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Iroha and Yachiyo's secret (ft. Ui)
Arte de IA "Iroha and Yachiyo's secret (ft. Ui)" de DiabolicTomoe no PixAI. Tags: Iroha Tamaki, Yachiyo Nanami, Puella Magi Madoka Magica. Criado com Mio Brush.
Mostrar Parâmetros
- Entrada de Instrução Original
- Iroha Tamaki and Yachiyo Nanami kissing secretly inside a dark wooden wardrobe, Ui Tamaki peeking into the wardrobe with a surprised expression, highly detailed, dramatic lighting, romantic atmosphere, (Magia Record)
- Tag de Qualidade
- high quality, masterpiece, year_2025, year_2024, sfw, ﹝Instruções﹞
- Tamanho
- 768 x 1280
- Passos de Amostragem
- 28
- Método de Amostragem
- Euler
- CFG scale
- 5
- Negativo
- worst quality, bad quality, low quality, distortion, jpeg artifacts, lowres, bad anatomy, bad composition, bad hands, bad fingers, error, missing fingers, extra digit, fewer digits, cropped, artist name, copyright name, text, signature, watermark, nsfw, nude, nudity, light particles, multiple_views
Modelo & LoRA usado
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character: fujimaru_ritsuka_(male), scathach-skadi_(second_ascension)_(fate)
two people, 1girl, 1boy, embracing, hug, mutual hug, arms around waist, arms around neck, both blushing, full-face blush, embarrassed, shy, looking at each other, eye contact, gazing into each other's eyes, inside locker, locker door closed, translucent locker door, frosted metal panel, slightly see-through door, close-up, focus on faces, face focus, male and female nearly the same height, height difference minimal, forehead level with forehead, tight interior, cramped space, black hair, short hair with long strands, hair ribbon, hair over one eye, blue eyes, long hair, pink hair, very long hair, pink eyes, sidelocks, bangs, black jacket, long sleeves, black gloves, school uniform, black ribbon at chest, purple bodysuit, armored bodice, gold trim, dark thighhighs, from inside locker, slight dutch angle, leaning forward
The camera sits inside the locker with them, tilted a few degrees off level, framing both faces in close-up from the collarbones up so that the two heads fill the middle of the frame at the same eye level -- they are almost exactly the same height, brow to brow, her chin grazing his jaw. On the right, the young man with short black hair and one long strand falling over his left eye, the thin ribbon tied in his hair, blue eyes wide and fixed on her; on the left, the tall woman with very long pink hair spilling down over her armored shoulders, sidelocks framing her cheeks, pink eyes locked on his. Her arms are wrapped around his back, her gloved-free hands flat against his shoulder blades through his black jacket; his black-gloved hands grip the small of her back at the waist over the purple bodysuit, fingers pressing the fabric into shallow creases. Heat rises between them: both faces flushed from cheekbones to ear tips in a deep even red, her lips parted a half-breath, his jaw slightly slack, neither able to look away, both fighting a smile that keeps losing.
The locker is closed around them -- a narrow steel box, her back and his shoulder pressed to the cold inner walls, the door just behind the lens. That door is faintly translucent: a frosted, slightly see-through metal panel through which the blurred everyday shapes of the corridor bleed in as soft grey-green smudges, so the two lit faces read as the only sharp thing, glowing against the dimness. A single thin seam of corridor light leaks through the door's louvre slats above them and rakes down across their foreheads and noses, catching the sheen of sweat at their hairlines and leaving the space between their bodies dark. Condensation has beaded on the inner metal, and where their breath meets the cold steel it fogs in two small clouds that slowly spread and shrink. Palette held to cold steel grey and green corridor murk against the warm skin flush and the pink of her hair, nothing else admitted. Tender, flustered.
じゅうばんめ
じ
character: fujimaru_ritsuka_(male), scathach-skadi_(second_ascension)_(fate)
two people, 1girl, 1boy, embracing, hug, mutual hug, arms around waist, arms around neck, both blushing, full-face blush, embarrassed, shy, looking at each other, eye contact, gazing into each other's eyes, inside locker, locker door closed, translucent locker door, frosted metal panel, slightly see-through door, close-up, focus on faces, face focus, male and female nearly the same height, height difference minimal, forehead level with forehead, tight interior, cramped space, black hair, short hair with long strands, hair ribbon, hair over one eye, blue eyes, long hair, pink hair, very long hair, pink eyes, sidelocks, bangs, black jacket, long sleeves, black gloves, school uniform, black ribbon at chest, purple bodysuit, armored bodice, gold trim, dark thighhighs, from inside locker, slight dutch angle, leaning forward
The camera sits inside the locker with them, tilted a few degrees off level, framing both faces in close-up from the collarbones up so that the two heads fill the middle of the frame at the same eye level -- they are almost exactly the same height, brow to brow, her chin grazing his jaw. On the right, the young man with short black hair and one long strand falling over his left eye, the thin ribbon tied in his hair, blue eyes wide and fixed on her; on the left, the tall woman with very long pink hair spilling down over her armored shoulders, sidelocks framing her cheeks, pink eyes locked on his. Her arms are wrapped around his back, her gloved-free hands flat against his shoulder blades through his black jacket; his black-gloved hands grip the small of her back at the waist over the purple bodysuit, fingers pressing the fabric into shallow creases. Heat rises between them: both faces flushed from cheekbones to ear tips in a deep even red, her lips parted a half-breath, his jaw slightly slack, neither able to look away, both fighting a smile that keeps losing.
The locker is closed around them -- a narrow steel box, her back and his shoulder pressed to the cold inner walls, the door just behind the lens. That door is faintly translucent: a frosted, slightly see-through metal panel through which the blurred everyday shapes of the corridor bleed in as soft grey-green smudges, so the two lit faces read as the only sharp thing, glowing against the dimness. A single thin seam of corridor light leaks through the door's louvre slats above them and rakes down across their foreheads and noses, catching the sheen of sweat at their hairlines and leaving the space between their bodies dark. Condensation has beaded on the inner metal, and where their breath meets the cold steel it fogs in two small clouds that slowly spread and shrink. Palette held to cold steel grey and green corridor murk against the warm skin flush and the pink of her hair, nothing else admitted. Tender, flustered.
じゅうばんめ
じ
character: fujimaru_ritsuka_(male), scathach-skadi_(second_ascension)_(fate)
two people, 1girl, 1boy, embracing, hug, mutual hug, arms around waist, arms around neck, both blushing, full-face blush, embarrassed, shy, looking at each other, eye contact, gazing into each other's eyes, inside locker, locker door closed, translucent locker door, frosted metal panel, slightly see-through door, close-up, focus on faces, face focus, male and female nearly the same height, height difference minimal, forehead level with forehead, tight interior, cramped space, black hair, short hair with long strands, hair ribbon, hair over one eye, blue eyes, long hair, pink hair, very long hair, pink eyes, sidelocks, bangs, black jacket, long sleeves, black gloves, school uniform, black ribbon at chest, purple bodysuit, armored bodice, gold trim, dark thighhighs, from inside locker, slight dutch angle, leaning forward
The camera sits inside the locker with them, tilted a few degrees off level, framing both faces in close-up from the collarbones up so that the two heads fill the middle of the frame at the same eye level -- they are almost exactly the same height, brow to brow, her chin grazing his jaw. On the right, the young man with short black hair and one long strand falling over his left eye, the thin ribbon tied in his hair, blue eyes wide and fixed on her; on the left, the tall woman with very long pink hair spilling down over her armored shoulders, sidelocks framing her cheeks, pink eyes locked on his. Her arms are wrapped around his back, her gloved-free hands flat against his shoulder blades through his black jacket; his black-gloved hands grip the small of her back at the waist over the purple bodysuit, fingers pressing the fabric into shallow creases. Heat rises between them: both faces flushed from cheekbones to ear tips in a deep even red, her lips parted a half-breath, his jaw slightly slack, neither able to look away, both fighting a smile that keeps losing.
The locker is closed around them -- a narrow steel box, her back and his shoulder pressed to the cold inner walls, the door just behind the lens. That door is faintly translucent: a frosted, slightly see-through metal panel through which the blurred everyday shapes of the corridor bleed in as soft grey-green smudges, so the two lit faces read as the only sharp thing, glowing against the dimness. A single thin seam of corridor light leaks through the door's louvre slats above them and rakes down across their foreheads and noses, catching the sheen of sweat at their hairlines and leaving the space between their bodies dark. Condensation has beaded on the inner metal, and where their breath meets the cold steel it fogs in two small clouds that slowly spread and shrink. Palette held to cold steel grey and green corridor murk against the warm skin flush and the pink of her hair, nothing else admitted. Tender, flustered.
じゅうばんめ
k0
kuroneko0580#0
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