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AI artwork featuring #zetaCollab
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じゅうばんめ

Contest Entry
PixAI × zeta Original Character Creation Contest 2026 #zetaCollab
じ

じゅうばんめ

Додатково див.

Коментарі

character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male) 2girls, 1boy, 2people, hug, mutual hug, close embrace, embarrassed, flustered, blushing, gazing at each other, eye contact, looking at another, inside locker, locker door closed, cutaway, cross-section view, focus on faces, close-up, from side, cramped, confined space, long hair, purple hair, very long hair, red eyes, short hair, black hair, hair over one eye, blue eyes, black gloves, long sleeves, jacket, grin, open mouth, half-closed eyes, raised eyebrow, sweatdrop A cutaway view from the side, the near wall of the metal locker sliced away so the lens looks straight into its narrow interior: two people packed into the tall steel box, the door shut flush behind them. The locker's inner walls press close on every side -- a shelf edge above their heads, a coat hook at shoulder height, a vent grille of horizontal slots on the back panel, the seam of the closed door running down the far side with its handle and latch catching a sliver of light. The camera sits at chest height and close, so the faces dominate the frame and the steel walls frame them in a tight vertical slot. Scathach is pushed against the back panel, her very long purple hair crushed flat against the steel and spilling down over the shelf edge, one long strand caught on the coat hook; she is the taller of the two, so she has to stoop, one shoulder braced against the corner, her weight on her back foot with the front foot lifted slightly off the locker floor. Both her arms are locked around his shoulders, forearms crossed behind his neck, red eyes wide and fixed on his face, brows drawn up, lips parted around a caught breath, a hot blush spread across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. The closed door's metal edge cuts across her elbow. Ritsuka is pressed chest-to-chest with her, his back to the door, black-gloved hands gripping the back of her waist and the fabric of her side, his short black hair mussed against the door's inner panel, the strand falling over one eye pushed aside by the closeness rather than by his hand; his blue eyes are turned up to hers, chin lifted, mouth open in a flustered half-grimace, cheeks flushed deep, one eyebrow hitched higher than the other, a bead of sweat at his temple. Their foreheads almost touch; their gazes are locked, each reacting to the other's flustered face at a distance of a few centimetres. The two bodies fill the locker so completely that the steel bows their clothing and compresses the space between them -- her long sleeves bunched at the elbows as her arms wrap, his jacket rucked up where his shoulder meets the door, the fabric of both pressed flat where it touches metal. The only light is a thin blade of corridor light entering through the door's vent slots and the gap under the door: it strikes the back of her hair, the rim of his cheek and the inner edge of the door, leaving the locker's depths in close, warm shadow, and the two faces are lit by a soft bounce off the pale steel walls. Palette: cold grey-blue steel, her violet hair and crimson eyes, the warm flush of two faces, nothing else admitted. Quiet, breathless, cramped intimacy.
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Оригінальний промпт
fate_スカサハ、fate_藤丸立香(男)、抱き合っている、恥ずかしがっている、見つめ合っている、焦っている、ロッカーの中に二人が入っている、ロッカーの扉が閉じている、カットアウェイ、顔にフォーカス
Режим
pro
Тег якості
﹝Prompts﹞
Розмір
768 x 1280
Метод семплінгу
Euler
Негативні
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
Помічник запитів

Використано Модель та LoRA

Tsubaki.3 - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
6.21k

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AI artwork
じ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male) 2girls, 1boy, 2people, hug, mutual hug, close embrace, embarrassed, flustered, blushing, gazing at each other, eye contact, looking at another, inside locker, locker door closed, cutaway, cross-section view, focus on faces, close-up, from side, cramped, confined space, long hair, purple hair, very long hair, red eyes, short hair, black hair, hair over one eye, blue eyes, black gloves, long sleeves, jacket, grin, open mouth, half-closed eyes, raised eyebrow, sweatdrop A cutaway view from the side, the near wall of the metal locker sliced away so the lens looks straight into its narrow interior: two people packed into the tall steel box, the door shut flush behind them. The locker's inner walls press close on every side -- a shelf edge above their heads, a coat hook at shoulder height, a vent grille of horizontal slots on the back panel, the seam of the closed door running down the far side with its handle and latch catching a sliver of light. The camera sits at chest height and close, so the faces dominate the frame and the steel walls frame them in a tight vertical slot. Scathach is pushed against the back panel, her very long purple hair crushed flat against the steel and spilling down over the shelf edge, one long strand caught on the coat hook; she is the taller of the two, so she has to stoop, one shoulder braced against the corner, her weight on her back foot with the front foot lifted slightly off the locker floor. Both her arms are locked around his shoulders, forearms crossed behind his neck, red eyes wide and fixed on his face, brows drawn up, lips parted around a caught breath, a hot blush spread across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. The closed door's metal edge cuts across her elbow. Ritsuka is pressed chest-to-chest with her, his back to the door, black-gloved hands gripping the back of her waist and the fabric of her side, his short black hair mussed against the door's inner panel, the strand falling over one eye pushed aside by the closeness rather than by his hand; his blue eyes are turned up to hers, chin lifted, mouth open in a flustered half-grimace, cheeks flushed deep, one eyebrow hitched higher than the other, a bead of sweat at his temple. Their foreheads almost touch; their gazes are locked, each reacting to the other's flustered face at a distance of a few centimetres. The two bodies fill the locker so completely that the steel bows their clothing and compresses the space between them -- her long sleeves bunched at the elbows as her arms wrap, his jacket rucked up where his shoulder meets the door, the fabric of both pressed flat where it touches metal. The only light is a thin blade of corridor light entering through the door's vent slots and the gap under the door: it strikes the back of her hair, the rim of his cheek and the inner edge of the door, leaving the locker's depths in close, warm shadow, and the two faces are lit by a soft bounce off the pale steel walls. Palette: cold grey-blue steel, her violet hair and crimson eyes, the warm flush of two faces, nothing else admitted. Quiet, breathless, cramped intimacy.
じゅうばんめ
#zetaCollab
AI artwork
じ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male) 2girls, 1boy, 2people, hug, mutual hug, close embrace, embarrassed, flustered, blushing, gazing at each other, eye contact, looking at another, inside locker, locker door closed, cutaway, cross-section view, focus on faces, close-up, from side, cramped, confined space, long hair, purple hair, very long hair, red eyes, short hair, black hair, hair over one eye, blue eyes, black gloves, long sleeves, jacket, grin, open mouth, half-closed eyes, raised eyebrow, sweatdrop A cutaway view from the side, the near wall of the metal locker sliced away so the lens looks straight into its narrow interior: two people packed into the tall steel box, the door shut flush behind them. The locker's inner walls press close on every side -- a shelf edge above their heads, a coat hook at shoulder height, a vent grille of horizontal slots on the back panel, the seam of the closed door running down the far side with its handle and latch catching a sliver of light. The camera sits at chest height and close, so the faces dominate the frame and the steel walls frame them in a tight vertical slot. Scathach is pushed against the back panel, her very long purple hair crushed flat against the steel and spilling down over the shelf edge, one long strand caught on the coat hook; she is the taller of the two, so she has to stoop, one shoulder braced against the corner, her weight on her back foot with the front foot lifted slightly off the locker floor. Both her arms are locked around his shoulders, forearms crossed behind his neck, red eyes wide and fixed on his face, brows drawn up, lips parted around a caught breath, a hot blush spread across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. The closed door's metal edge cuts across her elbow. Ritsuka is pressed chest-to-chest with her, his back to the door, black-gloved hands gripping the back of her waist and the fabric of her side, his short black hair mussed against the door's inner panel, the strand falling over one eye pushed aside by the closeness rather than by his hand; his blue eyes are turned up to hers, chin lifted, mouth open in a flustered half-grimace, cheeks flushed deep, one eyebrow hitched higher than the other, a bead of sweat at his temple. Their foreheads almost touch; their gazes are locked, each reacting to the other's flustered face at a distance of a few centimetres. The two bodies fill the locker so completely that the steel bows their clothing and compresses the space between them -- her long sleeves bunched at the elbows as her arms wrap, his jacket rucked up where his shoulder meets the door, the fabric of both pressed flat where it touches metal. The only light is a thin blade of corridor light entering through the door's vent slots and the gap under the door: it strikes the back of her hair, the rim of his cheek and the inner edge of the door, leaving the locker's depths in close, warm shadow, and the two faces are lit by a soft bounce off the pale steel walls. Palette: cold grey-blue steel, her violet hair and crimson eyes, the warm flush of two faces, nothing else admitted. Quiet, breathless, cramped intimacy.
じゅうばんめ
#zetaCollab
AI artwork
じ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male) 2girls, 1boy, 2people, hug, mutual hug, close embrace, embarrassed, flustered, blushing, gazing at each other, eye contact, looking at another, inside locker, locker door closed, cutaway, cross-section view, focus on faces, close-up, from side, cramped, confined space, long hair, purple hair, very long hair, red eyes, short hair, black hair, hair over one eye, blue eyes, black gloves, long sleeves, jacket, grin, open mouth, half-closed eyes, raised eyebrow, sweatdrop A cutaway view from the side, the near wall of the metal locker sliced away so the lens looks straight into its narrow interior: two people packed into the tall steel box, the door shut flush behind them. The locker's inner walls press close on every side -- a shelf edge above their heads, a coat hook at shoulder height, a vent grille of horizontal slots on the back panel, the seam of the closed door running down the far side with its handle and latch catching a sliver of light. The camera sits at chest height and close, so the faces dominate the frame and the steel walls frame them in a tight vertical slot. Scathach is pushed against the back panel, her very long purple hair crushed flat against the steel and spilling down over the shelf edge, one long strand caught on the coat hook; she is the taller of the two, so she has to stoop, one shoulder braced against the corner, her weight on her back foot with the front foot lifted slightly off the locker floor. Both her arms are locked around his shoulders, forearms crossed behind his neck, red eyes wide and fixed on his face, brows drawn up, lips parted around a caught breath, a hot blush spread across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. The closed door's metal edge cuts across her elbow. Ritsuka is pressed chest-to-chest with her, his back to the door, black-gloved hands gripping the back of her waist and the fabric of her side, his short black hair mussed against the door's inner panel, the strand falling over one eye pushed aside by the closeness rather than by his hand; his blue eyes are turned up to hers, chin lifted, mouth open in a flustered half-grimace, cheeks flushed deep, one eyebrow hitched higher than the other, a bead of sweat at his temple. Their foreheads almost touch; their gazes are locked, each reacting to the other's flustered face at a distance of a few centimetres. The two bodies fill the locker so completely that the steel bows their clothing and compresses the space between them -- her long sleeves bunched at the elbows as her arms wrap, his jacket rucked up where his shoulder meets the door, the fabric of both pressed flat where it touches metal. The only light is a thin blade of corridor light entering through the door's vent slots and the gap under the door: it strikes the back of her hair, the rim of his cheek and the inner edge of the door, leaving the locker's depths in close, warm shadow, and the two faces are lit by a soft bounce off the pale steel walls. Palette: cold grey-blue steel, her violet hair and crimson eyes, the warm flush of two faces, nothing else admitted. Quiet, breathless, cramped intimacy.
じゅうばんめ
#zetaCollab
AI artwork
じ
character: scathach_(fate), fujimaru_ritsuka_(male) two characters, 2girls? no, 1girl and 1boy, scathach and male protagonist, long purple hair, very long hair, red eyes, skintight bodysuit, short black hair, hair ribbon, blue eyes, black gloves, long sleeves, hugging, mutual embrace, arms around each other, blush, full-face blush, embarrassed, flustered, sweatdrop, flustered expression, wide-eyed, inside locker, confined space, locker door closed, closed metal locker door, cutaway view, cutaway, interior view, cramped, from side, dutch angle, close quarters, shoulder-to-shoulder, standing, leaning together, tense shoulders, looking at each other, no empty space, dusk light through vents The shot is a cutaway: the metal locker's front wall, closed and latched, is sliced away at the picture plane so we see straight into the tall narrow steel interior, its sides, back panel and bottom sill enclosing the two figures. Both are crammed upright inside it, chest to chest and shoulder to shoulder, the man's back pressed to the rear panel and her spine curved against the door side, her arms locked around his shoulders and his arms wrapped around her waist, her knee bent and wedged beside his hip, both her boots braced on the sill. Her long purple hair spills over his forearms and pools and tangles against the back panel; the loose strands of his black hair, ribbon and all, are flattened against her cheek and the locker's ribs. They are too close for anything but a whisper-thin gap: every breath lifts her chest against his coat and his chin presses the top of her head, and both stare at each other wide-eyed, his gaze fixed down at her face, hers angled sharp up to his, pupils small, a bead of sweat rolling from his temple and another at her jaw, mouths open as if caught mid-word, ears and cheeks burning dark red. Crisp white comic emphasis lines flick off both their shoulders and off the rim of the sliced-open locker mouth in short radiating strokes. A thin seam of cool grey light leaks in through the louvered vent slots high on the closed door beside them, laying pale horizontal stripes across her hair and his shoulder while the rest of the locked interior falls to deep shadow; the metal reads scratched and cold, its interior walls matte, its floor scuffed. Steel grey and black for the locker interior, purple and crimson for her, navy and white for his collar against it, the only warm colour the red flush of both faces. Claustrophobic, flustered comedy.
じゅうばんめ
#zetaCollab#Серія Fate#Fate/Grand Order

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