Nov 9, 2026

【お知らせ】生成速度の低下とGPUリソース不足について — PixAIをご利用の皆さまへいつもPixAIをご利用いただき、誠にありがとうございます。現在、PixAI全体で生成速度が低下し、通常よりも生成待ちの時間が長くなっています。ご利用の皆さまにはご不便をおかけしており、心よりお詫び申し上げま…

AI art "Hi~" featuring #獣人, #闇, #八重歯, #ダガー, #ねこしっぽ, #ファンタジー, #猫娘 and #メスケモ

無料で生成

Hi~

#獣人 #闇 #八重歯 #ダガー #ねこしっぽ #ファンタジー #猫娘 #メスケモ

投稿日は Nov 5, 2026

Furrelia

さらに表示

1girl, solo, furry girl, black cat furry girl, female furry, fur body, black fur, black hair, black eyes, skinny body, tomboy, fangs, smile, black blouse, black corset, black pants, black footwear, short sword, assassin, standing, street girl, fantasy, victorian era, dark night, looking at viewer, high angle, from above, outstretched arm, holding sword, hand up, fingers spread, open mouth, :d, one eye half-closed, arched back, looking up, cobblestone street, gas lamp, night, seen from high above, the camera looks straight down the front of a narrow Victorian fantasy street at night: a lone skinny black-cat furry girl stands square in the lane, and the steep downward angle foreshortens her so her shoulders fill the upper third of the frame and her boots stand small on the wet cobblestones at the bottom. Her whole body is covered in short dense black fur, sleek over lean limbs and a narrow waist, a thin black tail curling out behind her right hip; a pair of rounded black cat ears rise from her shaggy black hair, and two small white fangs show at the corner of her open-mouthed grin. Her black eyes are tipped up hard into the lens, chin raised and head slightly tilted, one eye half-lidded, so the upward glance fights the descending camera and reads as a dare. She is draped in black on black -- a black blouse with a soft open collar under a tightly laced black corset that cinches her skinny waist, black pants tucked into black boots planted one slightly ahead of the other, her weight on the back foot, hips canted, shoulders rolled back. Her left arm is flung up and out toward the lens, foreshortened into a foreshortened sleeve with five perfect, crisply drawn hands' fingers spread wide as if catching something; her right hand rests loose and elegant at her hip, thumb hooked in her belt, the short sword sheathed and slanted across that hip with its worn leather scabbard catching a thin white highlight along the edge. Contact is everywhere the body meets the world: the boot soles flatten on wet stone, the scabbard taps her thigh, the corset laces pull the blouse into radiating creases. The street is tall and narrow: brick and timber façades with dark shopfronts lean in from both sides, an iron gas lamp on the left throws the only warm amber pool, and its light strikes the top of her head, the ridge of her nose, the tops of her shoulders and her raised knuckles, leaving everything below her knees and the deep alley mouths in black. Wet cobblestones mirror the lamp in long broken smears that are darker and softer than the source, and puddles sit in the low joints between the stones. Pale mist drifts between the buildings, thinning as it rises into a cold blue-black sky with a single star. Above, a narrow strip of dark window glass reflects nothing; a hanging wrought-iron sign with illegible weathered lettering creaks on its bracket. The palette is close to monochrome -- black fur, black garments, black boots, cold blue shadow and one amber lamp -- with only the white of the fangs and eye glints breaking it. Her raised arm's shadow falls across the cobbles below her, and the puddle nearest her toes holds a doubled, blurred reflection of the lamp. Quiet menace, effortlessly cool.

Hi~

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