SD3.5 Community Gallery

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🚨 All generations are PUBLIC.

The purpose of this site is to allow everyone to openly experiment with Flux Pro, so that we can assess it's strengths and weaknesses collectively rather than in isolation, and to learn about it's prompting styles from one another.

🐰✨ Spring into Creativity! 🌸🥚

Celebrate the season of renewal with fresh artistic perspectives! Let spring colors and new beginnings inspire your creative journey.

A dreamlike portrait of a woman behind a foggy, translucent barrier, eyes closed in serene sorrow, holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums close to her chest. Soft, moody lighting casts gentle shadows across her form, evoking intimacy, loss, and sacred stillness. The condensation on the barrier reflects the emotional distance between memory and presence, as if she exists in a threshold realm—between past and present, life and spirit. A quiet melancholy pervades the scene, blending vulnerability with quiet strength. Her expression is peaceful, yet steeped in longing, like a farewell whispered in silence. The atmosphere is ethereal, timeless, and deeply symbolic of inner reflection and the fragile veil between worlds.
<lora:FLUX-daubrez-DB4RZ-v2:0.55> <lora:Sinfully_Stylish_.02_for_FLUX:0.35> <lora:dystopia:0.6>

ORIGINAL PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of artist (ed templeton:1.4), as a (illustration:1.6).
A poignant Space Exploration Science Fiction scene.
PRODUCTION PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of artist (ed templeton:1.4), as a (illustration:1.6).
In the depths of a desolate planetary orbit, a lone astronaut floats in silence amidst the inky blackness of space. The faint glow of starlight casts an ethereal ambiance on the somber figure, as if the universe itself is paying respects to their monumental achievement. A solitary, shimmering planet hangs like a ghostly sentinel on the horizon, its icy surface etched with the whispers of an unforgiving wind. In the astronaut's eyes, a mixture of triumph and despair wrestles for dominance, as they stand at the threshold of a discovery that will rewrite the course of human history forever.

ORIGINAL PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of artist (mab graves:1.4), as a (scrapbooking:1.6).
An evocative and detailed Parallel Universe Fiction Science Fiction scene.
PRODUCTION PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of artist (mab graves:1.4), as a (scrapbooking:1.6).
In a realm beyond our own, a lone figure stands at the threshold of a desolate cityscape, its crumbling skyscrapers piercing the smog-choked sky like shattered spires. The air is heavy with an otherworldly energy, as if the very fabric of reality is torn and fraying at the seams. In the distance, a brilliant sun casts an eerie glow, illuminating the figure's determined face and casting long shadows across their features. The atmosphere is thick with anticipation, as if the very fate of this parallel universe hangs precariously in the balance.

ORIGINAL PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of (didier graffet:1.4), as a (sectional view:1.6).
A surrealistic Mythic Fantasy scene.
PRODUCTION PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of (didier graffet:1.4), as a (sectional view:1.6).
A solitary figure, cloaked in misty dawn attire, stands at the threshold of a dreamlike forest, where twisted tree roots resemble gnarled fingers reaching for the heavens. The sky above is a deep shade of indigo, with tendrils of golden light creeping across the horizon like wispy brushstrokes on wet canvas. In the background, a sprawling city made entirely of ivory and crystal pierces the sky, its spires glinting like shards of splintered moonlight.

ORIGINAL PROMPT:
An artwork of an african elephant, done in the style of artist (ashley wood:1.4), as a (ink drawing:1.6).
PRODUCTION PROMPT: A worn, earthy-toned savannah landscape stretches out behind a majestic African elephant, its massive frame rendered in precise, dark lines that evoke the boldness of Ashley Wood's illustrations. The elephant's trunk is curved in a gentle, enquiring pose, as if reaching for something just beyond the edge of perception. The overall effect is one of quiet contemplation, as if the beast has absorbed all the secrets of its ancestral lands and now stands poised on the threshold of some ancient, timeless understanding.

$Shrouded in an air of forgotten divinity, the Mothkeeper stands as a haunting fusion of decayed royalty and insectile mysticism. Her alabaster skin glows faintly with an unnatural stillness, a contrast to the living shimmer of the moth-creatures that orbit her like silent sentinels. Clad in a flowing, ancient gown resembling moth wings left too long in shadow, its fabric tears like parchment and shifts like smoke. An ornate golden chestpiece is embedded with a cocoon—glowing dimly with latent metamorphosis—an organic relic binding her to the realm between life and rebirth. Her crimson hood falls over a bone-like crown that fans out in symmetrical ridges, mirroring the architecture of a moth's antennae or the fractured chitin of a forgotten queen. Her eyes, red as dying embers, are not vacant—but ancient, as though she remembers every veil ever lifted. Veins of green iridescence pulse faintly through her garments and skin, a sign of corrupted sorcery pulsing within. The Mothkeeper is no mere mortal. She is guardian of thresholds, spinner of illusion, and vessel of transformation. She whispers to the lost through the wings of her companions, weaving dreams that hover between salvation and surrender. <lora:FLUX-daubrez-DB4RZ-v2:0.55> <lora:Sinfully_Stylish_.02_for_FLUX:0.35> <lora:dystopia:0.6>$

ORIGINAL PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of artist (brian m viveros:1.4), as a (fujicolor c200:1.6).
An evocative and detailed Portal Fantasy scene.
PRODUCTION PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of artist (brian m viveros:1.4), as a (fujicolor c200:1.6).
In a mist-shrouded realm, where twisted stone archways crumble beneath roots grown heavy with emerald moss, a lone figure stands at the threshold of a grand portal. The air is alive with whispers of ancient lore as soft golden light seeps from the gates, bathing the surroundings in an otherworldly radiance. The figure's eyes are cast downward, weighed by the burden of destiny, as their hand stretches out to grasp the weathered iron knocker in the shape of a snarling lion's head - its metal lips twisted into a silent roar that echoes through the realm like a forgotten memory.

ORIGINAL PROMPT:
Norse Pantheon: Depict the Norse deity LÃ³Ã°urr against a backdrop sacred to that particular deity. Complex Patterns.
PRODUCTION PROMPT: Enveloped in misty dawn, LÃ³Ã°urr stands at the threshold of the realm of the setting sun, gazing out upon the golden gates of Alfheim with eyes both fierce and knowing. The pantheon's trickster god exudes an aura of subtle power as intricate patterns of silver and gold dance across his armor, echoes of the nine worlds' celestial harmonies.
Behind him, a tapestry of interconnected spirals unfurls like the threads of fate itself, woven from the very essence of Niflheim's dark magic. The air is alive with the soft glow of flickering candles, casting an ethereal light upon LÃ³Ã°urr's face as if the fire that fuels his pranks and mischief had taken on a life of its own.
In this serene yet turbulent moment, the balance between chaos and order seems poised on the brink of collapse, hinting at the profound impact this enigmatic deity will unleash upon the cosmos. The scene is bathed in an soft, otherworldly hue, as if the very fabric of reality has been subtly altered by LÃ³Ã°urr's presence, beckoning the viewer into a realm both wondrous and mysterious.

$ORIGINAL PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of (ryan ottley:1.4), as a (tattoo:1.6). A surrealistic depiction of a random fantasy scene of the seapunk genre. complex patterns. PRODUCTION PROMPT: An artwork done in the style of (ryan ottley:1.4), as a (tattoo:1.6). In the swirling mists of a mystical realm, where steam-powered ships sailed beneath the radiant moonlight and the air reeked of saltwater and smoke, a singular figure stood at the prow of a majestic vessel. Her name was Lyra, a seapunk of unyielding passion and curiosity, with an insatiable thirst for discovery that had driven her to chart the uncharted waters of the unknown. The ship itself was a marvel of twisted copper pipes, gleaming brass accents, and undulating wooden decks that seemed to writhe like living serpents. Lyra's vessel, dubbed "Maelstrom's Fury," cut through the waves with a hypnotic rhythm, as if propelled by an unseen force that synchronized with the cadence of her own heartbeat. As she gazed out into the depths, where bioluminescent creatures danced in the darkness like ethereal ballerinas, Lyra's eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intensity. Her hair, a wild tangle of silver-blonde locks, cascaded down her back like a river of starlight, and her skin shone with a luminous glow, as if infused with the essence of moonflowers. Her attire was a masterful blend of functionality and whimsy: brass-rimmed goggles perched on her forehead, adorned with glittering opals that refracted the light into miniature rainbows; a leather corset cinched at the waist, embroidered with intricate patterns of seaweed and shells that shimmered like mermaid's tears. Around her neck, a delicate chain supported a glinting amulet in the shape of a seashell, its curves echoing the sinuous lines of the ship's hull. As Maelstrom's Fury vanished into the mists, Lyra's figure became one with the landscape itself â a living embodiment of the dreamlike magic that dwelled within this mystical realm. Her presence seemed to awaken hidden harmonies within the waves, as if she had become an extension of the very fabric of the sea. And in that instant, the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred, and Lyra stood at the threshold of realms both wondrous and unknown â her name etched into the annals of legend, forever bound to the mystical allure of Maelstrom's Fury.$

A metaphysical masterpiece where reality bends at the edge of a cosmic precipice, with ethereal horses transforming between solid and vapor, their manes and tails becoming ribbons of wind and stardust. The composition spirals dramatically from a misty cliff edge into infinite space, where time itself seems to dissolve. Translucent layers of fog weave through the scene, creating a gossamer veil between dimensions. The horses' forms fluctuate between corporeal and spiritual, their eyes blazing with otherworldly awareness as they gallop through the threshold between existence and void. The color palette shifts from earthen cliff tones to ethereal cosmic hues, with light sources seeming to emanate from within the scene itself. Drawing inspiration from Salvador Dalí's metaphysical surrealism, Zdzisław Beksiński's dreamlike atmospheres, and William Blake's mystical visions, with touches of Roberto Matta's cosmic abstractions.

*Flow in the Name of Love*
*Channel_42* *中* *snoo*
*Artificially_Atypically_Autistically*

*A ChaNNEl_42 Story*
*Only Available on civitai.green*

The cabin door creaked open on its own, a silent invitation to the horrors within. Jubilee's breath hitched in her throat. She told herself to turn back, but her feet remained rooted to the spot. The allure of the mysterious light was too strong to resist. She took a tentative step over the threshold, her eyes adjusting to the interior.

*Broadcast_Station_42*

*Shutting down*
*Going dark*
*Offline*

$ORIGINAL PROMPT: An enigmatic aerialist is suspended in mid-air, their body rendered in intricate fractal patterns reminiscent of Victor Ngai's geometric masterpieces. As the figure floats within an impossible geometry, distorted clockwork mechanisms and strange botanicals tangle around them, evoking a sense of mystifying temporal dislocation. art nouveau, complex patterns. PRODUCTION PROMPT: A delicate ballerina stands poised at the threshold of infinity, her slender form twisted into impossible curves that seem to dissolve and reassemble themselves. Her face is an enigmatic mask, shrouded in a misty aura that veils the sharp angles of her features. As she hangs suspended in mid-air, an intricate tapestry of steampunk clockwork gears and flowers unfurls around her like a hallucinatory dreamscape. The overall effect is one of hypnotic temporal dislocation, as if the very fabric of time has been twisted and tangled into impossible geometries.$