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AI art "玉座に座す高貴な女王" featuring #seduto, #Vestito, #occhi rossi, #capelli lunghi, #Capelli neri, #Trono, #1 ragazza and #sulla sedia
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玉座に座す高貴な女王

玉座にゆったりと腰掛ける彼女の、気高くもどこか蠱惑的な微笑みに心を奪われました。紫と黒を基調としたドレスが、彼女の持つ神秘的な魅力を一層引き立てています。気に入っていただけたら、いいねとフォローをお願いします！

#seduto#Vestito#occhi rossi#capelli lunghi#Capelli neri#Trono#1 ragazza#sulla sedia
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1girl, solo, female demon lord, seated on throne, sitting, lovely smile, charming smile, closed-mouth smile, soft eyes, long black hair, flowing hair, black velvet high-collared gown, deep purple silk lining, gold embroidery along hem, long black opera gloves, gold tiara, red ruby on tiara, demon lord's castle throne room, from below, low angle, dutch angle, three-quarter view, head tilt, one leg crossed over the other, hand on armrest, gaze at viewer, looking down at viewer, dramatic chiaroscuro, cold blue-purple shadow, warm gold rimlight, atmospheric haze, dark fantasy, quietly regal. The shot is taken from below and slightly off-axis in a mild dutch angle, so the throne's dais rises toward the top of the frame and the demon lord reads as towering even while seated: a single woman in a black velvet high-collared gown, her back not quite square to the seat, hips settled against the far armrest, one leg crossed over the other with the upper foot hanging free in the air, its pointed shoe catching a thread of gold light. Her right elbow rests on the near armrest, forearm relaxed, gloved fingers curled loosely over its edge; her left hand lies across her lap, gathering a slow fold of the deep purple silk lining where the skirt splits. The gown's collar rises high around her throat and frames her jaw, gold embroidery scrolling the hem where it spills over the dais step. Her long obsidian hair spills over one shoulder and down the back of the throne, a few strands lifted by a draught in the hall. The gold tiara sits low on her brow, its single blood-red ruby set at the centre, and the ruby holds one hard pinpoint of light while the rest of the metal falls into shadow. Her chin is tipped down toward the viewer while her eyes look up under the tiara's edge -- a lovely, unhurried smile, lips closed, one corner lifted a fraction higher than the other, the smile of someone who already knows how this ends. The hall opens behind and above her: a vaulted stone ceiling lost in darkness, two slender columns flanking the dais, cold blue-purple gloom pooled at the far end of the chamber, and a single shaft of pale light from a high window striking the left side of her face, the front of the collar and the top plane of her knee, leaving her right side and the seat of the throne in deep shadow; the dais cast shadow falls long across the floor toward the camera. Palette is restricted to black velvet, deep purple silk, old cold grey-green stone, and the warm gold of embroidery, tiara and skin highlights, with the ruby as the one saturated red. The air carries faint dust motes turning slowly in the light shaft, and the velvet of the armrest is flattened where her forearm presses it. Quietly regal, faintly dangerous.
Mostra parametri
Immissione richiesta originale
魔王城の玉座に座り、素敵な笑みを浮かべている女の魔王
Modalità
pro
Dimensione
768 x 1280
Negativo
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
Helper di Prompt

Modello e LoRA utilizzati

Tsubaki.3 - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
6.09k

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Avatar image of Lady Lilith
1girl, solo, sitting on throne, seated, leaning back, crossed legs, hands on armrests, long violet hair, straight hair, hair past waist, violet eyes, glowing eyes, eye glow, luminous violet irises, pale skin, light smile, closed mouth smile, faint smile, looking at viewer, half-closed eyes, deep purple velvet gown, gold embroidery, high collar, long sleeves, gold cuffs, bare earlobes, no hair ornaments, unadorned hair, from below, low angle, foreshortening, throne room, dark hall, stone columns, tall arched windows, night, moonlight, cool palette, deep purple, gold, black, cold blue moonlight, dramatic lighting, rim light, cinematic, no text, no speech bubble The camera sits low at the foot of the dais and tilts up, so the throne's tall back rises behind her and the armrests sweep in toward the lens in foreshortening. She is dropped back against the throne's upholstered back rather than perched upright: her spine against the padded panel, one shoulder lower than the other where she has let it slide, legs crossed with the upper knee over the lower and the lower foot hanging free with the toe of one velvet slipper just off the dais step. Her right palm rests flat on the right armrest and her fingers curl over its carved end, the gold ring of the armrest pressing a pale groove into her fingers; her left forearm lies along the left armrest with the wrist slack. The gown pools around her hips and spills over the seat's edge, its deep purple velvet catching a napped sheen where the cloth breaks over her thigh, and gold embroidery traces the high collar and the wide turned-back cuffs, the thread flaring where light hits the raised stitches. Her chin is tipped down toward the low camera while her eyes come up under half-lowered lids to meet the lens — a faint closed-lip smile, one corner a fraction higher than the other, the lower lip pressed and released once as if she were holding back a word. Her hair falls straight past her waist, some of it forward over the gown's shoulder and some of it caught behind her shoulder against the throne back. Her eyes are the light of the picture, and their glow is the revealer: the violet irises carry their own luminous core, and that light runs down onto the tops of her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose, and lays a cool violet sheen along the inner edges of the armrests where nothing else reaches. The only other source is moonlight through the tall arched windows behind and to her left — a hard cold blue edge on her shoulder, the collar's gold, and the armrest's crest, while her face's lower half and the hollow of the throne stay in a clean shadow that the eye glow pushes gently back. Beyond the dais the hall falls away into black stone columns and floor, unlit and absolute. Palette held to deep violet, tarnished gold, black and cold blue moonlight, with the eye glow as the single warm-cool anomaly inside it. Crisp cel linework with flat shadow shapes and a velvet nap rendered in soft gradation, quiet and regal.
Lady Lilith
AI artwork
Avatar image of Lady Lilith
1girl, solo, sitting on throne, seated, leaning back, crossed legs, hands on armrests, long violet hair, straight hair, hair past waist, violet eyes, glowing eyes, eye glow, luminous violet irises, pale skin, light smile, closed mouth smile, faint smile, looking at viewer, half-closed eyes, deep purple velvet gown, gold embroidery, high collar, long sleeves, gold cuffs, bare earlobes, no hair ornaments, unadorned hair, from below, low angle, foreshortening, throne room, dark hall, stone columns, tall arched windows, night, moonlight, cool palette, deep purple, gold, black, cold blue moonlight, dramatic lighting, rim light, cinematic, no text, no speech bubble The camera sits low at the foot of the dais and tilts up, so the throne's tall back rises behind her and the armrests sweep in toward the lens in foreshortening. She is dropped back against the throne's upholstered back rather than perched upright: her spine against the padded panel, one shoulder lower than the other where she has let it slide, legs crossed with the upper knee over the lower and the lower foot hanging free with the toe of one velvet slipper just off the dais step. Her right palm rests flat on the right armrest and her fingers curl over its carved end, the gold ring of the armrest pressing a pale groove into her fingers; her left forearm lies along the left armrest with the wrist slack. The gown pools around her hips and spills over the seat's edge, its deep purple velvet catching a napped sheen where the cloth breaks over her thigh, and gold embroidery traces the high collar and the wide turned-back cuffs, the thread flaring where light hits the raised stitches. Her chin is tipped down toward the low camera while her eyes come up under half-lowered lids to meet the lens — a faint closed-lip smile, one corner a fraction higher than the other, the lower lip pressed and released once as if she were holding back a word. Her hair falls straight past her waist, some of it forward over the gown's shoulder and some of it caught behind her shoulder against the throne back. Her eyes are the light of the picture, and their glow is the revealer: the violet irises carry their own luminous core, and that light runs down onto the tops of her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose, and lays a cool violet sheen along the inner edges of the armrests where nothing else reaches. The only other source is moonlight through the tall arched windows behind and to her left — a hard cold blue edge on her shoulder, the collar's gold, and the armrest's crest, while her face's lower half and the hollow of the throne stay in a clean shadow that the eye glow pushes gently back. Beyond the dais the hall falls away into black stone columns and floor, unlit and absolute. Palette held to deep violet, tarnished gold, black and cold blue moonlight, with the eye glow as the single warm-cool anomaly inside it. Crisp cel linework with flat shadow shapes and a velvet nap rendered in soft gradation, quiet and regal.
Lady Lilith
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美
female demon lord, solo, upper body, cowboy shot, from below, looking down at viewer, slight dutch angle, long flowing black hair, small ornate black crown, crimson gemstone in crown, long pointed ears, sharp crimson eyes, high-collared black velvet gown, gold embroidery on collar, obsidian shoulder pauldrons, hands resting on the arms of a dark throne, leaning back into the seat, one leg crossed over the other out of frame, confident lopsided smirk, one eyebrow arched, half-closed eyes, dark throne room, her own private chamber, heavy black drapery, tall gothic arched windows, black candle flames, deep shadow beyond the candle pool, crimson and gold and black palette, dramatic chiaroscuro The camera sits low, tilted a few degrees off level, looking up at her: the underside of her jaw, the black velvet collar rising past her chin at the sides, and the small black crown silhouetted against the vaulted dark above. She is not seated square -- her right hip is pushed forward in the throne, her weight thrown back against the tall carved backrest, left shoulder dropped lower than the right, so the obsidian pauldron on that side catches a long thin highlight while the other stays in shadow. Both hands rest flat on the throne's armrests, fingers curled loosely over the carved ends, the nails pale against the black wood; her chin is tipped down and her crimson eyes come at the lens from under half-lowered lids, one brow arched higher than the other, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a lopsided smirk that shows no teeth. Long black hair spills over both pauldrons and down behind the armrest on her left, a few strands lying flat across the velvet of her collar where it has settled. Her private chamber fills the frame behind and around her shoulders: black drapery hung in deep vertical folds from a height the crop never reaches, two tall gothic windows with pointed arches letting in nothing but a cold blue-black night, and to the right the edge of a black marble table with a low iron candelabra whose flames burn a dull crimson. Those candle flames are the only light source -- three of them off to her right, so the warmth strikes the right side of her face, the right pauldron and the right hand, and her left cheek, left pauldron and the whole left half of the throne fall away into near-black; a cast shadow of her crown climbs the drapery behind her. Gold thread on the collar glints only where the flame angle catches it; the crimson gem in the crown holds one hard pinpoint of flame light and stays dark everywhere else. Dust motes drift visible in the candle shafts, and the candle flames all lean the same slight direction from a draught the still air of the room does not otherwise show. Palette holds to black, crimson and old gold with the cold blue of the windows, nothing else admitted. Opulent, quietly menacing.
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