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AI artwork featuring #SSSS.GRIDMAN, #宝多六花 and #グリッドマン ユニバース
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宝多六花・SSSS.GRIDMAN

グリッドマン ユニバースなどのタグがついたfaitanさんのAIイラストです。使用モデル: Tsubaki.3。

#SSSS.GRIDMAN#宝多六花#グリッドマン ユニバース
f

faitan

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character: takarada_rikka upper body only, close-up, cowboy shot, takarada rikka, long black hair, blue eyes, hair bow, scrunchie on wrist, white and blue sports bra, boxing gloves, bare shoulders, sweat, bruised cheek, split lip, black eye, exhausted, tired, half-closed eyes, open mouth panting, leaning at turnbuckle, standing, corner post, four parallel ropes, old dirty boxing ring, stained canvas, frayed rope tape, in a bar, dark wood, bottles behind the bar, crowd cheering, silhouetted spectators, arms raised, thrown cash, banknotes fluttering in the air, banknotes on the canvas, overhead spotlight, warm amber bar light, volumetric haze, dutch angle, gritty palette, Shot from a low dutch angle tilted a few degrees off level, framing her from the waist up in the near corner of an old dirty boxing ring set inside a bar. She stands pressed into the turnbuckle: the padded corner post rises behind her right shoulder, three frayed ropes crossing her back and running away past her left hip, their tape split and greying, the leather worn pale where shoulders have leaned for years. Her black long hair is loose and damp, strands stuck flat to her cheek and throat, the rest spilling over her right shoulder and down past her collarbone; a small bow sits at the back of her head, half-hidden, and a scrunchie circles her left wrist above the glove cuff. She wears a white and blue sports bra, white across the chest with blue trim along the neckline and blue side panels, the fabric dark with sweat under the arms and at the center of the chest, cotton straps pressed flat into her shoulders. Oversized boxing gloves, scuffed and chalky, hang at the ends of her arms: her right glove rests heavy on the top rope, dragging it down a finger's width so the rope sags and its far end lifts; her left glove is hooked under the middle rope beside her hip, thumb-side in, knuckles dimpling the leather. Her weight has slid onto her right hip and the post behind it, left knee soft, shoulders dropped, chin tipped back and to one side. Her face is a beaten thing done fighting: a swollen bruise under the left eye half-shut by it, a split at the corner of her lip, a red graze along the right cheekbone, sweat beading the brow and sliding down the temple; her lips are parted as she pulls a slow breath, eyes half-lidded and looking past the ropes into the crowd without focusing on anyone. Behind and above her the bar closes in: dark varnished wood, shelving crowded with bottles catching the light, the ring ropes cutting horizontal lines across the drinkers crowded at the apron. The crowd presses to the edge of the ring in silhouette, arms up, mouths open in a shout she no longer hears; one hand near the bell. Cash is in the air mid-flight -- banknotes twisted and fluttering, a few already settled on the stained canvas near the corner, one caught flat against the ropes behind her shoulder. A single overhead spotlight drops hard from above and left, hammering the crown of her head, the wet shine of her shoulders and the tops of the gloves while leaving her eye sockets and the underside of her jaw in shadow; beyond the ring's pool of light the bar falls to near darkness, bottle glass and raised fists glinting. Palette: dirty cream and worn blue in the bra and ring canvas, deep brown and black in the wood and crowd, warm amber haze, one red note in the cut lip and the bow. Cool sweat highlights against the warm bar light; the sag of the top rope under her glove is the whole story of her weight. Exhausted, still standing.
パラメーターを見る
オリジナルプロンプト
takarada rikka,,,,old and dirty boxing ring,at turnbuckle,white and blue spoorts bra,only upper body,,exhausted, beaten up,looking tired,boxing gloves, in a bar,standing,crowd cheering and throwing cash
モード
pro
品質タグ
﹝プロンプト﹞
縦横比
1280 x 768
サンプリング方法
Euler
ネガティブ
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
プロンプト自動変換

利用したモデルとLoRA

Tsubaki.3 - AI Modelのカバー画像

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
7.56k

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続きを読む
AI artwork
f
character: takarada_rikka upper body only, close-up, cowboy shot, takarada rikka, long black hair, blue eyes, hair bow, scrunchie on wrist, white and blue sports bra, boxing gloves, bare shoulders, sweat, bruised cheek, split lip, black eye, exhausted, tired, half-closed eyes, open mouth panting, leaning at turnbuckle, standing, corner post, four parallel ropes, old dirty boxing ring, stained canvas, frayed rope tape, in a bar, dark wood, bottles behind the bar, crowd cheering, silhouetted spectators, arms raised, thrown cash, banknotes fluttering in the air, banknotes on the canvas, overhead spotlight, warm amber bar light, volumetric haze, dutch angle, gritty palette, Shot from a low dutch angle tilted a few degrees off level, framing her from the waist up in the near corner of an old dirty boxing ring set inside a bar. She stands pressed into the turnbuckle: the padded corner post rises behind her right shoulder, three frayed ropes crossing her back and running away past her left hip, their tape split and greying, the leather worn pale where shoulders have leaned for years. Her black long hair is loose and damp, strands stuck flat to her cheek and throat, the rest spilling over her right shoulder and down past her collarbone; a small bow sits at the back of her head, half-hidden, and a scrunchie circles her left wrist above the glove cuff. She wears a white and blue sports bra, white across the chest with blue trim along the neckline and blue side panels, the fabric dark with sweat under the arms and at the center of the chest, cotton straps pressed flat into her shoulders. Oversized boxing gloves, scuffed and chalky, hang at the ends of her arms: her right glove rests heavy on the top rope, dragging it down a finger's width so the rope sags and its far end lifts; her left glove is hooked under the middle rope beside her hip, thumb-side in, knuckles dimpling the leather. Her weight has slid onto her right hip and the post behind it, left knee soft, shoulders dropped, chin tipped back and to one side. Her face is a beaten thing done fighting: a swollen bruise under the left eye half-shut by it, a split at the corner of her lip, a red graze along the right cheekbone, sweat beading the brow and sliding down the temple; her lips are parted as she pulls a slow breath, eyes half-lidded and looking past the ropes into the crowd without focusing on anyone. Behind and above her the bar closes in: dark varnished wood, shelving crowded with bottles catching the light, the ring ropes cutting horizontal lines across the drinkers crowded at the apron. The crowd presses to the edge of the ring in silhouette, arms up, mouths open in a shout she no longer hears; one hand near the bell. Cash is in the air mid-flight -- banknotes twisted and fluttering, a few already settled on the stained canvas near the corner, one caught flat against the ropes behind her shoulder. A single overhead spotlight drops hard from above and left, hammering the crown of her head, the wet shine of her shoulders and the tops of the gloves while leaving her eye sockets and the underside of her jaw in shadow; beyond the ring's pool of light the bar falls to near darkness, bottle glass and raised fists glinting. Palette: dirty cream and worn blue in the bra and ring canvas, deep brown and black in the wood and crowd, warm amber haze, one red note in the cut lip and the bow. Cool sweat highlights against the warm bar light; the sag of the top rope under her glove is the whole story of her weight. Exhausted, still standing.
faitan
AI artwork
f
1girl, solo, adult woman, black hair, hime cut, ponytail, golden eyes, freckles, white and blue sports bra, boxing gloves, old dirty boxing ring, turnbuckle, standing, exhausted, beaten up, looking tired, crowd cheering, throwing money, bar, cowboy shot, only upper body, from below, dutch angle, looking down, half-closed eyes, parted lips, bruise on cheek, band-aid on cheek, sweat, messy hair, strands over face, leaning back against turnbuckle, upper body only, crowd silhouettes, money in air, dim bar interior, warm amber light, high contrast, cinematic Shot from a low dutch angle in a cowboy framing that cuts off at the waist, an adult woman stands with her back pressed flat against the padded turnbuckle of an old, grimy boxing ring; the ropes cross in front of her shoulders and her spine is arched slightly away from the post under her own exhausted weight. Her black hair is a hime cut gone loose: blunt bangs stuck to a sweat-slicked forehead, long side locks plastered to her cheeks, and the high ponytail pulled back at the crown has frayed into wet strands that swing forward over her left shoulder. Her golden eyes are half-lidded, looking down and out toward the floor past the bottom rope, not at the camera; the whites are faintly pink, her lips are parted with a slow ragged breath, and a bruise darkens her right cheekbone with a scuffed band-aid at the edge. Freckles scatter across her nose and the tops of her cheeks, standing out against flushed skin. She wears a white and blue sports bra whose hem is darkened with sweat, the blue trim running in two bands across the front; both fists are inside heavy boxing gloves—the left one hanging at her thigh, the right one lifted just enough to hook the middle rope for balance, the leather cracked and dull. The ring is old and dirty: the canvas beneath her is stained and littered with discarded paper cups and a dark smear of old blood, the turnbuckle pad is split and taped, and the ropes are mottled with grime. Beyond and below the ring, the bar is packed—rows of silhouetted figures in the smoky dark, mouths open in a roar, and a shower of folded bills and loose cash is caught mid-air above their heads, tumbling down toward the canvas, some notes just landing on the nearest rope where she leans. The only light comes from a single harsh overhead ring lamp that punches a hot circle onto her and the corner post, leaving everything past the ropes in deep amber-black murk; the light rakes her left side, throws her cheekbone into relief, and leaves her right eye in shadow, while the flying bills catch brief white glints as they fall. The palette is locked to sweat-sheened skin tones, the white and blue of the bra, and the amber bar darkness, warmed throughout. The detail budget is spent on her face, the sweat and bruising, the grip of the gloved hand on the rope, and the physical sag of her shoulders. Quietly brutal, spent.
faitan
AI artwork
f
1girl, solo, adult woman, black hair, hime cut, ponytail, golden eyes, freckles, white and blue sports bra, boxing gloves, old dirty boxing ring, turnbuckle, standing, exhausted, beaten up, looking tired, crowd cheering, throwing money, bar, cowboy shot, only upper body, from below, dutch angle, looking down, half-closed eyes, parted lips, bruise on cheek, band-aid on cheek, sweat, messy hair, strands over face, leaning back against turnbuckle, upper body only, crowd silhouettes, money in air, dim bar interior, warm amber light, high contrast, cinematic Shot from a low dutch angle in a cowboy framing that cuts off at the waist, an adult woman stands with her back pressed flat against the padded turnbuckle of an old, grimy boxing ring; the ropes cross in front of her shoulders and her spine is arched slightly away from the post under her own exhausted weight. Her black hair is a hime cut gone loose: blunt bangs stuck to a sweat-slicked forehead, long side locks plastered to her cheeks, and the high ponytail pulled back at the crown has frayed into wet strands that swing forward over her left shoulder. Her golden eyes are half-lidded, looking down and out toward the floor past the bottom rope, not at the camera; the whites are faintly pink, her lips are parted with a slow ragged breath, and a bruise darkens her right cheekbone with a scuffed band-aid at the edge. Freckles scatter across her nose and the tops of her cheeks, standing out against flushed skin. She wears a white and blue sports bra whose hem is darkened with sweat, the blue trim running in two bands across the front; both fists are inside heavy boxing gloves—the left one hanging at her thigh, the right one lifted just enough to hook the middle rope for balance, the leather cracked and dull. The ring is old and dirty: the canvas beneath her is stained and littered with discarded paper cups and a dark smear of old blood, the turnbuckle pad is split and taped, and the ropes are mottled with grime. Beyond and below the ring, the bar is packed—rows of silhouetted figures in the smoky dark, mouths open in a roar, and a shower of folded bills and loose cash is caught mid-air above their heads, tumbling down toward the canvas, some notes just landing on the nearest rope where she leans. The only light comes from a single harsh overhead ring lamp that punches a hot circle onto her and the corner post, leaving everything past the ropes in deep amber-black murk; the light rakes her left side, throws her cheekbone into relief, and leaves her right eye in shadow, while the flying bills catch brief white glints as they fall. The palette is locked to sweat-sheened skin tones, the white and blue of the bra, and the amber bar darkness, warmed throughout. The detail budget is spent on her face, the sweat and bruising, the grip of the gloved hand on the rope, and the physical sag of her shoulders. Quietly brutal, spent.
faitan
#黛冬優子
AI artwork
f
1girl, solo, adult woman, black hair, hime cut, long straight side locks framing the face, high ponytail, golden eyes, freckles, exhausted, tired, beaten up, bruise on cheekbone, split lip, sweat, heavy-lidded eyes, half-closed eyes, white and black sports bra, boxing gloves, boxing ring, old dirty boxing ring, leaning at turnbuckle, turnbuckle, standing, only upper body, upper body, cowboy shot, from below, looking down, crowd, cheering, throwing money, cash, bar, dim bar interior, warm haze, close-up, The camera sits low inside the ring apron, tilted up from below so the corner post rises past the left edge of frame; only the upper body is in shot, framed from the waist up with the crop cutting at the ribs, and the woman stands leaning into the near turnbuckle, her right forearm and the padded red turnbuckle cover taking her weight while her left glove hangs low and loose at her hip line, one hip cocked against the post so the ropes press a shallow line into her flank. Black hair is cut in a blunt hime style with two long straight side locks falling past her jaw, the rest pulled back into a high ponytail whose tail has come half loose and sticks to the sweat at her neck; a strand of it lies across her damp forehead. Her golden eyes are heavy, lids half-shut, gazing down and out past the ropes toward the shouting floor, not at the viewer, and her chin is lifted slightly by the exhaustion of holding her head up. Freckles scatter across her nose and cheekbones over skin that is flushed red at the cheeks and shoulders; a bruise darkens high on her right cheekbone and her lower lip is split and swollen, dried blood at the corner of the mouth, a smear of it tacked across one shoulder. The sports bra is white and black — black side panels and a black underband, white front panel darkened with sweat and a coin-sized red blot at the ribs — and her boxing gloves are worn, cracked and dusty, laces slack at the wrists. Below the crop, the ring canvas falls away out of frame. The ring is old and dirty: the canvas floor stained and scuffed, the turnbuckle pad split and taped, ropes frayed and slack with dust and old rosin, the ropes running in four parallel lines that converge toward the frame's right edge under perspective. Beyond and below the ropes, the bar crowds in out of focus — sweating bottles racked on backlit shelves, a hanging bulb, cigarette haze. A ring of spectators presses at the apron, mouths open mid-shout, and bills and coins arc through the air toward the canvas, banknotes curled and caught in the ring light, some bills caught in the lower ropes and fluttering against the mesh; one note is stuck flat to the sweat of the woman's shoulder. Light comes from the single ring bulb directly above, hard and warm, striping the top of her head, the bridge of her nose and the tops of her shoulders while the underside of her jaw, the hollows of her eyes and the inside of the ring ropes fall into deep shadow; her cast shadow drops straight down onto the canvas between her boots. Palette is limited to sweat-shined skin, black hair and black panel trim, the white of the bra and canvas, bruised red-violet, and the amber haze of the bar beyond the ropes. Exhausted, hollowed-out, stubborn.
faitan

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