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作品コレクション
AI artwork
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solo, 1girl, character reference sheet, character design sheet, multiple views, kemonomimi, tiger ears, tiger tail, animal ears only, no fur on body, human skin, very many scars, scars all over body, scars instead of stripes, tiger color palette, orange and black, pale skin, blond hair, slightly blonde hair, short hair, messy hair, amber eyes, curvy, wide hips, narrow waist, slim stomach, concave stomach, bare midriff, navel, revealing clothes, torn top, ragged crop top, jagged hem, bare shoulders, very short miniskirt, torn miniskirt, ragged hem, thigh bandage, bandage on one thigh, thighs together, panties not visible, no panties visible, sweet expression, cute, light smile, blush, princess, desert, not wanting to be a princess, reluctant, ears down, looking at viewer, standing, contrapposto, hand on own hip, other hand tugging skirt hem, full body, from front, three-quarter view, from side, from behind, cowboy shot, close-up inset, white background, reference sheet layout A white reference-sheet layout showing one girl in four views of the same body, no grid lines, no extra people. Leftmost is a full-body three-quarter front view, then a full-body side view, then a full-body back view, and at the upper right a bust close-up inset. She is a slender, curvy young woman with wide hips, a narrow waist and a stomach so lean it dips concave under the ribs; her skin is bare human skin, pale warm ivory, with no fur and no pelt anywhere — the only animal features on her whole body are a pair of rounded tiger ears rising from the top of her head and a long striped tiger tail. Her hair is short, slightly blonde, tousled wheat-blond with darker roots, cut ragged around her jaw. Her eyes are amber with a dark slit-thin pupil, and in every view the ears are flattened back and tilted outward, the tail hangs low with its tip curled down. Across her arms, shoulders, ribs, waist, hip, both thighs and one cheek run dozens of pale raised scars, crosshatched and old, clustered in loose banded rows along her sides and back exactly where a tiger's stripes would sit — that banding is the only stripe pattern on her, and it is made of scar tissue, not fur. A wide orange-and-black tiger palette holds the whole sheet: orange in her ears, tail and the scars' warm undercast, black in the stripes, the torn fabric and the scar shadows, and the paper-white ground carries everything else. She wears a ragged crop top of torn black-orange cloth, its hem cut into sharp jagged points that ride high above her bare belly, the shoulders torn open so the straps sit loose on her collarbones; below it a very short torn miniskirt, its hem slashed and fraying, sitting low on her hips. On her right thigh a strip of off-white bandage is wound over the skirt hem in two passes, and the skirt plus that bandage close the space between her legs completely — the crotch is fully covered and nothing beneath the skirt is visible from any angle. In the front view her weight rests on her left leg with her right knee slightly bent, one hand planted on her hip and the other pinching the skirt hem down at her thigh, ears pinned back, a small closed-lip smile with a faint blush — sweet, but her brows are drawn up in the middle, so the smile reads as not wanting the crown she has been given. In the side view the same tug of the hem, tail curling behind her calf. In the back view her scarred shoulder blades and the banded scars down her spine, ears still low. The close-up inset at upper right frames her face and shoulders in soft even light, a tiny gold circlet half-slipped down over one ear — the only royal thing on her — with the same sweet, reluctant, ears-back expression. Lighting is flat, even, neutral studio light from the front-left in all views so the scars read cleanly; the only shadow is a soft short one under her feet on the seamless white. A single palm-frond shadow falls across the upper-left corner of the sheet, the one desert cue on the empty ground. Softly sad, very sweet.
Nov 6, 2026 12:00 PM
AI artwork
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1girl, solo, adult woman, kemonomimi, tiger ears, tiger tail, animal ears, animal tail, tiger girl, many scars, scarred body, scars all over body, no stripes, dark blond hair, extremely long messy hair, flowing hair, hime cut strands, orange and black palette, torn revealing top, torn short miniskirt, midriff, bare midriff, slim waist, thin belly, bare legs, bandage wraps on thighs only, bandages, shapely figure, slim body, thin limbs, mad expression, angry, glaring, crazy eyes, teeth bared, unwilling princess, princess of the desert, western comic style, american comic art, bold ink outlines, halftone shading, full color, comic cover illustration, low angle, from below, dutch angle, wide shot, full body, desert setting, wind, hair blowing, looking at viewer, clenched hands, angry pose, A low, tilted camera looks up from the sand at a single adult tiger-girl standing alone in a sunlit desert, framed as a painted western comic-book cover with bold black ink contours, hard-edged cross-hatching in the shadow masses and the dense dotted texture of halftone dot shading across her warm skin tones. Her slot in the composition is off-center to the left, her weight thrown onto the right leg and her left hip cocked so her body reads in a contorted, defiant S toward the viewer. She is not strong — her shoulders are narrow and angular, her arms thin, her wrists fragile, and although her figure is full-hipped and shapely, her waist is narrow, her belly flat and lean, with a slight hollow beneath the ribs as she breathes too hard. She is glaring straight at the camera: chin dropped, brow crushed down, the curve of one nostril flared by the snarl, front teeth showing between drawn-back lips, the whites of her green-amber eyes rimmed wide in an exasperated, almost crazy anger. Her hair is the loudest shape in the image — an enormous mane of messy, slightly darker blond hair, long enough to drag past her thighs, tangling in whipping blond-brown ropes and splitting ends that blow sideways to the right in the desert wind, some locks thrown clear of her shoulders and doubled across the background. Two round tiger ears, orange banded with heavy black, stand up through the top of the mane, twitching; the tail, matching orange with black bands, curves out behind her right hip in a low hooped lash that a small dust devil has caught, so the fur bristles back along it. Her body bears no tiger stripes anywhere: her skin is a pale warm tan, mapped instead with a great number of pale, raised scars — thin white slashes, a long crooked seam down the left forearm, hatchmarks and half-moons across her shoulder, collarbone, ribs, hips and the flat of her belly, a few creased puckers near the tail's root — all catching the harsh light as glossy ridges above the flat brown of the surrounding skin. She wears a torn, deep-orange constructive-looking top, halter-cut and jagged at the hem, cropped high under the bust so the whole midpoint of her torso is bare, the fabric ripped open across one side and straining at the neck straps. Below, a short black miniskirt sits low on her hipbones, shredded at the thigh hem and lifted by the wind so its torn plumes of cloth stream to one side; the bandages do not cover her legs but wrap a portion only of each thigh, dirty beige linen spiral-wound from mid-thigh downward toward the knee, the ends unwound and eats the wind. She wears nothing else — bare feet digging into a sand crest, toes splayed for balance, one hand clenched into a fist at her side, the other pushing a sheet of blowing blond hair out of her face with the knuckles. The environment is vast and empty around her: an ocean of orange dunes rippling to a hard horizon line, the ridgeline subjected to lowered light so that every wind-scoured crest glows and every lee-side gutter falls away into warm black shadow; far behind her rises the blocky silhouette of a desert palace with minarets like stacked matchboxes, winking red-gold from one lit wall, and its huge processional stair curves down to the dune she stands on as if she might be expected to climb it. The sky is a deep, cloudless turquoise over baked gold; a single hard sun low at screen-left throws her long, thin, knife-edged shadow across the sand to the right, and the wind-scoured ridges of the sand grain the cast edge of it into soft teeth — the shadow is a fraction darker and softer than the shadowed body that casts it. Sand drawn off the crest drifts through the air past her shins in a translucent tan veil. Palette is strictly orange-and-black on a hot sky: orange in her ears, tail, top, hair's inner locks and the dunes; black in her ear bands, tail bands, skirt, the highest-contrast ink shadows and the shadow-spotting of her silhouette; pale blond in the squeaky light kept for the hair's crown and the scars; nothing else admitted. She is a mad waifu — furious at the crown, insisting on it. Every line of her body says: hot, and uninterrupted.
Nov 6, 2026 11:58 AM
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