Random Fanart
I like it, it’s…. different…
Picture information
Description:
About: Okay,so another one inspired by music, Playlist can be found Here.
Fic/Idea I probably will never write that kidna inspired this:
‘Of all the clubs, in all the towns, he had to walk into mine,’ she thought as she eyed the silver haired male who’s solar lit lamps devoured her every move on stage. Kagome knew it was cliché but it was more then a bit ironic that he would find hers, she had gone out of her way to forget the past, forget being a miko, forget the shikon, and forget Japan.
Fate had not be kind to her, no, not at all. Sending her five hundred years into the past, to fall in love with one that could not ever want her just as herself, to live and nearly die for him, and them all. Then, in the end after making herself a home in that time, she’d been ripped away from it, and nearly made to feel like she was the crazy one, when in the end, in this time, it had never happened.
Her miko powers and her Jiji were the only things that both proved it had been true, and were proof. He, the crazy one, had been the one to remember it, though she was certain that Souta had dreams, he refuses to speak about it. Her mother? Well the miko could honestly say that she had been far more open in the original time line she’d lived. In the end, Kagome had gotten through middle and high school wonderfully without being pulled into the past.
She had opted though to get far away from Trees that spanned generations, torii gates, and anything and everything that could remind her of the past. She was so very far away, in New York City, in college on a scholarship. And here her part time job, where she sang and waitresses tables, he, Sesshomaru, figment of her imagination, ghost from her past had to walk into her club.
In her musing the song had ended, her sultry voice, aged and husky like a fine wine, had continued even when her brain had been hijacked by this impossibly, human looking being that was anything but. She noted with awe and shock that his once long tresses were gone, given way like all things to change, sporting something that was more preppy then she thought he could pull off, he did look damn good.
Turning her own head full of missing locks, locks that had been removed so that she would NEVER EVER look like Kikyo again, her pixie cute suited her well. There was just enough to grab on to, not that she knew that that was the thought on the inu’s mind. The once miko turned back to her pianist, and his small jazz band, her murmured words were washed away in the small hum of the club.
Stunning steely grey-blue eyes that had seen far too much in a life so short sparkled as the band kicked up, the grin she shot him was naughty, mischievous, and dangerous, he didn’t think she had it in her, and then he realized the song she had requisitioned. Sesshomaru smirked as she cast her lunar eyes on his person.
“He’s a tramp, ...but I love him... breaks a new heart...every day. He’s a tramp, I adore him…. And I only hope he’ll stay that way….”
~
The evening had been amusing, and Sesshomaru had been amused by her, she had grown from a girl into a woman, a woman that he had managed to talk up to his hotel room. Her innocent scent still clung to her form, even after all this time, he was somewhat shocked that his idiot brother had not truly claimed her. But in the end it was for the best, after all… She had it right to some degree when she had sang about him. Cutting through his thoughts, he held her as her fingers ghosted over his chopped mane.
“I like it, it’s…. different…” Her voice was honey, the Five hundred year old wiser dai only smirked. He might be a tramp as she called him, but, he wouldn’t have it any other way, so long as she was his lady, he could over look her name calling.
About…Somemore: Yeah well… I chopped off BOTH their heads of hair! Take that! So anyone, same deal, if you want to color, cool beans, please comment before hand, please do not use this for anything else without my okay, and…. Have fun!
Kagome/Sesshomaru©Rumiko Takahashi
Art by r0o
2nd quarter arts.
Fic/Idea I probably will never write that kidna inspired this:
‘Of all the clubs, in all the towns, he had to walk into mine,’ she thought as she eyed the silver haired male who’s solar lit lamps devoured her every move on stage. Kagome knew it was cliché but it was more then a bit ironic that he would find hers, she had gone out of her way to forget the past, forget being a miko, forget the shikon, and forget Japan.
Fate had not be kind to her, no, not at all. Sending her five hundred years into the past, to fall in love with one that could not ever want her just as herself, to live and nearly die for him, and them all. Then, in the end after making herself a home in that time, she’d been ripped away from it, and nearly made to feel like she was the crazy one, when in the end, in this time, it had never happened.
Her miko powers and her Jiji were the only things that both proved it had been true, and were proof. He, the crazy one, had been the one to remember it, though she was certain that Souta had dreams, he refuses to speak about it. Her mother? Well the miko could honestly say that she had been far more open in the original time line she’d lived. In the end, Kagome had gotten through middle and high school wonderfully without being pulled into the past.
She had opted though to get far away from Trees that spanned generations, torii gates, and anything and everything that could remind her of the past. She was so very far away, in New York City, in college on a scholarship. And here her part time job, where she sang and waitresses tables, he, Sesshomaru, figment of her imagination, ghost from her past had to walk into her club.
In her musing the song had ended, her sultry voice, aged and husky like a fine wine, had continued even when her brain had been hijacked by this impossibly, human looking being that was anything but. She noted with awe and shock that his once long tresses were gone, given way like all things to change, sporting something that was more preppy then she thought he could pull off, he did look damn good.
Turning her own head full of missing locks, locks that had been removed so that she would NEVER EVER look like Kikyo again, her pixie cute suited her well. There was just enough to grab on to, not that she knew that that was the thought on the inu’s mind. The once miko turned back to her pianist, and his small jazz band, her murmured words were washed away in the small hum of the club.
Stunning steely grey-blue eyes that had seen far too much in a life so short sparkled as the band kicked up, the grin she shot him was naughty, mischievous, and dangerous, he didn’t think she had it in her, and then he realized the song she had requisitioned. Sesshomaru smirked as she cast her lunar eyes on his person.
“He’s a tramp, ...but I love him... breaks a new heart...every day. He’s a tramp, I adore him…. And I only hope he’ll stay that way….”
~
The evening had been amusing, and Sesshomaru had been amused by her, she had grown from a girl into a woman, a woman that he had managed to talk up to his hotel room. Her innocent scent still clung to her form, even after all this time, he was somewhat shocked that his idiot brother had not truly claimed her. But in the end it was for the best, after all… She had it right to some degree when she had sang about him. Cutting through his thoughts, he held her as her fingers ghosted over his chopped mane.
“I like it, it’s…. different…” Her voice was honey, the Five hundred year old wiser dai only smirked. He might be a tramp as she called him, but, he wouldn’t have it any other way, so long as she was his lady, he could over look her name calling.
About…Somemore: Yeah well… I chopped off BOTH their heads of hair! Take that! So anyone, same deal, if you want to color, cool beans, please comment before hand, please do not use this for anything else without my okay, and…. Have fun!
Kagome/Sesshomaru©Rumiko Takahashi
Art by r0o
2nd quarter arts.
Date:
15.04.2011 12:56:49
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Comments
As for the picture, it is very lovely too. I like the way the folds and drapes sculpt their clothing along the lines of their bodies. It looks very real and the picture is beautiful even without colour.