body is elongated but coherent, her limbs refined into one singular, fluid, organic motion, as if she is a sculpture made of half-formed candle wax, melting at the edges but never fully dissolving. Her face remains untouched by distortion, hyperreal and melancholic, eyes darkened with kohl, staring directly outward, unblinking, as if confronting time, fate, and the fabric of reality itself. A single strand of jet-black hair escapes from her carefully pinned curls, swaying in an invisible breeze. Her lips—painted a deep, blood-red—drip slightly at the edges, as if smeared by unseen hands, caught between seduction and sorrow. Her dress, a relic of the past, is a contradiction of luxury and decay, the hem transforming into thin wisps of smoke, curling and dispersing into the canvas. The fabric is stretched unnaturally, its folds elongating like the melted forms of Dalí’s classic clocks, one shoulder slipping in an eternal descent, never quite falling. The setting is an infinite, surreal landscape—a lonely street with no visible end, where shadows stretch longer than their owners, and the cobblestones appear to melt into liquid mercury. In the background, a large, antique pocket watch, twisted and partially submerged in the air, hangs frozen at an uncertain hour, its hands warped into elongated spirals. A single red rose, impossibly large and impossibly alive, hovers just behind her, its petals peeling away like fragments of forgotten love letters. The air feels thick, painted with visible brushstrokes, where light and shadow do not obey the laws of physics—instead, they bleed into one another, wrapping around her body in soft, liquid chiaroscuro, mimicking the curvature of a dream. She is not merely a woman but a symbol—of desire, of loss, of something slipping through time like sand through Dalí’s own fingers.

8 months ago

A stunning anime-style portrait of a seductive young female character with long, flowing violet-tinted hair and deep mesmerizing purple eyes with intricate reflections. One side of her face and body is that of a gorgeous, alluring woman, with soft anime shading, flawless skin, and a revealing futuristic outfit with glowing neon violet accents. The other half is overtaken by the symbiote, forming the monstrous, inky black texture of Venom, with sharp white veins pulsating across her body. Her left eye glows ominously as the symbiote side features a wide, menacing grin with razor-sharp teeth, and a long, slick, snake-like tongue emerges from the darkness. The fusion of beauty and terror is striking—her human side looks seductive, while the Venom side exudes raw power and danger. The background is a dark cyberpunk-inspired cityscape with neon purple and blue lights reflecting off the rain-soaked streets, adding a moody, cinematic feel. Ultra HD, hyper-detailed, 8K resolution, perfect face symmetry, cinematic lighting, photorealistic textures, anime aesthetic meets Marvel's dark symbiote horror." Negative Prompt: "blurry, pixelated, low resolution, distorted face, extra limbs, extra fingers, deformed hands, unnatural anatomy, asymmetrical features, unrealistic eyes, poor lighting, overexposed, underexposed, grainy texture, plastic skin, unrealistic shading, exaggerated proportions, low detail, cartoonish, bad anatomy, missing details, artifacts, jagged edges, oversaturated colors, unnatural colors, unnatural reflections."

8 months ago

Seductive anime-style female with long violet-tinted hair and deep purple eyes. One side is a stunning, voluptuous woman with ultra-realistic skin, high-detail pores, subtle imperfections, and soft cinematic lighting. She wears a revealing, neon-accented outfit. The other half of her face and body is overtaken by Venom’s symbiote, forming an inky black, organic texture with sharp white veins, monstrous fanged grin, and a long, slick tongue. The fusion of beauty and terror is striking, with the symbiote creeping across her skin in a realistic, textured manner. The background is a dark cyberpunk cityscape, neon purple and blue lights reflecting off rain-soaked streets. Ultra HD, hyper-detailed, 8K resolution, cinematic lighting, photorealistic textures, anime meets Marvel’s dark symbiote horror." Negative Prompt: "blurry, pixelated, low resolution, distorted face, extra limbs, extra fingers, deformed hands, unnatural anatomy, asymmetry, unrealistic eyes, poor lighting, overexposed, underexposed, grainy, plastic skin, bad shading, exaggerated proportions (except curves), cartoonish, artifacts, jagged edges, oversaturated, unnatural reflections.

8 months ago

Seductive anime-style female with long violet-tinted hair and deep purple eyes. One side is a stunning, voluptuous woman with ultra-realistic skin, high-detail pores, subtle imperfections, and soft cinematic lighting. She wears a revealing, neon-accented outfit. The other half of her face and body is overtaken by Venom’s symbiote, forming an inky black, organic texture with sharp white veins, monstrous fanged grin, and a long, slick tongue. The fusion of beauty and terror is striking, with the symbiote creeping across her skin in a realistic, textured manner. The background is a dark cyberpunk cityscape, neon purple and blue lights reflecting off rain-soaked streets. Ultra HD, hyper-detailed, 8K resolution, cinematic lighting, photorealistic textures, anime meets Marvel’s dark symbiote horror." Negative Prompt: "blurry, pixelated, low resolution, distorted face, extra limbs, extra fingers, deformed hands, unnatural anatomy, asymmetry, unrealistic eyes, poor lighting, overexposed, underexposed, grainy, plastic skin, bad shading, exaggerated proportions (except curves), cartoonish, artifacts, jagged edges, oversaturated, unnatural reflections.

8 months ago

Seductive anime-style female with long violet-tinted hair and deep purple eyes. One side is a stunning, voluptuous woman with ultra-realistic skin, high-detail pores, subtle imperfections, and soft cinematic lighting. She wears a revealing, neon-accented outfit. The other half of her face and body is overtaken by Venom’s symbiote, forming an inky black, organic texture with sharp white veins, monstrous fanged grin, and a long, slick tongue. The fusion of beauty and terror is striking, with the symbiote creeping across her skin in a realistic, textured manner. The background is a dark cyberpunk cityscape, neon purple and blue lights reflecting off rain-soaked streets. Ultra HD, hyper-detailed, 8K resolution, cinematic lighting, photorealistic textures, anime meets Marvel’s dark symbiote horror." Negative Prompt: "blurry, pixelated, low resolution, distorted face, extra limbs, extra fingers, deformed hands, unnatural anatomy, asymmetry, unrealistic eyes, poor lighting, overexposed, underexposed, grainy, plastic skin, bad shading, exaggerated proportions (except curves), cartoonish, artifacts, jagged edges, oversaturated, unnatural reflections.

6 months ago

A faceless, translucent figure glides silently across a crumbling obsidian floor veined with fractured crystal growth. The Nullkin has no features, only the faint shimmer of heatless distortion — like memory caught in a lie. Its form absorbs all nearby light, bending shadows away from it. Sound dies in its presence; even thoughts feel muffled. All around, jagged obsidian spires protrude from the walls like frozen screams, some glistening with crystallized memorylight. Mirrors embedded in these shards do not show the Nullkin — they reflect blurred, shifting figures from the viewer’s past, flickering and wrong. The Nullkin pauses at the edge of a blackwater pool ringed with memorystone, its reflection shifting into the person you swore you’d never become. Key Visuals: Obsidian walls and floor cracked with crystal memory veins Nullkin silhouette of shimmering erasure, faceless and flickering Light shattering on sharp crystal décor Echoes silenced, shadows bent unnaturally Reflections in crystal mirrors showing incorrect versions of the self Lighting & Palette: desaturated grayscale • obsidian-black with silver fractures • cold glinting memorylight Style Tags: obsidian cathedral • memory erasure horror • crystallized denial • echo-chamber surrealism

2 months ago

Full body view: A luminous golden female guardian, her form woven from celestial silk and cosmic energy, stands barefoot, perfect feet, atop a levitating ladder made of liquid gold. In one hand, they offer six radiant pentacles, which coalesce into streams of luminous energy that flow into the hands of dark seekers below. The balance between giving and receiving shifts like a cosmic scale, dictated by the divine flow. Contrite gems orbit them, stabilizing the scene with grounding energy. Ethereal surrealism inspired by Salvador Dalí, hyper-detailed, radiant neon highlights, cosmic energy exchange, dreamlike floating ladder, cinematic 4K. Avoid: misshapen anatomy, extra limbs, distorted proportions, blurry, low-resolution, pixelated images, unnatural reflections, stretched lines, floating artifacts, oversaturated hues, cartoonish, low-poly images, watermarks, text artifacts.

7 months ago

A photo-realistic cinematic shot of a young Korean man inspired from Sung Jin-Woo from Solo Leveling walking confidently down a neon-lit nighttime street in Seoul, Korea. His sharp, cold eyes glow faintly with an eerie blue light, and his long navy blue hoodie billows slightly as he moves. The wet pavement reflects neon signs (red, blue, and purple), creating a cyberpunk-noir atmosphere. But the true horror lies beneath—his shadow stretches unnaturally long, and within its inky darkness, the glowing eyes and silhouettes of his Shadow Army can be seen, barely concealed, as if they’re moments away from emerging. Ultra-detailed 8K resolution, photorealistic textures, dramatic chiaroscuro lighting with neon highlights. The composition emphasizes Jin-Woo’s dominance—his expression is calm but deadly, while the hidden shadows suggest impending chaos. Depth of field blurs the bustling city slightly, keeping focus on him and his monstrous followers. Trending on ArtStation, cinematic masterpiece.

7 months ago

A photo-realistic cinematic shot of Sung Jin-Woo from Solo Leveling walking confidently down a neon-lit nighttime street in Seoul, Korea. His sharp, cold eyes glow faintly with an eerie blue light, and his long navy blue hoodie billows slightly as he moves. The wet pavement reflects neon signs (red, blue, and purple), creating a cyberpunk-noir atmosphere. But the true horror lies beneath—his shadow stretches unnaturally long, and within its inky darkness, the glowing eyes and silhouettes of his Shadow Army can be seen, barely concealed, as if they’re moments away from emerging. Ultra-detailed 8K resolution, photorealistic textures, dramatic chiaroscuro lighting with neon highlights. The composition emphasizes Jin-Woo’s dominance—his expression is calm but deadly, while the hidden shadows suggest impending chaos. Depth of field blurs the bustling city slightly, keeping focus on him and his monstrous followers. Trending on ArtStation, cinematic masterpiece.