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らり

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らり

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character: yukino_mifuyu_(puuzaki_puuna) 1girl, yukino_mifuyu_(puuzaki_puuna), silver_hair, blue_hair, hair_between_eyes, hair_bun, ahoge, sidelocks, blue_eyes, huge_breasts, white_turtleneck_sweater, sleeveless_turtleneck, sleeveless, dark_blue_pencil_skirt, latex_skirt, shiny_skirt, micromini_skirt, tight_skirt, dark_brown_leggings, black_heels, bare_shoulders, prone, face_down, lying_on_floor, cheek_on_floor, cheek_pressed_against_floor, butt_out, ass_up, breasts_squashed_against_floor, flat_breasts, arms_hanging, limp_arms, limp_body, exhausted, no_strength, dead_fish_eyes, empty_eyes, lifeless, half-closed_eyes, parted_lips, sweat, messy_hair, multiple_boys, 6+boys, male_focus, dark_skin, dark_skinned_males, muscular, grey_sweatpants, only_legs_visible, legs_only, faceless_males, standing_around, surrounding, crowd, from_above, top-down_angle, from_front, high_angle, wide_shot, indoors, construction_site, unfinished_room, curtain_wall, floor_to_ceiling_windows, glass_wall, night, night_city_view, city_lights, skyscraper_window, enema_liquid, liquid_on_floor, puddle, wet_floor, liquid_on_glass, smeared_liquid, reflections, glossy_floor, cinematic_lighting, dim_lighting, cold_blue_palette, after_sex, spent, motionless, quiet_aftermath, helpless, defeated The camera looks steeply down and forward from above her, a high frontal three-quarter top-down view of an unfinished high-floor room where the curtain wall's bare aluminum mullions divide panels of night glass, the whole city a field of small cold white and amber points smeared softly by the glass and by the wet streaks running down its lower panes. Yukino Mifuyu lies prone in the middle of the concrete slab floor, seen from her crown and shoulders down her back to the raised hips and the splayed lower legs: her cheek and the side of her jaw are ground flat against the cold floor, one eye visible in the downward view, sclera dull, iris unfocused, the lid barely a third open, the lashes wet and stuck, her lips parted slack with a thin thread of drool joining mouth to concrete. Her silver hair has come half out of its bun, wet strands of hair-between-eyes plastered across her forehead and one strand caught on her cheek; loose silver falls to the floor and lies in the puddle. Her white sleeveless turtleneck is soaked through and clings, translucent at the shoulder blades and ribs, the turtleneck collar sagging away from her throat; her breasts are crushed flat under her chest, the shape spread out sideways against the slab, the fabric pulled taut over them. Her arms both hang straight down along her sides, forearms and palms lying open and slack on the floor, fingers curled at rest, no grip in them. Behind her, her hips are cranked up off the floor so the dark blue latex micromini pencil skirt rides up and stretches mirror-tight and glossy over each lifted buttock, its hem cut high across the backs of her thighs, a hot specular streak sliding over the latex; the dark brown leggings sheathe the legs below it with a matte knit sheen, her black heels still on, one ankle rolled outward, both feet heavy and inert. All around her, close, only the legs of the dark-skinned men are in frame, six pairs of muscular calves and thighs in grey sweatpants planted between the camera and her, some barefoot, some in trainers, standing so near her raised hips that the sweatpants brush the air above her legs, the grey fabric hanging in vertical folds; their upper bodies are cut off entirely by the top edge of the frame, no faces, no torsos. Enema fluid is everywhere on the slab: a broad shallow puddle pooled under her hips and belly that mirrors the ceiling grid as a broken darker reflection, smeared hand-widths and drag tracks of slick fluid streaking the concrete where bodies have moved, and the same fluid smeared down the inside of the glass in long runnels, each runnel carrying its own small highlights where the city lights strike the wet film. The only light comes from outside the curtain wall -- the cold blue-white glow of the high-rise night city and the amber of a distant street -- so the wet floor and the latex skirt catch a rim of that light while her face, buried against the concrete, sits in a soft dim shadow and all the men's legs land as dark grey silhouettes with a faint blue edge down one side. Palette restricted to silver-white, cold night blue, wet amber reflections, dark brown knit and the deep glossy navy of the latex. Listless, ruined.
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Prompt original
Yukino Mifuyu, blue eyes, silver hair, hair between eyes, hair bun, huge breasts, , white turtleneck sweater, sleeveless, latex tight shiny dark blue short micromini pencil skirt, dark brown leggings,black heels、 BBC_TP, BBC, dark skin, dark skinned male,, grey sweatpants, m_crowd, multiple boys, muscular, dark-skinned man:1.0), inside the curtain wall construction room, high floor, night view, 大勢のBbcが女の周りを囲んでる。 男達の脚だけ映る。 top-down, bottom-up, , ,butt out, アングルは上前から 床やガラスに浣腸液がついている。床に水溜まりがある。 全ての浣腸液を出してうつ伏せで死体のように床に頬を擦り付けてる。目は気力がない。死んだ魚の目。体力を使い果たしてダランとチカラが入らない。 お尻だけ突き出して持ち上がっている。 両腕は下にダランとしている。 胸が床に押しつぶされている。 死体
Modo
pro
Etiqueta de calidad
﹝Prompts﹞
Tamaño
992 x 992
Método de muestreo
Euler
Excluir de la imagen
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
Asistente de prompts

Modelo y LoRA utilizados

Tsubaki.3 - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
6.08k

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AI artwork
Avatar image of らり
character: yukino_mifuyu_(puuzaki_puuna) 1girl, solo, yukino_mifuyu_(puuzaki_puuna), lying on stomach, facedown, prone, completely limp, exhausted, eyes closed, no highlights in eyes, matte eyes, white hair, hair bun, loose front strands, sidelocks, hair between eyes, long hair, cyan eyes, white turtleneck, tight dark blue short skirt, dark brown leggings, black heels, torn clothes, ripped fabric, small puddle, living room, indoors, on floor, from above, dutch angle, foreshortening, high angle, best quality, great quality, anime illustration The camera looks down from above at a steep, slightly tilted angle, so the single figure lies across the floor in foreshortening, her head at the near-bottom of the frame and her hips and legs receding up and away. She is flat on her belly, face down on the wooden living-room floor, one cheek pressed into the boards, and every limb is surrendered to gravity: her arms are splayed loosely forward and out, palms half-curled and upturned, fingers slack and touching nothing; her hips lie heavy and twisted a fraction to one side so one black heel has slipped half off its foot and hangs at an angle from the toe, the other heel still on. Her back has no arch and no tension in it, and her legs trail loose behind her. Her eyes are shut, the lids smooth and motionless, and where they meet, the closed lids carry flat-matte cyan with no glint, no catchlight, no sheen anywhere -- dull, drained, unlit. Her white hair is gathered into a bun at the back of her head, but the front has come loose: long white strands and sidelocks spill free across her brow and cheek and fan out over the floorboards beside her face, fine tips lifting slightly where the air stirs them. Her white turtleneck is still on her, pulled askew and rucked up around the shoulders, and it is torn -- a long rip opening across one shoulder seam and a jagged hole at the ribs exposing a scrap of pale skin, the fibres frayed and the knit stretched out of shape. The tight dark blue short skirt sits low on her hips, hiked and creased from the fall, its hem twisted. Dark brown leggings sheath her legs all the way down to the black high heels, matte and close-fitting, a run starting faintly at one knee. Beside her cheek and one outflung hand, a small puddle of water sits in a low hollow of the floorboards; the boards' seams break its edge into notches, it reflects the white of her hair and the pale blue of the room in a soft, darker, dimmer mirror than the hair itself, and the wetness creeps into the grain of the wood well past the standing water. Her outflung fingertips rest just short of the wet edge. The living room around her holds itself still: a low sofa against the far wall, a coffee table with a toppled cushion beneath it, a rug rucked at one corner, curtained windows at the left. The only light comes in through those curtains as a lowered, cool late-afternoon wash that lands across the floor and over her back and hair, catching the dust and the damp sheen of the puddle; under the sofa, beneath the table, and in the whole room beyond the curtain light, the shadow is deep and brown. Palette of pale wood, drowsy ochre, cool window light and the muted white-blue of her hair and skirt. Quiet, drained collapse.
らり
AI artwork
Avatar image of らり
character: yukino_mifuyu_(puuzaki_puuna) 1girl, solo, yukino_mifuyu_(puuzaki_puuna), lying on stomach, facedown, prone, completely limp, exhausted, eyes closed, no highlights in eyes, matte eyes, white hair, hair bun, loose front strands, sidelocks, hair between eyes, long hair, cyan eyes, white turtleneck, tight dark blue short skirt, dark brown leggings, black heels, torn clothes, ripped fabric, small puddle, living room, indoors, on floor, from above, dutch angle, foreshortening, high angle, best quality, great quality, anime illustration The camera looks down from above at a steep, slightly tilted angle, so the single figure lies across the floor in foreshortening, her head at the near-bottom of the frame and her hips and legs receding up and away. She is flat on her belly, face down on the wooden living-room floor, one cheek pressed into the boards, and every limb is surrendered to gravity: her arms are splayed loosely forward and out, palms half-curled and upturned, fingers slack and touching nothing; her hips lie heavy and twisted a fraction to one side so one black heel has slipped half off its foot and hangs at an angle from the toe, the other heel still on. Her back has no arch and no tension in it, and her legs trail loose behind her. Her eyes are shut, the lids smooth and motionless, and where they meet, the closed lids carry flat-matte cyan with no glint, no catchlight, no sheen anywhere -- dull, drained, unlit. Her white hair is gathered into a bun at the back of her head, but the front has come loose: long white strands and sidelocks spill free across her brow and cheek and fan out over the floorboards beside her face, fine tips lifting slightly where the air stirs them. Her white turtleneck is still on her, pulled askew and rucked up around the shoulders, and it is torn -- a long rip opening across one shoulder seam and a jagged hole at the ribs exposing a scrap of pale skin, the fibres frayed and the knit stretched out of shape. The tight dark blue short skirt sits low on her hips, hiked and creased from the fall, its hem twisted. Dark brown leggings sheath her legs all the way down to the black high heels, matte and close-fitting, a run starting faintly at one knee. Beside her cheek and one outflung hand, a small puddle of water sits in a low hollow of the floorboards; the boards' seams break its edge into notches, it reflects the white of her hair and the pale blue of the room in a soft, darker, dimmer mirror than the hair itself, and the wetness creeps into the grain of the wood well past the standing water. Her outflung fingertips rest just short of the wet edge. The living room around her holds itself still: a low sofa against the far wall, a coffee table with a toppled cushion beneath it, a rug rucked at one corner, curtained windows at the left. The only light comes in through those curtains as a lowered, cool late-afternoon wash that lands across the floor and over her back and hair, catching the dust and the damp sheen of the puddle; under the sofa, beneath the table, and in the whole room beyond the curtain light, the shadow is deep and brown. Palette of pale wood, drowsy ochre, cool window light and the muted white-blue of her hair and skirt. Quiet, drained collapse.
らり

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