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超絶ブラック本丸

Arte IA «超絶ブラック本丸» di 鐵霧夜 su PixAI. Tag: Touken Ranbu, Guro, occhi rossi, felpa con cappuccio. Creato con Tsubaki.3.

政府直属救命部隊が肥前を発見。呼び掛けに反応無し。舌と右腕の欠損を確認。審神者により鎮痛剤が違法薬物にすり替えられ、気付かず服用した模様。直ちに医療機関への搬送を実行する。

#Guro #occhi rossi #felpa con cappuccio #Capelli neri #Sangue #1 ragazzo #Touken Ranbu #cappuccio #sangue dalla bocca #Flacone di pillole #Hizen Tadahiro

Pubblicato il Oct 24, 2026

鐵

鐵霧夜

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character: hizen_tadahiro, copyright: touken_ranbu 1boy, solo, hizen_tadahiro, black hair, red hair, two-tone hair, multicolored hair, short hair, spiked hair, crossed bangs, hair between eyes, red eyes, right arm amputated, severed right arm, bandaged stump, left arm limp, hanging limp at side, half of tongue tip cut off, severed tongue tip, blood at mouth corner, sitting, leaning against pillar, slumped, hollow eyes, vacant stare, empty expression, half-closed eyes, emergency first aid, bloodstained bandages, torn hoodie, hood down, dark oppressive atmosphere, dim interior, low key lighting, from side, cowboy shot, dutch angle, The camera looks slightly up and in from his left side at a mild dutch tilt, catching him in a low cowboy shot: the figure of a young man with short spiked black hair whose front locks and inner tips run a deep blood red, the two tones crossing in jagged bangs over his brow, seated on the bare wooden floorboards of a dim room and slumped sideways against a thick square timber pillar. His back and right shoulder blade press flat to the pillar's face, the pillar's edge cutting a vertical line just behind his hip; his legs are folded loosely to one side, knees bent, one ankle turned over the other, weight pooled in his hips rather than held in his spine. The right sleeve of his dark hooded jacket ends in a wrapped stump just below the shoulder: a thick pad of gauze bound with strips of white cloth that have soaked through in dark irregular blotches, the knot on the outer side, the fabric of the sleeve cut and folded back and stitched roughly. His left arm hangs from the shoulder with no tension at all, sliding down the pillar's face, the palm turned slightly outward, the fingers curled and slack, the elbow never locking — the whole limb given over to gravity. His head has tipped back against the wood, chin lifted, throat exposed; his red eyes are wide and unfocused, looking at nothing past the far corner of the room, the lids barely moving, the shine in them flat. His lips part just enough to show the tongue, and the tongue is sheared clean across about halfway back from the tip, the cut edge raw and dark, a thin line of blood running from the corner of his mouth down over his jaw to the collar. First aid is scattered around the base of the pillar: an unrolled bandage trailing over a floorboard seam, a small brown bottle standing upright, a crumpled cloth stiff with dried blood. The only light enters from a paper screen off-frame to the left, a cold gray wash that strikes the left side of his face and the front of his throat, catches the wet edge of the tongue, and dies across the pillar into absolute blackness on his right; dust motes hang in the beam, and the pillar casts a hard-edged shadow that stretches away across the floorboards while the floor between its seams stays in deep shadow. The palette is black and cold charcoal for the room and the pillar, rust and dried-blood red in his hair tips and in the soaked gauze, and a single pale gray for the bandage white and the light on his skin. Secondary motion is only stillness: the loose hood fabric sags against the pillar, one strand of the red-tipped bangs stirs faintly at his breath. Quiet dread, bleeding out.

超絶ブラック本丸

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