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AI artwork
สร้างฟรี

白武遼

ภาพ AI โดย 白武遼 บน PixAI สร้างด้วย Tsubaki.3 Flash

白

白武遼

ดูเพิ่มเติม

คอมเมนต์

character: shokudaikiri_mitsutada, copyright: touken_ranbu 2girls, 1boy, shokudaikiri mitsutada, short black hair, yellow eyes, black eyepatch over right eye, black gloves, dark blue and black military-style uniform with gold trim, tall collared jacket, slim waist, beautiful refined appearance, well-defined facial contours, kneeling, on one knee, head snapped to the side, red slap mark on cheek, stinging cheek, submissive demeanor, lowered gaze, dazed half-closed eyes, flushed face, trembling, beautiful female ninja, female ninja, dark navy shinobi shozoku wrap, cloth mask pulled down under the chin, black hair tied back in a high ponytail, slender athletic build, standing over him, leaning in, alternating backhand and open-palm slaps, swinging arm, motion blur on the slapping hand, dominant, cold narrowed eyes, open mouth mid-shout, honmaru interior, wooden veranda, shoji screens, tatami floor, night, paper lantern, dutch angle, cowboy shot, looking at another, from below, cinematic lighting, motion lines The camera looks up from floor level at a low dutch angle across the honmaru's wooden veranda at night, so the kneeling figure reads small and the standing woman reads towering. Shokudaikiri Mitsutada kneels on both knees on the worn tatami at the veranda's edge, hips sunk back on his heels, spine curved forward, shoulders drawn in; his left hand grips his own thigh, knuckles pale, the right hand hangs loose and open at his side, unresisting. His head is snapped to his left, chin thrown by the blow, cheek stinging red from the previous strike, one yellow eye half-lidded and unfocused, the other covered by the black eyepatch strap running back through his short black hair; his lips are parted on a shallow breath and his jaw is slack — not fighting back, wanting this. The tall collared dark blue jacket with its gold trim is pulled askew at the shoulder by his slumped posture, and the cinched waist of his uniform sits narrow above his kneeling thighs, the slim waist clear against the wide flare of the coat. Above and to his right, the female ninja in her dark navy shinobi wrap stands with one foot braced forward on the veranda boards, weight driving off her back leg, cloth mask pulled down beneath her chin so her cold narrowed eyes and open, shouting mouth are visible; her right arm is drawn back to her shoulder and swung in, the back of her hand catching his cheek with the motion smeared across it, while her left hand is already gathering at her hip for the returning forehand slap. Her high ponytail whips out behind her with the follow-through and the hem of her wrap snaps outward. Her gaze is locked down onto his face; his half-open eye drifts toward her without focus, the reaction of someone who wants the next blow. Behind them, shoji screens with dark wooden lattice stand cracked open onto the veranda and a single paper lantern on a post throws warm amber light from the upper left, catching the woman's cheekbone and shoulder, streaking the gold trim on his uniform, and leaving the underside of his jaw and the far side of the courtyard in deep indigo shadow; his cast shadow is thrown long across the tatami, distorted by the dutch tilt. The palette is restrained to warm lantern amber, deep indigo night, his uniform's dark blue and gold, and the raw red of the slap marks. A thin line of blood at the corner of his mouth is the only detail that catches the light as it runs down his chin. Tense, humiliating, charged with surrender.
ดูพารามิเตอร์
พรอมต์ต้นฉบับ
美女に主導権を取られたい願望がある燭台切光忠（刀剣乱舞の服装、ウエストが細く、容姿端麗、顔の輪郭が整っている）、本丸に侵入してきた美女忍者に往復ビンタされている燭台切光忠。
โหมด
flash
ขนาด
1104 x 1824
ตัวช่วยพรอมต์

โมเดลและ LoRA ที่ใช้

Tsubaki.3 Flash - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3 Flash
2.14k

รูปภาพคล้ายกัน

ดูเพิ่มเติม
AI artwork
白
character: shokudaikiri_mitsutada, copyright: touken_ranbu 2girls, 1boy, shokudaikiri mitsutada, short black hair, yellow eyes, black eyepatch over right eye, black gloves, dark blue and black military-style uniform with gold trim, tall collared jacket, slim waist, beautiful refined appearance, well-defined facial contours, kneeling, on one knee, head snapped to the side, red slap mark on cheek, stinging cheek, submissive demeanor, lowered gaze, dazed half-closed eyes, flushed face, trembling, beautiful female ninja, female ninja, dark navy shinobi shozoku wrap, cloth mask pulled down under the chin, black hair tied back in a high ponytail, slender athletic build, standing over him, leaning in, alternating backhand and open-palm slaps, swinging arm, motion blur on the slapping hand, dominant, cold narrowed eyes, open mouth mid-shout, honmaru interior, wooden veranda, shoji screens, tatami floor, night, paper lantern, dutch angle, cowboy shot, looking at another, from below, cinematic lighting, motion lines The camera looks up from floor level at a low dutch angle across the honmaru's wooden veranda at night, so the kneeling figure reads small and the standing woman reads towering. Shokudaikiri Mitsutada kneels on both knees on the worn tatami at the veranda's edge, hips sunk back on his heels, spine curved forward, shoulders drawn in; his left hand grips his own thigh, knuckles pale, the right hand hangs loose and open at his side, unresisting. His head is snapped to his left, chin thrown by the blow, cheek stinging red from the previous strike, one yellow eye half-lidded and unfocused, the other covered by the black eyepatch strap running back through his short black hair; his lips are parted on a shallow breath and his jaw is slack — not fighting back, wanting this. The tall collared dark blue jacket with its gold trim is pulled askew at the shoulder by his slumped posture, and the cinched waist of his uniform sits narrow above his kneeling thighs, the slim waist clear against the wide flare of the coat. Above and to his right, the female ninja in her dark navy shinobi wrap stands with one foot braced forward on the veranda boards, weight driving off her back leg, cloth mask pulled down beneath her chin so her cold narrowed eyes and open, shouting mouth are visible; her right arm is drawn back to her shoulder and swung in, the back of her hand catching his cheek with the motion smeared across it, while her left hand is already gathering at her hip for the returning forehand slap. Her high ponytail whips out behind her with the follow-through and the hem of her wrap snaps outward. Her gaze is locked down onto his face; his half-open eye drifts toward her without focus, the reaction of someone who wants the next blow. Behind them, shoji screens with dark wooden lattice stand cracked open onto the veranda and a single paper lantern on a post throws warm amber light from the upper left, catching the woman's cheekbone and shoulder, streaking the gold trim on his uniform, and leaving the underside of his jaw and the far side of the courtyard in deep indigo shadow; his cast shadow is thrown long across the tatami, distorted by the dutch tilt. The palette is restrained to warm lantern amber, deep indigo night, his uniform's dark blue and gold, and the raw red of the slap marks. A thin line of blood at the corner of his mouth is the only detail that catches the light as it runs down his chin. Tense, humiliating, charged with surrender.
白武遼
AI artwork
白
character: shokudaikiri_mitsutada, copyright: touken_ranbu 2girls, 1boy, shokudaikiri mitsutada, short black hair, yellow eyes, black eyepatch over right eye, black gloves, dark blue and black military-style uniform with gold trim, tall collared jacket, slim waist, beautiful refined appearance, well-defined facial contours, kneeling, on one knee, head snapped to the side, red slap mark on cheek, stinging cheek, submissive demeanor, lowered gaze, dazed half-closed eyes, flushed face, trembling, beautiful female ninja, female ninja, dark navy shinobi shozoku wrap, cloth mask pulled down under the chin, black hair tied back in a high ponytail, slender athletic build, standing over him, leaning in, alternating backhand and open-palm slaps, swinging arm, motion blur on the slapping hand, dominant, cold narrowed eyes, open mouth mid-shout, honmaru interior, wooden veranda, shoji screens, tatami floor, night, paper lantern, dutch angle, cowboy shot, looking at another, from below, cinematic lighting, motion lines The camera looks up from floor level at a low dutch angle across the honmaru's wooden veranda at night, so the kneeling figure reads small and the standing woman reads towering. Shokudaikiri Mitsutada kneels on both knees on the worn tatami at the veranda's edge, hips sunk back on his heels, spine curved forward, shoulders drawn in; his left hand grips his own thigh, knuckles pale, the right hand hangs loose and open at his side, unresisting. His head is snapped to his left, chin thrown by the blow, cheek stinging red from the previous strike, one yellow eye half-lidded and unfocused, the other covered by the black eyepatch strap running back through his short black hair; his lips are parted on a shallow breath and his jaw is slack — not fighting back, wanting this. The tall collared dark blue jacket with its gold trim is pulled askew at the shoulder by his slumped posture, and the cinched waist of his uniform sits narrow above his kneeling thighs, the slim waist clear against the wide flare of the coat. Above and to his right, the female ninja in her dark navy shinobi wrap stands with one foot braced forward on the veranda boards, weight driving off her back leg, cloth mask pulled down beneath her chin so her cold narrowed eyes and open, shouting mouth are visible; her right arm is drawn back to her shoulder and swung in, the back of her hand catching his cheek with the motion smeared across it, while her left hand is already gathering at her hip for the returning forehand slap. Her high ponytail whips out behind her with the follow-through and the hem of her wrap snaps outward. Her gaze is locked down onto his face; his half-open eye drifts toward her without focus, the reaction of someone who wants the next blow. Behind them, shoji screens with dark wooden lattice stand cracked open onto the veranda and a single paper lantern on a post throws warm amber light from the upper left, catching the woman's cheekbone and shoulder, streaking the gold trim on his uniform, and leaving the underside of his jaw and the far side of the courtyard in deep indigo shadow; his cast shadow is thrown long across the tatami, distorted by the dutch tilt. The palette is restrained to warm lantern amber, deep indigo night, his uniform's dark blue and gold, and the raw red of the slap marks. A thin line of blood at the corner of his mouth is the only detail that catches the light as it runs down his chin. Tense, humiliating, charged with surrender.
白武遼
#โชคุไดคิริ มิทสึทาดะ
AI artwork
白
character: shokudaikiri_mitsutada, copyright: touken_ranbu 2girls, 1boy, shokudaikiri mitsutada, short black hair, yellow eyes, black eyepatch over right eye, black gloves, dark blue and black military-style uniform with gold trim, tall collared jacket, slim waist, beautiful refined appearance, well-defined facial contours, kneeling, on one knee, head snapped to the side, red slap mark on cheek, stinging cheek, submissive demeanor, lowered gaze, dazed half-closed eyes, flushed face, trembling, beautiful female ninja, female ninja, dark navy shinobi shozoku wrap, cloth mask pulled down under the chin, black hair tied back in a high ponytail, slender athletic build, standing over him, leaning in, alternating backhand and open-palm slaps, swinging arm, motion blur on the slapping hand, dominant, cold narrowed eyes, open mouth mid-shout, honmaru interior, wooden veranda, shoji screens, tatami floor, night, paper lantern, dutch angle, cowboy shot, looking at another, from below, cinematic lighting, motion lines The camera looks up from floor level at a low dutch angle across the honmaru's wooden veranda at night, so the kneeling figure reads small and the standing woman reads towering. Shokudaikiri Mitsutada kneels on both knees on the worn tatami at the veranda's edge, hips sunk back on his heels, spine curved forward, shoulders drawn in; his left hand grips his own thigh, knuckles pale, the right hand hangs loose and open at his side, unresisting. His head is snapped to his left, chin thrown by the blow, cheek stinging red from the previous strike, one yellow eye half-lidded and unfocused, the other covered by the black eyepatch strap running back through his short black hair; his lips are parted on a shallow breath and his jaw is slack — not fighting back, wanting this. The tall collared dark blue jacket with its gold trim is pulled askew at the shoulder by his slumped posture, and the cinched waist of his uniform sits narrow above his kneeling thighs, the slim waist clear against the wide flare of the coat. Above and to his right, the female ninja in her dark navy shinobi wrap stands with one foot braced forward on the veranda boards, weight driving off her back leg, cloth mask pulled down beneath her chin so her cold narrowed eyes and open, shouting mouth are visible; her right arm is drawn back to her shoulder and swung in, the back of her hand catching his cheek with the motion smeared across it, while her left hand is already gathering at her hip for the returning forehand slap. Her high ponytail whips out behind her with the follow-through and the hem of her wrap snaps outward. Her gaze is locked down onto his face; his half-open eye drifts toward her without focus, the reaction of someone who wants the next blow. Behind them, shoji screens with dark wooden lattice stand cracked open onto the veranda and a single paper lantern on a post throws warm amber light from the upper left, catching the woman's cheekbone and shoulder, streaking the gold trim on his uniform, and leaving the underside of his jaw and the far side of the courtyard in deep indigo shadow; his cast shadow is thrown long across the tatami, distorted by the dutch tilt. The palette is restrained to warm lantern amber, deep indigo night, his uniform's dark blue and gold, and the raw red of the slap marks. A thin line of blood at the corner of his mouth is the only detail that catches the light as it runs down his chin. Tense, humiliating, charged with surrender.
白武遼
AI artwork
白
character: shokudaikiri_mitsutada, copyright: touken_ranbu 2girls, shokudaikiri mitsutada, female ninja, slap, face slap, head jerked to the side, dominant female, submissive male, from below, dutch angle, close-up, honmaru interior, touken ranbu outfit, black military uniform jacket, gold trim, red cord, slender waist, well-defined facial features, beautiful face, short black hair, yellow eyes, eyepatch, gloves, black female ninja bodysuit, tight cloth wraps, hood, half-closed eyes, faint smile, flushed cheeks, impact lines, motion blur on hair Shot from below at a dutch angle, close in on the interior of the honmaru: the wooden veranda corridor of the citadel at night, shoji panels half-open behind them, a paper lantern throwing low warm light from the left, the boards dark and glossy beyond its reach. The male figure stands with his head snapped to his right by the slap, jaw turned, black hair swinging across his brow, eyes shut for the instant of contact, a single tension line at the corner of his mouth, no resistance in his shoulders. His tall black uniform jacket with gold frogging and red cord hangs open at the collar, the belt cinching hard around a narrow waist, gloved hands open and low, one arm loose at his hip — he is leaning into the blow, not away: weight caught on his back foot, chest eased forward, flushed cheek stinging red where the palm lands. The female ninja comes in from his left in a deep body twist, hips ahead of her shoulders, front foot planted inside his stance, whole arm extended through the strike — her gloved palm flat against his cheek, fingers splayed with the impact squashing the skin, the other hand gripping a fistful of his collar to hold him in place. Her charcoal bodysuit and cloth wraps pull tight across the rotating torso, her hood shadowing one eye, the visible one half-lidded and satisfied, mouth curled at one corner as she watches his face give. Loose strands of her hair whip backward with the swing; the lantern light catches her sleeve, the edge of his epaulette and the wet shine of his eye below the eyepatch, and every dark corner of the corridor stays unlit. Palette: black and charcoal uniform cloth against the warm amber lantern and pale straw tatami tones, a single hot red in the cord at his waist and her stinging palm print. Slow, theatrical, quietly charged.
白武遼
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