first zine completed, and being prepped for printing. happy to send this one off given it was started last August and has a lot of ghosts with it.
I was listening to an old favorite song from the soundtrack of the Brave Little Toaster and it makes me think about the type of horror that I love. Not as a genre, but the undercurrent you sometimes sense in certain media. Not even as a scene, scare, plot beat, or tacky symbolism - it's a subtle peculiar lived-in horror of the id that's most potent through poetry or lyrics. That sing-song (silent scream) aching familiarity you sometimes feel in your bones and makes old skeletons rattle.
That movie and Hellsing has a lot in common there.
dedicated to @lesmismignon and the absolutely amazing way they write AxI in the treasure trove of their fics. ♥
( Satis, Snow White, Pushing Dasies, and Threnody, for easy linkage of some. Go read them.)
For @justinrelinaleinc who was amazingly helpful in tracking down overseas artbooks! ♥
(Also wow, I’m digging this crackship.)
There was a quiet routine that Seras had grown to apprciate, after Millenium’s devestating attack on London. Scalding tea was shared during the crisp dawns, reconstruction was done throughout the day, and - only sometimes - there was a visit to Integra in her study late into the nights. She had once quietly mentioned that Seras was free to leave the organization if she wanted, but in truth: Hellsing had become Seras’ home. And more – Integra had become her family. Seras worried about her, at times, unobtrusively. Integra had joined the ranks of many that was not easily released from duty, or from dark dreams at night. Instead of fussing over the traumas of the past days like many in the service of London’s other bluebloods were wont to do, she kept a watchful eye, and a welcoming hand. And from the the soft smile Seras recieved at times, it was an effort not in vain.