A sample prompt of what you can find in this page
Prompt by 1160943d356

blue fire prompts

hundreds of results

8 months ago

close-up portrait of a female red demon, bathed in a warm, golden glow reminiscent of a sunset over a mystical realm. Her physique, honed from the fires of the underworld, is clad in a sleek, high-cut latex swimsuit with a snakeskin pattern that shimmers like polished obsidian, accentuating her athletic curves. Black latex boots rise up her legs like dark, glossy spires, while her raven tresses cascade down her back like a waterfall of night, styled with sharp, choppy bangs that frame her heart-shaped face like a dark, gothic halo. Large, curved horns protrude from her forehead, casting a faint, otherworldly glow. she smiles seductively to thew camera, and with Beckoning gesture to come to her with passion and desire smile on lips. Ambient blue and red lighting effects dance across the metal accents, casting a mesmerizing glow that evokes the fusion of ancient mythology and modern technology. The air is charged with an aura of anticipation, as if the very fabric of reality is about to be torn asunder by the demon's haunting melody. Melting lava flows across the floor like a river of liquid fire, casting flickering shadows on the walls as the demon's song builds to a crescendo. Inspired by the dark mysticism of Zdzisław Beksiński, the biomechanical nightmares of H.R. Giger, and the stark, gothic elegance of Ashley Wood, with a dash of Syd Mead's 8K hyper-realistic 3D rendering, Roger Dean's atmospheric lighting, and Ash Thorp's cinematic composition, all distilled through the warm, golden tones of a Kodak Ektar lens, complete with subtle lens flare and a hint of film grain.

Lastdance PRO
11 460

3 months ago

close-up portrait of a female red demon, bathed in a warm, golden glow reminiscent of a sunset over a mystical realm. Her physique, honed from the fires of the underworld, is clad in a sleek, high-cut latex swimsuit with a snakeskin pattern that shimmers like polished obsidian, accentuating her athletic curves. Black latex boots rise up her legs like dark, glossy spires, while her raven tresses cascade down her back like a waterfall of night, styled with sharp, choppy bangs that frame her heart-shaped face like a dark, gothic halo. Large, curved horns protrude from her forehead, casting a faint, otherworldly glow. she smiles seductively to thew camera, and with Beckoning gesture to come to her with passion and desire smile on lips. Ambient blue and red lighting effects dance across the metal accents, casting a mesmerizing glow that evokes the fusion of ancient mythology and modern technology. The air is charged with an aura of anticipation, as if the very fabric of reality is about to be torn asunder by the demon's haunting melody. Melting lava flows across the floor like a river of liquid fire, casting flickering shadows on the walls as the demon's song builds to a crescendo. Inspired by the dark mysticism of Zdzisław Beksiński, the biomechanical nightmares of H.R. Giger, and the stark, gothic elegance of Ashley Wood, with a dash of Syd Mead's 8K hyper-realistic 3D rendering, Roger Dean's atmospheric lighting, and Ash Thorp's cinematic composition, all distilled through the warm, golden tones of a Kodak Ektar lens, complete with subtle lens flare and a hint of film grain.

1160943d356 PRO
9 350

6 months ago

((gritty, hyperrealistic painting:1.5)), ((Hulk and Superman locked in a brutal power struggle:1.5)), both hands clasped, fingers interlocked in a violent test of strength, muscles straining, tendons stretched to the limit. Superman, bruised, grounded, is down on one knee, his body twisting with resistance, arms trembling as he holds back the massive force bearing down on him. His blue suit is torn, his face bloodied, hair matted with sweat and soot, but his gaze is clear and defiant—no glowing eyes, only human resolve. The Hulk towers over him, full height—3 meters tall, 500 kilograms of brute muscle, drenched in sweat, skin streaked with grime and ash. His monstrous body looms with dominance, feet planted wide, both arms pressing down, veins bulging, face twisted in a roar of exertion. His skin cracks around his fists from the sheer pressure, saliva flying from his mouth as he snarls through clenched teeth. The ground beneath Superman’s knee is shattered, pressed inward by the weight. Shockwaves ripple through the dust, small stones hover in midair. The scene is dense with smoke, ash, and heat distortion, the ambient firelight casting flickering shadows over their bodies. Style: painted like an epic oil tableau—Caravaggio-like lighting, Repin’s anatomical drama, Beksiński’s apocalyptic ambiance. Every detail captured: grit on skin, blood at the lip, wrinkles in fabric, cracked stone, drifting embers, clenched fingers locked in struggle. Lighting: heavy chiaroscuro—low directional light from fires around them, long shadows falling across Superman’s face, rim lighting highlighting Hulk’s upper body, emphasizing the scale difference without diminishing the tension. Camera angle: low and close, from Superman’s left side, showing his knee pressed into shattered ground, arms lifted to hold off Hulk’s crushing weight. Hulk fills the vertical space, Superman dominates the emotional weight—a visual of pressure and refusal to yield. Art direction for Flux: – Hulk is 3m tall, 500kg, physically overwhelming, rendered with full weight and scale – Superman is human-scale, on one knee, but braced and locked in—the underdog with unbreakable resolve – Style: dark painterly realism, anatomical accuracy, no stylization, no superpowers shown – Textures: bruised flesh, torn cloth, cracked stone, sweat, grit, tension in the hands and faces – Environment: scorched battlefield, ambient smoke, sparks, fractured terrain, faint firelight – Theme: mythic struggle, physical scale vs inner will—no victor yet, only raw contest

ElectricL
5 160

6 months ago

A highly detailed, photorealistic image featuring three spray paint cans standing upright on a worn concrete floor, illuminated by warm, golden light that accentuates their metallic sheen. Each can is cleverly wrapped in iconic soda can branding: Coca-Cola, Pepsi, and Mountain Dew. Their labels are realistically worn and peeling in places, adding a touch of authenticity to the scene. The Coca-Cola spray can features the classic red label with bold white script, with deep brown paint dripping down its sides, mimicking the color of the soda. Its nozzle is a striking fire-engine red, and the plastic cap lies on the floor nearby, reflecting the ambient light. The Pepsi spray can showcases the signature blue and red branding, with rich brown paint dripping down in a way that evokes a freshly poured cola. Its cap, matching the brand's deep blue hue, is positioned close to the base of the can. The Mountain Dew spray can is wrapped in the dynamic green label with angular typography, while neon green paint drips down, resembling the soda’s vibrant color. Its matching green cap sits to the side, catching subtle reflections from the environment. The background is softly blurred, depicting an urban setting with hints of graffiti-covered walls and industrial elements, creating an atmosphere of street art culture. The lighting is soft and diffused, casting gentle highlights that enhance the realism of the metallic surfaces. The composition is balanced, with a close-up perspective and a shallow depth of field focusing on the cans while softly blurring the environment. The overall mood is energetic, creative, and gritty, reflecting both urban art and playful branding, with textures and details that emphasize scratches, imperfections, and drips for added realism.

kukulkan
3 80

7 months ago

Craft a dynamic and emotionally charged oil painting that uses the double exposure technique to capture the raw energy, unity, and struggles of The Warriors. The central figure should be one of the Warriors, such as Swan, his face half-translucent and fierce, embodying both the individual and collective spirit of the gang. His expression should be filled with determination and defiance, while his figure dissolves into the gritty, chaotic streets of 1970s New York City—dark alleys, graffiti-tagged walls, and the stark silhouettes of neon lights. His features should bleed into the urban landscape, as though he is both a part of the city and a symbol of rebellion against it. Inside his form, a web of interconnected images from the Warriors' journey should emerge: the haunting image of the baseball bat-wielding Rogues, the fire-lit glow of the moonlit escape across subway tunnels, and the strong camaraderie of the Warriors themselves, seen through their shared struggles and brotherhood. The double exposure should seamlessly integrate these elements into his figure, illustrating the tension between individual survival and the unbreakable bond of the gang as they face overwhelming odds together. The color palette should reflect the gritty urban feel of the film, with cool blues, grays, and blacks contrasted with the neon oranges, reds, and greens of the streetlights and graffiti. The atmosphere should feel electric, filled with an undercurrent of danger, defiance, and unspoken loyalty. The oil painting should evoke a sense of movement—like a snapshot of the Warriors running through the night, the harsh cityscape blurring into their form, and the struggle against the forces that threaten to tear them apart. This double exposure composition should not only explore the Warriors' journey through the hostile streets but also the emotional and psychological depth of their fight for survival and unity. The contrast between the rawness of their environment and the bond they share should be at the heart of this painting, encapsulating the spirit of The Warriors as a timeless symbol of resilience and brotherhood.

Nednut4362
3 97

6 months ago

A powerful fully topless with, her breasts painted with blood, (witch:1.5) with (jet-black hair:1.4), her hair whipping violently in the chaotic winds, stands at the center of a (vertical spiraling vortex of fire:1.5), rising from the ground like a colossal (upright Twister ice cream:1.4). The unholy flames are (blue:1.3) and (purple:1.3), twisting and crackling as they encircle her in dense, spiraling coils, their glow casting intense, flickering shadows across her form and the scorched ground beneath her feet. Her eyes glow faintly white, rolled subtly back in her head, adding a terrifying and otherworldly aura to her appearance. The glow is faint, almost as if the light emanates from deep within her, intensifying her connection to the destructive forces she wields. Her expression is one of intense focus, her furrowed brows and parted lips showing the strain of channeling such immense power. She wears a (sheer black dress:1.6) with (oversized, flowing sleeves:1.5) that billow dramatically in the vortex’s winds. One side of her dress has come undone, sliding down her shoulder in the frenzy, revealing a subtle hint of one breast, as though the raw energy of her power has caused her appearance to become as chaotic as the firestorm she commands. The fabric clings lightly to her body in places, accentuating her curves while maintaining a sense of mystery and elegance. The dress flows dynamically in the swirling wind, twisting and fluttering as if alive, amplifying the sense of motion and intensity. She grips a (wand carved from a human femur:1.6), the handle adorned with (skeleton fingers:1.4) gripping the bone tightly, as though channeling her unholy power. Around her waist, a (rope belt:1.4) hangs loosely, adorned with (shrunken heads:1.7), their leathery faces twisted in agony, their grotesque forms reminiscent of the ceremonial work of Jivaroan tribes. The heads sway slightly in the vortex, their eerie stillness contrasting with the wild motion of the flames. The ground beneath her feet is scorched and cracked, glowing faintly with embers. Scattered (withered skulls and incomplete bones:1.3) lie among the charred earth, blending seamlessly into the apocalyptic scene. The (vertical vortex of fire:1.5) rises around her, twisting upward in a dense, hypnotic spiral. The flames pulse with chaotic energy, their intertwined hues of purple and blue casting (volumetric light:1.4) through the smoky, ash-filled air. The atmosphere is alive with glowing embers, drifting ash, and the faint echoes of crackling flames, creating a scene of raw, unrelenting power and destruction.

ElectricL
2 200

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.

ElectricL
2 140