Contributor Spotlight # 2
As we launch into our creation period, we’d like the chance for you to get to know the creators and contributors involved in making this zine happen. For that reason, we will be posting bi-weekly Contributor Spotlights, which will showcase the past works of Limitless Zine contributors.
They’re all amazing creators with amazing talent, so please show them your support!
✽✽ Ryn
@midorimashintarous | Twitter | Ao3
“While a multishipper, she has always had a particular penchant for antagonistic pairings, and KiyoHana is her ultimate OTP. She is excited to be a part of Limitless, among so many amazing contributors!”
The man is playing poker at one of the high-stakes tables, neither halfway focused nor pinned to the game in concentration. A regular, then. A wan light, thin with fluorescence, flattens the table and the players and the floor into hints of red. Another player lays down a four-of-a-kind and the man’s face twitches in irritation. It’s a sharp visage, bordering on cruel, slicing in intelligence. A moment, expanding between them; Teppei leans into it, barely breathing, and the man shows his own hand.
It’s a straight flush.
The laugh that follows sings up Teppei’s spine, cello-rich and shaded with something like real delight, and he approaches the table, pulled in by recklessness and someone else’s luck. He’s met with a grin; the man is pulling chips towards him by the handful, careful to corral any strays with a flick of his ring finger. Teppei wants to do the same. He keeps his hands in his pockets and presses his thumbs against the seams.
“Hey there, big guy.”
The man leans back; tosses his head so the lock of hair hanging low on his forehead sweeps to one side. His eyes trace the contours of Teppei’s frame.
Time isn’t something you tell in a place like this, shadows crowding the edge of the game table; seven looks the same from either side of the day. Teppei slides into the seat next to him and allows his face to move into a wide smile that promises something soft, inattentive. “What are we playing for?”
The man snorts, irritation on his face warring with the rush of the challenge. “Whatever.”
It’s refreshing, not having to hold back.
— Excerpt from The Ire and the Marrow [AO3]
