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View detailsじゅうばんめ
Contest Entry
PixAI × zeta Original Character Creation Contest 2026 #zetaCollab
Show Parameters
- Original Prompt
- fate_スカサハ、fate_藤丸立香(男)、抱き合っている、二人が焦っている、二人とも恥ずかしがっている、目を見つめ合っている、二人とも赤面している、ロッカーの中に二人が入っている、ロッカーが閉じている、ロッカーの中が少しだけ透けて見えている、二人の顔にフォーカス、男と女の身長がほとんど同じ
- Mode
- pro
- Quality Tag
- ﹝Prompts﹞
- Size
- 768 x 1280
- Sampling Method
- Euler
- Negative
- lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
Prompt Helper
Model & LoRA used
Similar Images
Show moreじ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male)
close-up, two people, indoors, inside locker, locker interior, closed locker door, translucent locker door, faint silhouette visible through the door, embracing, hug, mutual hug, arms wrapped around each other, chest to chest, face to face, eye contact, staring into each other's eyes, looking at each other, panicking, flustered, hurried, embarrassed, blush, full-face blush, red cheeks, wide-eyed, sweatdrop, parted lips, tense shoulders, nose to nose, close proximity, same height, height difference almost none, woman with very long purple hair, red eyes, long hair falling over shoulders, man with short black hair, hair over one eye, blue eyes, black gloves, jacket, hair ribbon, focus on faces, tight framing on both faces, from side, dutch angle, low light, cramped
The shot is a tight side-on close-up, slightly tilted, cut off just above both crowns and just below both collarbones, so the two faces fill the frame and the locker interior crowds them from every edge -- a narrow grey metal box of ribbed panels and a cold shelf lip biting into the lower corner. They are jammed chest to chest, face to face, standing at almost exactly the same height: the woman's chin is level with his, her nose a scant finger-width from his. Her arms are locked around his back, one forearm crossed high between his shoulder blades, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket; his arms mirror hers, one hand splayed flat against the metal behind her shoulder, the other clamped at the small of her back, black-gloved fingers curled into her clothes. Both are caught mid-panic: her shoulders hunched up, his spine pressed back against the rear panel, neither with room to step away.
Their eyes are locked dead-on each other, no one looking anywhere else -- her red eyes wide and fixed on his, his one visible blue eye wide on hers, the other hidden under the black strand of hair falling over it. Both blush hard across the whole face, red flooding from cheekbones to ears. Her lips are parted on a held breath; his mouth is slightly open, jaw tight. A single sweat bead sits at his temple.
Beyond the locker's edges the closed door is not fully opaque: it glows faintly, a pale wash of corridor light bleeding through the thin metal, so the faint ghost of their silhouettes and the shape of the pressed-together bodies can be read through it. Only a faint outside light exists, seeping through the door's translucent panel; it catches the rims of their faces and the ridge of his glove on her back, and the interiors of the locker fall into deep shadow behind them.
Palette: cold grey metal and pale through-door light against warm red blushes and her purple hair, nothing else admitted. Mood: breathless, cramped tenderness.
じゅうばんめ
じ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male)
close-up, two people, indoors, inside locker, locker interior, closed locker door, translucent locker door, faint silhouette visible through the door, embracing, hug, mutual hug, arms wrapped around each other, chest to chest, face to face, eye contact, staring into each other's eyes, looking at each other, panicking, flustered, hurried, embarrassed, blush, full-face blush, red cheeks, wide-eyed, sweatdrop, parted lips, tense shoulders, nose to nose, close proximity, same height, height difference almost none, woman with very long purple hair, red eyes, long hair falling over shoulders, man with short black hair, hair over one eye, blue eyes, black gloves, jacket, hair ribbon, focus on faces, tight framing on both faces, from side, dutch angle, low light, cramped
The shot is a tight side-on close-up, slightly tilted, cut off just above both crowns and just below both collarbones, so the two faces fill the frame and the locker interior crowds them from every edge -- a narrow grey metal box of ribbed panels and a cold shelf lip biting into the lower corner. They are jammed chest to chest, face to face, standing at almost exactly the same height: the woman's chin is level with his, her nose a scant finger-width from his. Her arms are locked around his back, one forearm crossed high between his shoulder blades, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket; his arms mirror hers, one hand splayed flat against the metal behind her shoulder, the other clamped at the small of her back, black-gloved fingers curled into her clothes. Both are caught mid-panic: her shoulders hunched up, his spine pressed back against the rear panel, neither with room to step away.
Their eyes are locked dead-on each other, no one looking anywhere else -- her red eyes wide and fixed on his, his one visible blue eye wide on hers, the other hidden under the black strand of hair falling over it. Both blush hard across the whole face, red flooding from cheekbones to ears. Her lips are parted on a held breath; his mouth is slightly open, jaw tight. A single sweat bead sits at his temple.
Beyond the locker's edges the closed door is not fully opaque: it glows faintly, a pale wash of corridor light bleeding through the thin metal, so the faint ghost of their silhouettes and the shape of the pressed-together bodies can be read through it. Only a faint outside light exists, seeping through the door's translucent panel; it catches the rims of their faces and the ridge of his glove on her back, and the interiors of the locker fall into deep shadow behind them.
Palette: cold grey metal and pale through-door light against warm red blushes and her purple hair, nothing else admitted. Mood: breathless, cramped tenderness.
じゅうばんめ
じ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male)
close-up, two people, indoors, inside locker, locker interior, closed locker door, translucent locker door, faint silhouette visible through the door, embracing, hug, mutual hug, arms wrapped around each other, chest to chest, face to face, eye contact, staring into each other's eyes, looking at each other, panicking, flustered, hurried, embarrassed, blush, full-face blush, red cheeks, wide-eyed, sweatdrop, parted lips, tense shoulders, nose to nose, close proximity, same height, height difference almost none, woman with very long purple hair, red eyes, long hair falling over shoulders, man with short black hair, hair over one eye, blue eyes, black gloves, jacket, hair ribbon, focus on faces, tight framing on both faces, from side, dutch angle, low light, cramped
The shot is a tight side-on close-up, slightly tilted, cut off just above both crowns and just below both collarbones, so the two faces fill the frame and the locker interior crowds them from every edge -- a narrow grey metal box of ribbed panels and a cold shelf lip biting into the lower corner. They are jammed chest to chest, face to face, standing at almost exactly the same height: the woman's chin is level with his, her nose a scant finger-width from his. Her arms are locked around his back, one forearm crossed high between his shoulder blades, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket; his arms mirror hers, one hand splayed flat against the metal behind her shoulder, the other clamped at the small of her back, black-gloved fingers curled into her clothes. Both are caught mid-panic: her shoulders hunched up, his spine pressed back against the rear panel, neither with room to step away.
Their eyes are locked dead-on each other, no one looking anywhere else -- her red eyes wide and fixed on his, his one visible blue eye wide on hers, the other hidden under the black strand of hair falling over it. Both blush hard across the whole face, red flooding from cheekbones to ears. Her lips are parted on a held breath; his mouth is slightly open, jaw tight. A single sweat bead sits at his temple.
Beyond the locker's edges the closed door is not fully opaque: it glows faintly, a pale wash of corridor light bleeding through the thin metal, so the faint ghost of their silhouettes and the shape of the pressed-together bodies can be read through it. Only a faint outside light exists, seeping through the door's translucent panel; it catches the rims of their faces and the ridge of his glove on her back, and the interiors of the locker fall into deep shadow behind them.
Palette: cold grey metal and pale through-door light against warm red blushes and her purple hair, nothing else admitted. Mood: breathless, cramped tenderness.
じゅうばんめ
じ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male)
2girls, 1boy, 2girls, hug, mutual hug, face-to-face, close embrace, blushing, full-face blush, embarrassed, gazing at each other, eye contact, looking at another, inside locker, closed locker door, locker interior faintly visible through door, metal locker door in foreground, focus on faces, close-up, two-shot, almost same height, tall woman, mature female, long purple hair, very long hair, red eyes, short black hair, hair between eyes, blue eyes, school uniform, black jacket, long sleeves, black gloves, tight cramped space, shallow depth of field
The camera is a tight close-up two-shot pressed right up against the inside of the locker, looking out through the closed door: the metal door sits in the immediate foreground, its slatted vents cutting the frame into thin horizontal bands, and the two faces fill the space between it and the back wall. The woman and the boy stand face to face nearly nose to nose, their heights almost identical so their eyes meet on the same horizontal line. She has very long purple hair spilling down past her shoulders, crushed flat against the locker's back panel where the space is too narrow for it, and red eyes; he has short black hair with a strand falling between his eyes and blue eyes, his school jacket and black-gloved hands folded around her back. Their arms are wrapped around each other — her forearm across his shoulder blades, his gloved hands flat against her back — chests close, chins tilted slightly so neither breaks the gaze. Both are blushing hard, red across the cheeks and up to the ears, brows drawn in tight embarrassment, lips pressed together, eyes locked on each other's and unable to look away. The locker interior is cramped and dark: two narrow walls of grey metal close at either side, a shelf edge just visible at the lower corner, the slatted door throwing thin stripes of pale corridor light across their faces and hands so the light comes only through the vents, leaving the gaps between stripes in deep shadow. The faint gleam of the interior — the shine on her hair, the white of his collar, the red of their cheeks — shows through the door's slats as dim shapes barely readable from outside, so the closed door and the hint of what is behind it read at once. Palette limited to cold grey metal, deep shadow, the purple of her hair and the warm red flush on both faces; the only bright accents are their eyes and the blush. The door's vents carry a thin bar of corridor light down across her cheek and catch on the moisture at the corner of his eye. Intimate, flustered.
じゅうばんめ
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