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AI artwork featuring #Bodysuit
Jana Secara Percuma

Bodysuit

Seni AI oleh ใ—ใ‚“ใ‚‰ใ di PixAI. Dijana dengan Tsubaki.3 Flash.

#Bodysuit
ใ—

ใ—ใ‚“ใ‚‰ใ

Lebih Banyak untuk Dilihat

Komen

side view, full body, solo, mature female, black hair, long hair, blue eyes, silver glasses, huge breasts, huge hips, silver bodysuit, silver gloves, silver boots, lying on floor, on back, running, reaching upward, defeated, sad, crying, tears, grimace, surrender, black slime blobs, covered in slime, black slime on face, black slime on cheek, black slime on arms, black slime on legs, black slime on back, surrounded by blobs, many blobs, restrained by blobs, shiny skin, sweat, wet clothes, trembling, clenched teeth, looking up, catwalk, big white hallway, 100 wall cannons, wide shot, from side, dutch angle, high detail, cinematic lighting The camera sits low and level with the catwalk itself, a true side view of a single woman stretched on the floor of the corridor, the frame running the full length of her body from her silver boots at the lower left to her long black hair fanned loose across the polished walkway at the upper right. She lies on her back, her spine arched up off the floor and her hip and shoulder blades the only points of contact, her huge hips shifting her weight hard to one side and her knees drawn halfway up while one long leg tries to kick free โ€” she is caught in the same half second as her run, her body still carrying the forward momentum of a sprint that has already collapsed into a fall. Her silver-gloved arm reaches up and back over her head, the fingers spread and straining toward the tall ceiling, and the other arm is pinned across her chest. Her mature face is turned along the catwalk in profile, her blue eyes wide and wet behind the silver glasses that sit slightly crooked on the bridge of her nose, tears sliding sideways from the outer corner of her eye into the loose strands of her black hair; her mouth is pulled open in a sob and one brow knotted as she stares up past the cannons. Black slime blobs come down the walls and up through the gaps in the walkway on every side of her. They swarm her back in one glossy mass, wedging under her shoulder blade and hooking around her waist to peel her arched spine farther off the floor; they wrap her reaching arm from wrist to elbow and drag it back; they coil around both silver-booted legs in rings and clamp her ankle down. A small blob clings to her cheek just under the rim of her glasses, drawn thin and webbed where her face moves against it. There are far too many to count โ€” some the size of fists, some the size of her torso, all the same deep lacquered black with wet highlights. About half her body disappears beneath an uneven blanket of them, and a larger one is already climbing over her jaw and closing across her cheek and chin, spreading over her mouth and up over her nose. She has given up: the flicker of struggle in her hand is the last flicker, and the rest of her has gone limp on the floor. The hallway is a long vaulted run of white stone with a high polished catwalk down its center, and both interior walls are set with a regular grid of a hundred cannon barrels, every muzzle aimed inward and down toward the spot where she has fallen. Their metal shapes are silhouetted dark against the pale walls. The room is lit from above โ€” a single broad shaft of soft white light from high in the vault falls straight down and catches the top edges of the cannons and the walkway; the undersides of her body, her bent knees and the inside of the corridor floor fall into gentle gray shadow. Her reflection stretches long and distorted in the wet polish under her, darker and softer than she is. The palette is silver, white, and black โ€” silver suit, gloves and boots with clean specular sweep across their curves, white walls, and everything else rendered in glossy black slime โ€” with only her blue eyes and the faint warmth of her cheeks lifting out of the cold scheme, all polished and airbrushed in a mature anime style with soft smooth gradients and almost invisible brushwork. Desperate defeat.
Paparkan Parameter
Prompt Asal
mature female, silver glasses, black hair, long hair, blue eyes, huge breasts, huge hips, silver bodysuit, silver gloves, silver boots, masterpiece, full body, sexy, max quality, masterpiece, defeat, breast torture, sad, lay on the floor, black slime blobs, surrounded, surrounded by black slime blobs, slime blobs, attacked on back , black slime blobs, body Attack by black blobs, black blob attacked on the face cheek, blobs attacked on arm, blobs attacked on legs, half body Attacked by a lot of blobs , almost body Attacked by blobs , cannons from the walls, 100 cannons from the walls ,catwalk, big white hallway with cannons, blobs attacked, body cover by a lot of slime blobs, surrender by blobs, blobs cover body , run, running with the blobs, lay down, face cover by slime blobs, side view
Mod
flash
Saiz
1824 x 1104
Pembantu Prompt

Model & LoRA yang digunakan

Tsubaki.3 Flash - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3 Flash
2.15k

Imej Serupa

Papar lagi
AI artwork
ใ—
side view, full body, solo, mature female, black hair, long hair, blue eyes, silver glasses, huge breasts, huge hips, silver bodysuit, silver gloves, silver boots, lying on floor, on back, running, reaching upward, defeated, sad, crying, tears, grimace, surrender, black slime blobs, covered in slime, black slime on face, black slime on cheek, black slime on arms, black slime on legs, black slime on back, surrounded by blobs, many blobs, restrained by blobs, shiny skin, sweat, wet clothes, trembling, clenched teeth, looking up, catwalk, big white hallway, 100 wall cannons, wide shot, from side, dutch angle, high detail, cinematic lighting The camera sits low and level with the catwalk itself, a true side view of a single woman stretched on the floor of the corridor, the frame running the full length of her body from her silver boots at the lower left to her long black hair fanned loose across the polished walkway at the upper right. She lies on her back, her spine arched up off the floor and her hip and shoulder blades the only points of contact, her huge hips shifting her weight hard to one side and her knees drawn halfway up while one long leg tries to kick free โ€” she is caught in the same half second as her run, her body still carrying the forward momentum of a sprint that has already collapsed into a fall. Her silver-gloved arm reaches up and back over her head, the fingers spread and straining toward the tall ceiling, and the other arm is pinned across her chest. Her mature face is turned along the catwalk in profile, her blue eyes wide and wet behind the silver glasses that sit slightly crooked on the bridge of her nose, tears sliding sideways from the outer corner of her eye into the loose strands of her black hair; her mouth is pulled open in a sob and one brow knotted as she stares up past the cannons. Black slime blobs come down the walls and up through the gaps in the walkway on every side of her. They swarm her back in one glossy mass, wedging under her shoulder blade and hooking around her waist to peel her arched spine farther off the floor; they wrap her reaching arm from wrist to elbow and drag it back; they coil around both silver-booted legs in rings and clamp her ankle down. A small blob clings to her cheek just under the rim of her glasses, drawn thin and webbed where her face moves against it. There are far too many to count โ€” some the size of fists, some the size of her torso, all the same deep lacquered black with wet highlights. About half her body disappears beneath an uneven blanket of them, and a larger one is already climbing over her jaw and closing across her cheek and chin, spreading over her mouth and up over her nose. She has given up: the flicker of struggle in her hand is the last flicker, and the rest of her has gone limp on the floor. The hallway is a long vaulted run of white stone with a high polished catwalk down its center, and both interior walls are set with a regular grid of a hundred cannon barrels, every muzzle aimed inward and down toward the spot where she has fallen. Their metal shapes are silhouetted dark against the pale walls. The room is lit from above โ€” a single broad shaft of soft white light from high in the vault falls straight down and catches the top edges of the cannons and the walkway; the undersides of her body, her bent knees and the inside of the corridor floor fall into gentle gray shadow. Her reflection stretches long and distorted in the wet polish under her, darker and softer than she is. The palette is silver, white, and black โ€” silver suit, gloves and boots with clean specular sweep across their curves, white walls, and everything else rendered in glossy black slime โ€” with only her blue eyes and the faint warmth of her cheeks lifting out of the cold scheme, all polished and airbrushed in a mature anime style with soft smooth gradients and almost invisible brushwork. Desperate defeat.
ใ—ใ‚“ใ‚‰ใ
AI artwork
ใ—
side view, full body, solo, mature female, black hair, long hair, blue eyes, silver glasses, huge breasts, huge hips, silver bodysuit, silver gloves, silver boots, lying on floor, on back, running, reaching upward, defeated, sad, crying, tears, grimace, surrender, black slime blobs, covered in slime, black slime on face, black slime on cheek, black slime on arms, black slime on legs, black slime on back, surrounded by blobs, many blobs, restrained by blobs, shiny skin, sweat, wet clothes, trembling, clenched teeth, looking up, catwalk, big white hallway, 100 wall cannons, wide shot, from side, dutch angle, high detail, cinematic lighting The camera sits low and level with the catwalk itself, a true side view of a single woman stretched on the floor of the corridor, the frame running the full length of her body from her silver boots at the lower left to her long black hair fanned loose across the polished walkway at the upper right. She lies on her back, her spine arched up off the floor and her hip and shoulder blades the only points of contact, her huge hips shifting her weight hard to one side and her knees drawn halfway up while one long leg tries to kick free โ€” she is caught in the same half second as her run, her body still carrying the forward momentum of a sprint that has already collapsed into a fall. Her silver-gloved arm reaches up and back over her head, the fingers spread and straining toward the tall ceiling, and the other arm is pinned across her chest. Her mature face is turned along the catwalk in profile, her blue eyes wide and wet behind the silver glasses that sit slightly crooked on the bridge of her nose, tears sliding sideways from the outer corner of her eye into the loose strands of her black hair; her mouth is pulled open in a sob and one brow knotted as she stares up past the cannons. Black slime blobs come down the walls and up through the gaps in the walkway on every side of her. They swarm her back in one glossy mass, wedging under her shoulder blade and hooking around her waist to peel her arched spine farther off the floor; they wrap her reaching arm from wrist to elbow and drag it back; they coil around both silver-booted legs in rings and clamp her ankle down. A small blob clings to her cheek just under the rim of her glasses, drawn thin and webbed where her face moves against it. There are far too many to count โ€” some the size of fists, some the size of her torso, all the same deep lacquered black with wet highlights. About half her body disappears beneath an uneven blanket of them, and a larger one is already climbing over her jaw and closing across her cheek and chin, spreading over her mouth and up over her nose. She has given up: the flicker of struggle in her hand is the last flicker, and the rest of her has gone limp on the floor. The hallway is a long vaulted run of white stone with a high polished catwalk down its center, and both interior walls are set with a regular grid of a hundred cannon barrels, every muzzle aimed inward and down toward the spot where she has fallen. Their metal shapes are silhouetted dark against the pale walls. The room is lit from above โ€” a single broad shaft of soft white light from high in the vault falls straight down and catches the top edges of the cannons and the walkway; the undersides of her body, her bent knees and the inside of the corridor floor fall into gentle gray shadow. Her reflection stretches long and distorted in the wet polish under her, darker and softer than she is. The palette is silver, white, and black โ€” silver suit, gloves and boots with clean specular sweep across their curves, white walls, and everything else rendered in glossy black slime โ€” with only her blue eyes and the faint warmth of her cheeks lifting out of the cold scheme, all polished and airbrushed in a mature anime style with soft smooth gradients and almost invisible brushwork. Desperate defeat.
ใ—ใ‚“ใ‚‰ใ
#Bodysuit
AI artwork
ใ—
side view, full body, solo, mature female, black hair, long hair, blue eyes, silver glasses, huge breasts, huge hips, silver bodysuit, silver gloves, silver boots, lying on floor, on back, running, reaching upward, defeated, sad, crying, tears, grimace, surrender, black slime blobs, covered in slime, black slime on face, black slime on cheek, black slime on arms, black slime on legs, black slime on back, surrounded by blobs, many blobs, restrained by blobs, shiny skin, sweat, wet clothes, trembling, clenched teeth, looking up, catwalk, big white hallway, 100 wall cannons, wide shot, from side, dutch angle, high detail, cinematic lighting The camera sits low and level with the catwalk itself, a true side view of a single woman stretched on the floor of the corridor, the frame running the full length of her body from her silver boots at the lower left to her long black hair fanned loose across the polished walkway at the upper right. She lies on her back, her spine arched up off the floor and her hip and shoulder blades the only points of contact, her huge hips shifting her weight hard to one side and her knees drawn halfway up while one long leg tries to kick free โ€” she is caught in the same half second as her run, her body still carrying the forward momentum of a sprint that has already collapsed into a fall. Her silver-gloved arm reaches up and back over her head, the fingers spread and straining toward the tall ceiling, and the other arm is pinned across her chest. Her mature face is turned along the catwalk in profile, her blue eyes wide and wet behind the silver glasses that sit slightly crooked on the bridge of her nose, tears sliding sideways from the outer corner of her eye into the loose strands of her black hair; her mouth is pulled open in a sob and one brow knotted as she stares up past the cannons. Black slime blobs come down the walls and up through the gaps in the walkway on every side of her. They swarm her back in one glossy mass, wedging under her shoulder blade and hooking around her waist to peel her arched spine farther off the floor; they wrap her reaching arm from wrist to elbow and drag it back; they coil around both silver-booted legs in rings and clamp her ankle down. A small blob clings to her cheek just under the rim of her glasses, drawn thin and webbed where her face moves against it. There are far too many to count โ€” some the size of fists, some the size of her torso, all the same deep lacquered black with wet highlights. About half her body disappears beneath an uneven blanket of them, and a larger one is already climbing over her jaw and closing across her cheek and chin, spreading over her mouth and up over her nose. She has given up: the flicker of struggle in her hand is the last flicker, and the rest of her has gone limp on the floor. The hallway is a long vaulted run of white stone with a high polished catwalk down its center, and both interior walls are set with a regular grid of a hundred cannon barrels, every muzzle aimed inward and down toward the spot where she has fallen. Their metal shapes are silhouetted dark against the pale walls. The room is lit from above โ€” a single broad shaft of soft white light from high in the vault falls straight down and catches the top edges of the cannons and the walkway; the undersides of her body, her bent knees and the inside of the corridor floor fall into gentle gray shadow. Her reflection stretches long and distorted in the wet polish under her, darker and softer than she is. The palette is silver, white, and black โ€” silver suit, gloves and boots with clean specular sweep across their curves, white walls, and everything else rendered in glossy black slime โ€” with only her blue eyes and the faint warmth of her cheeks lifting out of the cold scheme, all polished and airbrushed in a mature anime style with soft smooth gradients and almost invisible brushwork. Desperate defeat.
ใ—ใ‚“ใ‚‰ใ
#Bodysuit
AI artwork
ใ—
mature female, 1girl, solo, silver glasses, black hair, long hair, blue eyes, huge breasts, huge hips, silver bodysuit, silver gloves, silver boots, full body, running, surrounded, exhausted, defeated, attacked from every direction, black blob balls, blob balls on body, blob ball on cheek, blob balls on arm, blob balls on leg, blob balls covering half her body, cannons in wall, big white hallway, cowboy shot, from below, dutch angle, motion blur on hair, glossy texture, cinematic lighting Shot from a low dutch angle tilted off the vertical, the whole white hallway reels around her as she sprints toward the camera at an oblique angle, one long silver boot planted mid-stride and the other kicked back behind her, full body in frame from the crown of her black hair to the soles of her boots. She is a mature, curvy woman, huge hips and huge breasts straining the silver bodysuit that sheathes her like liquid chrome, silver gloves gripping her own thigh as she runs. A heavy black blob ball impacts square on her cheek and splashes over her jaw; more blob balls slam her back, her arm, her leg, and a thick mass of black slime clings to and covers half her body in wet, glossy sheets. Dozens of black blobs swarm from every direction, sealing every exit. Along both walls a row of wall-mounted cannons aim inward, muzzles glowing hot white. The exhausted defeated look in her blue eyes behind her silver glasses โ€” lashes heavy, lips parted, a smear of black slime on her chin โ€” gives the scene its desperate tone.
ใ—ใ‚“ใ‚‰ใ
#Bodysuit

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Pengguna Disyorkan

Anda Mungkin Suka

AI artwork
Avatar image of ใƒชใ‚ช
character: kaname_madoka_(magical_girl), copyright: mahou_shoujo_madoka_magica Kaname Madoka from Puella Magi Madoka Magica, pink twin tails tied with deep red ribbons, wearing her iconic magical girl costume, white corset-like bodice with delicate back lacing, voluminous layered white and pale pink ruffled skirt, crimson ribbons flowing loosely around her body, viewed from behind at a three-quarter angle, seated with her back gracefully arched, both arms extending naturally downward behind her back, one hand gently holding the opposite wrist, clearly separated hands, relaxed slender fingers, five distinct fingers on each hand, natural finger spacing, anatomically correct wrists, elegant delicate hands, visible knuckles, softly curved fingers, hands clearly visible against the white skirt, unobstructed hand silhouette, accurate hand anatomy, head tilted far backward, chin raised toward the darkness, face mostly hidden, elegant elongated silhouette, delicate exposed shoulders, soft loose strands of pink hair, dramatic asymmetrical composition, close medium shot, large skirt filling the lower frame, dark almost black background, dramatic directional lighting, pale ivory highlights, muted dusty pink, cold gray shadows, rich crimson accents, strong contrast between luminous fabric and deep darkness, thick impasto oil painting, expressive visible brushstrokes, heavy layered paint, rough palette knife texture, sculptural paint strokes, painterly edges, textured canvas, loose gestural painting, rich tactile surface, dramatic chiaroscuro, melancholic atmosphere, haunting beauty, full bleed composition, edge-to-edge artwork, no borders, no frame, textured illustration, grainy texture, crayon texture, chalky brushwork, impasto strokes, bold color blocking, stylized anime, flat shading, dry brush effect, atmospheric lighting, soft glow highlights, rough painterly anime style, visible textured brushstrokes, heavy impasto texture, scratchy charcoal-like linework, expressive gestural strokes, smudged edges, desaturated base tones with aggressive high-contrast color, sketch style, rough brushstroke
ใƒชใ‚ช
4#Puella Magi Madoka Magica#Madoka Kaname#Puella Magi Madoka Magica
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