null passing second

    A guy write a large red graffiti text "every 60 seconds in Africa a minute passes" on the steet wall, he is in hooded sweater wearing backpack.
    poster: a skinny sad black guy sits on a stone in a poor small village. Text above him in bold letters: "Every 60 seconds in Africa a minute passes". Text under him in bold letters: "Donate to Stop It Now!" <lora:FluxCyberpunkAnimeStyle.safetensors:1.0>,
    Living in darkness, became a burden in daylight Carrying the souls of the dead and feeding them with life Stop wearing me out, I present you the gate I'm passing you over and leave you with faith You're living a second life that don't belong to you Step out of my body, I believe you like it too Stop wearing me out, I present you the gate I'm passing you over and leave you with faith,aidmaimageupgrader, DNdGr41nyB0yz style , apoca1 illustration
    A crystal-skinned sorcerer, his translucent body glowing with soft, inner light, hovers above a pool of shimmering water. His skin is made of smooth, glowing quartz, with veins of gold and silver running through his limbs, pulsating with raw magical energy. His glowing, violet eyes are locked in intense focus as his hands weave intricate patterns in the air, creating swirling orbs of radiant light. His robes, flowing and iridescent, shimmer with the colors of the rainbow, changing hues with each movement. Above his head, floating lazily, are arcane sigils that glow with ethereal light, each symbol representing a different school of magic. Behind him, the landscape is surreal—a floating island suspended in the sky, with massive, glowing crystals growing from the ground and reflecting the light of distant stars. The air around him hums with power, the very fabric of reality bending and warping at his will. His lips are set in a thin, determined line, his mind completely consumed by the spell he is casting. His entire form glows brighter with each passing second, a living conduit of ancient, raw magic.<lora:black_fantasy_1.0>
    Concept art, (shot above the thighs), a hauntingly beautiful bride with long, flowing white hair that contrasts starkly with her deep, sorrowful eyes, which seem to carry the weight of an unfulfilled promise. Her skin is pale, almost luminescent, as if she were made of moonlight. She wears (a tattered wedding gown that was once magnificent, now adorned with withered flowers and vines that have begun to entwine with the fabric). Her veil is torn and floats eerily in the wind, and her hands, delicate and graceful, hold a bouquet of dead roses that crumble to ash with each passing second. She stands in a shadowed forest, where twisted trees with gnarled branches loom ominously, their leaves long gone, and the ground beneath her feet is covered in mist. In a dynamic pose, she looks back over her shoulder, as if searching for the love that never arrived, while shadows twist and writhe around her. The background is a dark, eerie landscape filled with the echoes of forgotten vows and lost love, with faint, ghostly figures appearing and disappearing in the distance. The atmosphere is tragic and haunting, filled with the sorrow of love lost to time and fate, with soft, melancholic lighting, and a mood of deep, unrelenting sadness. , in style of Ilya Kuvshinov
    Beneath the towering arches of an alien canyon, a space cowboy rides a hovering stallion across the dusty red plains, his eyes fixed on the distant glow of a spaceport nestled between jagged cliffs. His long, brown coat flutters in the thin atmosphere, and his hat, adorned with silver insignias of long-gone lawmen, casts a shadow over his determined gaze. Above him, twin moons hang low in the purple-tinted sky, their light reflecting off the polished chrome of his mechanical steed, which gallops effortlessly over the uneven terrain. The canyon walls rise like ancient sentinels on either side, etched with strange, glowing symbols that pulse in rhythm with the planet’s heartbeat. His blaster, well-worn but still deadly, rests in a holster at his hip, while a lasso made of crackling plasma coils neatly by his side. Dust kicks up in his wake as he pushes forward, the distant hum of the spaceport’s traffic growing louder with each passing second. Far above, massive cargo freighters glide silently across the sky, casting long shadows on the canyon floor. The cowboy’s face is set in a grim expression, knowing that whatever lies ahead will determine whether he leaves this forsaken planet in one piece. The scene is a fusion of frontier grit and futuristic wonder, where technology and the untamed wilderness collide.<lora:FLUX_anime_Special Ink-drawing mode_merge_24_medium_3_00001_:0.7><lora:Anime v1.3:0.7>
    Concept art, (shot above the thighs), a hauntingly beautiful bride with long, flowing white hair that contrasts starkly with her deep, sorrowful eyes, which seem to carry the weight of an unfulfilled promise. Her skin is pale, almost luminescent, as if she were made of moonlight. She wears (a tattered wedding gown that was once magnificent, now adorned with withered flowers and vines that have begun to entwine with the fabric). Her veil is torn and floats eerily in the wind, and her hands, delicate and graceful, hold a bouquet of dead roses that crumble to ash with each passing second. She stands in a shadowed forest, where twisted trees with gnarled branches loom ominously, their leaves long gone, and the ground beneath her feet is covered in mist. In a dynamic pose, she looks back over her shoulder, as if searching for the love that never arrived, while shadows twist and writhe around her. The background is a dark, eerie landscape filled with the echoes of forgotten vows and lost love, with faint, ghostly figures appearing and disappearing in the distance. The atmosphere is tragic and haunting, filled with the sorrow of love lost to time and fate, with soft, melancholic lighting, and a mood of deep, unrelenting sadness. , in style of Ilya Kuvshinov
    ne0nfant4sy, A dragonborn sorceress, her sapphire scales shimmering in the twilight, stands with both hands raised as a swirling orb of lightning crackles between her clawed fingers. Her long, sweeping horns curl elegantly back over her head, framing her angular, draconic face. Her slitted golden eyes glow with arcane power, locked in intense concentration as she channels the storm. Her robe, deep purple and trimmed with silver, flutters around her tall, imposing frame as gusts of wind swirl in response to the magic she commands. The air around her hums with energy, and the faint scent of ozone hangs heavy. Behind her, jagged mountains rise against a stormy sky, dark clouds flashing with lightning. Her tail lashes behind her, the muscles in her arms flexing as she pours more energy into the spell, the lightning crackling louder with each passing second. Her expression is one of controlled ferocity, every ounce of her focus dedicated to the storm she wields. The energy of the storm reflects in her golden eyes, casting a bright glow over her determined face.<lora:RetroAnimeFluxV1:0.5><lora:NeonFantasyFLUX:0.3>
    A crystal-skinned sorcerer, his translucent body glowing with soft, inner light, hovers above a pool of shimmering water. His skin is made of smooth, glowing quartz, with veins of gold and silver running through his limbs, pulsating with raw magical energy. His glowing, violet eyes are locked in intense focus as his hands weave intricate patterns in the air, creating swirling orbs of radiant light. His robes, flowing and iridescent, shimmer with the colors of the rainbow, changing hues with each movement. Above his head, floating lazily, are arcane sigils that glow with ethereal light, each symbol representing a different school of magic. Behind him, the landscape is surreal—a floating island suspended in the sky, with massive, glowing crystals growing from the ground and reflecting the light of distant stars. The air around him hums with power, the very fabric of reality bending and warping at his will. His lips are set in a thin, determined line, his mind completely consumed by the spell he is casting. His entire form glows brighter with each passing second, a living conduit of ancient, raw magic.<lora:DnDDarkestFantasy:0.5><lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.75><lora:Dever_Flux_Enhancer:0.5><lora:Aura_Flux-000010:0.6>

      FLUX

    • Dev - flux_dev.safetensors