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AI artwork featuring #Zenless Zone Zero, #Nicole Demara and #Anby Demara

Nicole Demara, Anby Demara

Arte IA di Christian Spyksma su PixAI. Tag: Zenless Zone Zero. Creato con Tsubaki.3 Flash.

#Zenless Zone Zero #Nicole Demara #Anby Demara

Pubblicato il Nov 14, 2026

Christian Spyksma

character: anby_demara, nicole_demara, copyright: zenless_zone_zero two girls, yuri, 2girls, from side, close-up, pov, profile, faces touching, licking, tongue, long tongue, thick tongue, wide tongue, saliva, heavy salivation, spit, spit on tongue, drooling, tongue out, open mouth, wide open mouth, teeth, red cheeks, blush, flushed cheeks, light pink tongue, wet tongue, glossy tongue, not smiling, serious, seductive, disgust, grossed out, furrowed brows, lidded eyes, pink hair, long pink hair, hair ribbon, black bow, green eyes, mole under eye, mole on cheek, crop top, strapless top, black shorts, tall female, taller female, short hair, grey hair, braid, orange eyes, black jacket, black skirt, black thighhighs, frown, annoyed, glaring, looking away, looking to the side, displeased, straight lips, pressed lips, arms at sides, motionless arms, spit on face, saliva on face, wet face, spit on cheek, spit on nose, spit on forehead, hugging, tight hug, arm around waist, hand on head, hand on back of head, holding head, hand on chin, holding chin, black background, simple background, dark background, dramatic lighting, rim light, half-closed eyes, looking at another, sweatdrop A very up-close POV shot, framed tight from the side so that the two faces fill almost the whole picture against a pure, absolute black field — nothing in the frame but the two girls, no furniture, no wall, no floor line; black is the only environment there is. Anby Demara stands on the left in profile, turned away from the viewer's right shoulder, her short grey hair with a thin braid hanging in front of her ear and her orange eyes slid hard to the far side of the frame, away from the other girl, fixed on nothing. Her brows are drawn down, her jaw set, her lips pressed into one dead-straight disapproving line, and her arms hang motionless at her sides, uncurled, unresisting, hands loose and still, so the whole refusal lives in her face and her stillness rather than her hands. In the crook of that rigid silence, Nicole Demara presses in from the right, one head taller than Anby, her pink hair falling forward over her shoulder with its ribbon bow and her mole under the outer eye catching the key light. Nicole's right hand is clamped on the back of Anby's head, fingers spread and buried in the grey hair, tilting it slightly towards her; her left hand is hooked under Anby's chin, fingers curled along the jaw and the pad of her thumb pressing the pale cheek upward into a soft bulge. Nicole's cheek is pressed close against Anby's, and her mouth is wide open, jaw dropped, lips pulled back flat and curved in no smile at all — a serious, heavy-lidded, seductive expression whose brows are pushed together in disgust at the same time, eyes half-closed and turned down at the cheek she is working on. Her enormous light-pink, fleshy, fat tongue pushes far out of her mouth and drags a broad wet stroke up the line of Anby's cheek from jaw to cheekbone, covering the skin it travels. Three separate runnels of spit stand raised on the surface of the tongue, thick enough to catch the light, and they trail back into her open mouth. Spit has already smeared everywhere across Anby's face from the slow drag: dark glossy streaks over her cheek, a bead running down her nose and pooled at the bridge, a smear across her forehead, and a strand bridging into the corner of her stiff straight mouth, her skin shining wet from hairline to jaw. Her folded arms at her sides stay perfectly still, her glare aimed sideways, unbroken. Nicole's cheek burns very red against the pale grey cheek pressed to it. The single key light comes from the front left, a hard cold-white source just off-lens: it catches the wet ridges of the tongue, the pooled spit on Anby's nose and forehead, and the rim of Nicole's red cheek, throwing a bright highlight along the tongue's edge and leaving the far side of both faces to fall away into the black with no shadow detail at all. Palette is strictly black ground, wet light-pink tongue, flushed red cheeks, grey hair and the pale wet sheen of Anby's skin. Every detail is spent on the open mouth, the tongue and its running rivers of spit, the clamped fingers on the back of the head and under the chin, and the gleaming slick across Anby's face. Uncomfortably intimate, airless.

Nicole Demara, Anby Demara

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