shimadazine:At last here is the list of contributors for the Shimada Brothers Zine - working title,
shimadazine:At last here is the list of contributors for the Shimada Brothers Zine - working title, Dragon’s Blood. Below is the list of authors with excerpts from their work.Thank you so much to everyone who applied for this zine, and I am very happy to present these 27 amazing artists and 7 amazing authors! I will be posting little featurettes about our lovely contributors in the coming weeks and months, so look out for that! Until then, do visit their blogs and give them some love!- ARTISTS -7CLUBS // addislillywoo // amb // bbee // birdystark // browsdraws // cairo // clara saliz // cuteskitty // dunesand // gabberstagged // giza // glassflesh // ignacia // joanne kwan // karshmallow // lgions // marshyoftheblobs // moxis // novalillies // orla // pandaleon // shana // sojmilk // suklaasiili // tobi // volf- AUTHORS -If the world had been underwater and slow-motion before, the wave crashed over Hanzo’s head then. He fought down a scream and only made a strangled cry as Lena shoved Genji’s katana back toward the cyborg, then started shepherding them both toward the dropship currently making an emergency landing half a block away. It was too loud. His footsteps were too harsh, his vision too bright, and he flinched when Mei and then McCree sprinted into his view from around the corner. Too much, too much. Time came and went in snapshots, roaring all around him, and then the dropship was lifting off and Hanzo was on his knees in the cabin and Genji was—Genji was—Genji was two feet away from him, removing his faceplate like he knew exactly what Hanzo needed, but it wasn’t enough. He was there, he was alive, but that didn’t take the sword out of Hanzo’s hand or the blood out of his gi, and before his brother could try to comfort him he was dry-heaving onto the floor as he choked on a heavy sob. His head was spinning. Genji kept trying to get closer, maybe to comfort him, but Hanzo lurched away from him, wishing he could scream don’t you see, I’m no better than I was ten years ago, I’ll kill you again and I will never, never, never be forgiven!from “Split-Second Decisions” on ao3ALDER’S PROFILE He paused, unsure why he felt the urge to speak his next words, yet he couldn’t swallow them down before they spilled across his lips in a rough whisper. ‘I used to burn incense for Genji, after… afterwards. I burnt it every year on his anniversary. When I smelt it just now, it reminded me of those nights.’ Hanzo fell silent, his eyes lowered to the floor off to the side of Zenyatta’s rug, unable meet his gaze. Zenyatta had been Genji’s teacher, and his friend; he had sewn him back together after Hanzo had sliced him up and left him for dead. He felt a surge of shame speaking of his meagre offerings of regret and mourning to Genji’s memory, while others – strangers – had cared and protected Genji as he should have done for years. ‘Do you wish to sit with me, for a while?’ Zenyatta asked, breaking Hanzo out from the thoughts that began to rise up in his mind in a dark, roiling tidal wave. He blinked, unsure if he heard correctly. Zenyatta shifted to the side, leaving room on the rug for Hanzo to sit. After a moment hesitation, he stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him and sunk down into seiza beside Zenyatta. He bowed his head, curling his hands into fists on his knees as his breathing slowed, dropping into the beginnings of a meditative trance.from “Come to My Senses” on ao3ALUXRA’S PROFILEGenji takes a seat next to Hanzo, nudging him with his shoulder. “When everyone asked what you wanted for your birthday, I immediately said ‘nothing, he does not celebrate and he would not like a gift’, and they nearly pummeled me.” He picks up a bag and hands it to Hanzo. “They clearly do not get your sense of humour. And because it is my goal in life to go against your wishes, this is from me.”Hanzo looks into the bag, eyeing a very expensive looking sake jug and sake cups, and an exact match to his favourite set that he had in Japan. He looks at Genji before pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you, Genji,” he whispers.from “The Surprise” on ao3CHILLIEBEAN’S PROFILEHis family does not give him that liberty. Youta calls his own creature, voice imperial, and it answers as an undercurrent of rotting hatred outlined in sharp red. The summon is huge, like his father’s, easily double the size of his own.Not a heartbeat behind, his cousin cries out. As promised, two whip-thin dragons rise in almost velvet purple, flanking her like hooded vipers.His own summons settle into his skin and his blade, livewire in his muscles.from “Weeds or Wildflowers” on ao3ILYEN’S PROFILEHe looks angry, for a moment, upset that Hanzo had dragged him into the water. Hanzo stares in return, listening to the sounds of the salmon flopping around on the shore as it dies, and cocks a brow. But then abruptly, the hunter starts laughing. “Did you just fucking throw that fish?”And, for the first time, Hanzo feels the beginnings of a smirk crossing his own mouth. It’s a combination of how miserably wet McCree is and the ridiculousness of the situation, but Hanzo stifles a puff of amused breath as best he can, chuckling quietly and reaching out to grab the hat as it passes.from “Bad Moon” on ao3LOUIE’S PROFILEIn his final moments, Genji closed his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but everything including his brain felt too numb to muster any last words. “Yes, it is” would have to do. He felt as though something had lifted him. This is it, he thought. Memories whirled through his head. Running as his older brother Hanzo chased him through the gardens of their childhood. His mother leaving with floating suitcases in tow and never coming back. Listening to his grandfather read poetry aloud during their walks around Hanamura. Sneaking out late at night to the local arcades and climbing through his bedroom window with plush toys in tow. The way Hanzo looked at him with hatred and shame in his eyes the last time they saw each other. He even thought about the way the caravan master smiled at him, oblivious to what he was about to do. Warmth overwhelmed his senses, his brain trying to make him more comfortable as he passed. And finally, he felt nothing.from “Mountain Air” on ao3MANOLO’S PROFILEAnd Genji found himself whispering as he talked, as he wrapped his arms around Zenyatta and rocked him back and forth, though the Omnic could not, would not, fall asleep. He talked through the echoing sobs and the shaking of the metal body, believing he could help his Master like a life companion who had helped Genji in return. from “Pulling My Black Waters” on ao3SIMON’S PROFILE -- source link