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AI art "路地裏の夜・妖刀を持つ女"
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路地裏の夜・妖刀を持つ女

路地裏の夜・妖刀を持つ女 AI art by うたひろ on PixAI. Tags: Open Clothes, Skirt, Red eyes, Boots, long hair, Knee boots. Made with Tsubaki.3.

夜の路地裏に佇む、妖刀を手にした彼女のクールな姿を描いてみました。白黒のツートンヘアに赤い瞳がとても印象的で、このミステリアスな雰囲気に私自身も惹かれています。気に入っていただけたら、いいねやフォローをお願いします！コメントでの感想もお待ちしていますね。

#Miniskirt#Open Clothes#Skirt#Red eyes#Boots#long hair#Knee boots#Black hair#Multicolored hair#Hime cut#Japanese sword#Jacket#Blunt Bangs#Standing on one leg#Night#Shirt#Leather#Girl#Alley#Lamppost#Pencil Skirt#Leather Jacket
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うたひろ

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1girl, solo, adult woman, 20s, hime cut, long hair, black and white hair, two-tone hair, black hair with white streaks, straight blunt bangs, sharp eyes, tsurime, golden eyes, yellow eyes, red eyeshadow, makeup, tall, slender, long legs, long arms, white tank top, cropped black leather jacket, short jacket, black leather miniskirt, black leather boots, knee-high boots, long boots, zettai ryouiki, standing on one leg, one leg raised, knee lifted, leaning on katana, katana, japanese sword, holding sword, right hand on sword, hand resting on pommel, arms at sides, head tilt, looking at viewer, half-closed eyes, light smirk, from below, low angle, cowboy shot, dutch angle, industrial alley at night, wet asphalt, chain-link fence, neon reflections, full body visible, single light source, Low-angle three-quarter view from below and slightly to her right, the camera tilted a few degrees off vertical, framing her from boot soles to the top of her bangs. She stands on her left leg alone, that boot planted flat and bearing all her weight, ankle locked, calf taut; the right knee is lifted high and cocked outward, the raised boot hanging free with the toe pointed down, its shaft creasing at the ankle. Her right arm hangs straight and loose, the palm and fingers draped flat over the pommel of a long katana whose tip rests on the wet ground beside her left boot, so the blade stands as a slanted crutch and the leather of her sleeve bunches at the wrist; the sword carries a fraction of her lean, tilting with her. Her left arm falls behind her hip, thumb hooked at the waistband of the miniskirt, pulling the leather taut across one hipbone. Her spine curves a little toward the sword side, shoulder dropped, chin tipped down but her gaze lifted under the brow straight into the lens, one eyelid lower than the other, mouth pulled to one side in a half-lidded smirk, a single sharp canine catching light. The red eyeshadow sits as a warm smudge at the outer corners of both eyes. Hair: long hime-cut hair in two colours — deep black through the crown and the blunt fringe, with white growing out of the side locks and the underlayer, so the sidelocks that fall past her jaw and the length down her back carry pale silver-white while the top stays black; the lifted knee's motion has thrown one sidelock across her cheek and the long ends swing slightly behind her shoulders. The white ribbed tank top stretches over her narrow chest and is tucked flat into the black leather miniskirt; the cropped black leather jacket hangs open, its collar standing and its hem ending above the waist so a strip of white shows at the midriff. The miniskirt is stiff black leather, riding up at the raised thigh and sitting snug at the standing hip. The knee-high boots are polished black leather climbing to just under the knee, the raised one showing the crease of the ankle and the standing one splashed dark at the toe. Environment: a narrow industrial alley at night, wet asphalt in the foreground mirroring the light, a chain-link fence receding on the right, low concrete curb and drain grating along the left, the far end falling into black. A single hard white light source sits high behind her right shoulder — a caged work lamp — so her face is lit from above and slightly behind, the tops of her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, the fringe and the white sidelocks blazing, while the undersides of her jaw, the hollow of her throat and the inner faces of both boots stay deep in shadow; a long sharp cast shadow of her body, the raised leg and the sword runs forward toward the lens across the wet ground. Where the katana's tip touches, the puddle breaks into a ring of fine ripples and the blade's polished face carries one thin vertical highlight. Palette restricted to black leather, white tank and white hair, warm gold in the irises, one red note at the eyeshadow, and cold blue-white in the wet reflections — nothing else admitted. The lifted knee and the leaning sword form a single triangle that reads as casual and dangerous at once. effortlessly cool, quietly lethal.
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Original Prompt
20代女性一人.黒髪と白髪が混じる、姫カットロング、切れ長の目、金色の瞳、赤いアイシャドウ、手足長い、スレンダー体型、白いタンクトップ、黒革のショートジャケット、黒革のショートスカート、黒革のロングブーツ、片足を作る、右手に持つ日本刀に寄りかかる
Mode
pro
Quality Tag
﹝Prompts﹞
Size
1104 x 1824
Negative
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit, (nsfw:1.2),(nude:1.6),(nipple:1.2),naked
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Model & LoRA used

Tsubaki.3 - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
7.63k

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copyright: kara_no_kyoukai 1girl, solo, black hair, semi-short hair, blue eyes, mystic eyes, glowing eyes, expressionless, blank stare, large breasts, slender waist, leather jacket, black leather jacket, open jacket, white turtleneck, shorts, black shorts, belt, black tights, pantyhose, boots, black boots, katana, holding sword, holding katana, sheath, night, city, cityscape, simple background, building, outdoors, cowboy shot, from below, dutch angle, looking at viewer, standing, contrapposto, leather, turtleneck, serious, cold, moon, moonlight, rim light, blue glow, dark palette, anime style, high quality From a low three-quarter angle tilted slightly off-level, a single young woman stands alone on an empty night street, framed in a cowboy shot from mid-thigh to above the head so that the simple slab-like city buildings behind her stay faceless and secondary to her. She has black semi-short hair with a sharp, slightly uneven cut that frames her jaw, and the short blunt ends float a little off her cheek in the night wind. Her blue eyes are the one luminous thing in the frame: the irises glow a pale, cold blue with a faint radial pattern turning inward like a spiral, ringed in darker blue where the glow thins into the pupil, and she looks straight at the viewer without blinking, lids level, brows flat, lips closed and set in a straight line — expressionless, not angry and not soft, simply unreadable. Her jaw is turned a few degrees off the axis of her shoulders so the shot reads as a held pose rather than a catalog front view; her weight is on her back leg, the near hip pushed out just enough to carve the sharp inward curve of her waist. A black leather jacket hangs open over a white turtleneck that fits close across her chest and comes up to her jaw, the collar folded down once, its knit visibly finer than the jacket's grain; the leather catches a thin wet-looking highlight along the shoulders and creases hard at the inside of the elbow. The jacket stops at the hip; beneath it, short black shorts with a wide black leather belt and a plain square buckle sit high on her waist, and matte black opaque tights cover her legs down into plain black boots whose toes and shafts take a dull sheen. Her right hand is wrapped around the black-lacquered sheath of a Japanese sword, fingers curled in a loose but firm grip with the thumb over the guard, the scabbard angled down and back along her leg so the long curve sweeps out behind her calf and out of the crop; her left arm hangs at her side, hand relaxed and half-open. The only light is a cold streetlamp high behind her left shoulder and a moon veiled in thin cloud — no other source. That low backlight rims the crown of her head, the edge of her hair and the outer line of her shoulder in pale blue, leaves her face in soft shadow lit only by the reflection of her own eyes, and throws a hard elongated shadow of her and the sheathed sword across the wet asphalt toward the viewer, longer than she is tall because the lamp sits low behind her. The tights stay matte where the leather shines, so the rim light separates them by material as much as by value. The alley floor carries a shallow puddle at the lower edge of frame, and the reflected figure in it is darker and softer than she is, broken into slow rings where a drop has just fallen. Behind, the simple buildings are flat rectangles of deep blue-grey with a few unlit window squares and one distant dim rectangle high up; all incidental signage is reduced to illegible smudges. The palette is black, cold blue and the single white of the turtleneck, nothing else admitted. Character focus holds: everything behind her is simplified into two or three slab silhouettes, while the leather grain, the knit of the collar, the metal of the buckle and the lacquer of the scabbard carry the detail budget, with the blue glow of her eyes as the highest-contrast point in the image. Quiet, cold
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copyright: kara_no_kyoukai 1girl, solo, black hair, semi-short hair, blue eyes, mystic eyes, glowing eyes, expressionless, blank stare, large breasts, slender waist, leather jacket, black leather jacket, open jacket, white turtleneck, shorts, black shorts, belt, black tights, pantyhose, boots, black boots, katana, holding sword, holding katana, sheath, night, city, cityscape, simple background, building, outdoors, cowboy shot, from below, dutch angle, looking at viewer, standing, contrapposto, leather, turtleneck, serious, cold, moon, moonlight, rim light, blue glow, dark palette, anime style, high quality From a low three-quarter angle tilted slightly off-level, a single young woman stands alone on an empty night street, framed in a cowboy shot from mid-thigh to above the head so that the simple slab-like city buildings behind her stay faceless and secondary to her. She has black semi-short hair with a sharp, slightly uneven cut that frames her jaw, and the short blunt ends float a little off her cheek in the night wind. Her blue eyes are the one luminous thing in the frame: the irises glow a pale, cold blue with a faint radial pattern turning inward like a spiral, ringed in darker blue where the glow thins into the pupil, and she looks straight at the viewer without blinking, lids level, brows flat, lips closed and set in a straight line — expressionless, not angry and not soft, simply unreadable. Her jaw is turned a few degrees off the axis of her shoulders so the shot reads as a held pose rather than a catalog front view; her weight is on her back leg, the near hip pushed out just enough to carve the sharp inward curve of her waist. A black leather jacket hangs open over a white turtleneck that fits close across her chest and comes up to her jaw, the collar folded down once, its knit visibly finer than the jacket's grain; the leather catches a thin wet-looking highlight along the shoulders and creases hard at the inside of the elbow. The jacket stops at the hip; beneath it, short black shorts with a wide black leather belt and a plain square buckle sit high on her waist, and matte black opaque tights cover her legs down into plain black boots whose toes and shafts take a dull sheen. Her right hand is wrapped around the black-lacquered sheath of a Japanese sword, fingers curled in a loose but firm grip with the thumb over the guard, the scabbard angled down and back along her leg so the long curve sweeps out behind her calf and out of the crop; her left arm hangs at her side, hand relaxed and half-open. The only light is a cold streetlamp high behind her left shoulder and a moon veiled in thin cloud — no other source. That low backlight rims the crown of her head, the edge of her hair and the outer line of her shoulder in pale blue, leaves her face in soft shadow lit only by the reflection of her own eyes, and throws a hard elongated shadow of her and the sheathed sword across the wet asphalt toward the viewer, longer than she is tall because the lamp sits low behind her. The tights stay matte where the leather shines, so the rim light separates them by material as much as by value. The alley floor carries a shallow puddle at the lower edge of frame, and the reflected figure in it is darker and softer than she is, broken into slow rings where a drop has just fallen. Behind, the simple buildings are flat rectangles of deep blue-grey with a few unlit window squares and one distant dim rectangle high up; all incidental signage is reduced to illegible smudges. The palette is black, cold blue and the single white of the turtleneck, nothing else admitted. Character focus holds: everything behind her is simplified into two or three slab silhouettes, while the leather grain, the knit of the collar, the metal of the buckle and the lacquer of the scabbard carry the detail budget, with the blue glow of her eyes as the highest-contrast point in the image. Quiet, cold
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1girl, solo, adult, 20 years old, upper body, half body shot, cowboy shot, looking at viewer, expressionless, cool expression, standing, under shop awning, cyberpunk, sci-fi, night, neon lights, pink neon, cyan neon, skyscrapers, elevated walkway, light rain, wet pavement, reflection, huge moon, purple moon, night sky, very long hair, straight hair, jet black hair, waist-length hair, side-swept bangs, hair over one eye, dark blue eyes, sharp eyes, upturned eyes, large eyes, almond eyes, long eyelashes, glossy lips, small chin, light makeup, fair skin, hourglass figure, large breasts, f-cup, narrow waist, wide hips, black jacket, cropped jacket, high collar, white tight top, low-cut, cleavage, black pleated miniskirt, black over-the-knee socks, black boots, short boots, bare thighs, silver collar, choker, sword belt, katana, black handle, black lacquered sheath, sheathed, matte blade, left hand gripping sheath, right hand on hilt, hands on weapon, from below, dutch angle, foreshortening, Shot from below and slightly off-axis, tilted a few degrees so the awning's underside cuts a hard diagonal across the top of the frame: a lone 20-year-old woman stands at the lip of a shop awning, upper body and hips in frame, thighs cropped just below the skirt hem, her boots out of shot. She fills the left-center of the frame; the awning's dark underside and its single hanging tube light run above her head, and past her right shoulder the street opens into depth. She faces the lens squarely, chin level, and looks straight at the viewer — no smile, no tension, her mouth flat and glossy, a cool blank calm. Her dark blue upturned eyes stay half-lidded and level under straight brows, long lashes casting a faint shadow onto her cheekbones; her side-swept bangs fall across the right side of her face and half veil that eye, the rest of her jet black hair hanging straight and heavy past her shoulders to her waist, flattened and darkened along the crown where the rain-damp air touches it. Her weight sinks into her left hip — hip cocked, waist creasing sharply inside the tight white top, jacket hanging open and short above the black pleated skirt. Her left hand closes around the sheathed katana at her sword belt, fingers wrapped around the lacquered scabbard just below the belt loop, thumb pressed flat to the lacquer; her right hand rests higher, palm cupping the black handle at the hilt, index finger laid along the guard. The sheath angles down and back across her hip, so the raised right elbow sits close to her ribs. The thin silver collar band rings her throat above the jacket's towering black collar, one narrow bright arc of metal against her fair skin; the white top's low neckline shows the tops of her breasts and a clear cleavage line, and the cropped jacket's hem leaves a strip of bare midriff above the skirt. Her bare thighs show between the skirt's pleats and the black over-the-knee socks, cool-toned skin with a faint sheen of damp air. The katana is entirely matte: the black lacquered sheath and black handle absorb light with only dull, low-contrast highlights, a slender slightly curved line of dark against the neon, no glowing edge, no aura, nothing luminous along the blade. Overhead, elevated walkways with handrails cross the street in two receding spans, their undersides lit pink from below and their rails catching cyan; behind them the skyscrapers rise in a stack of dark stepped silhouettes. Pink and cyan signs in illegible script climb the facades — vertical signboards down both sides of the street, one huge sign sagging across the gap between towers — blooming into soft halos through the drizzle. A huge dark moon hangs low over the rooftops at the top right, its disc nearly black with a faint purple rim of glow and a thin scrim of cloud crossing its lower edge. The rain is light: fine diagonal streaks visible only where they pass in front of neon, beading as tiny separate points on the shoulders of her jacket, the crown of her hair and the top edge of the awning. The pavement below the awning is soaked and black, and it carries the whole street upside down — pink and cyan smeared into long vertical streaks that break into ripples where drips strike, and the awning's own shadow printed across the wet stone in a matte band where no neon reaches. The tube light under the awning is the source closest to her; it lies above and slightly in front of her, laying a cool white edge along her cheekbones, nose bridge, collarbone and the silver collar, throwing the undersides of her jaw, breasts and jacket into soft shadow, and the neon adds pink on her right side and cyan on her left. Beyond the light's reach the street falls into deep ink-black. Palette discipline: black, jet black hair and lacquered sheath and jacket, white top, and neon pink and cyan, with the single warm-neutral note of her fair skin and silver collar; nothing else admitted. Quiet, icy cool.
Nox
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