corpserites

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i technically made a solo blog for jason ( @streetc-red ) i'm just iffy about using it

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Twin Peaks (1990-1991) / “The Unified Theory of Ophelia: On Women, Writing, and Mental Illness”, B.N. Harrison

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am always obsessed when someone says to a character “call off your dog” about another character.

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your mama's waiting for ya / but you're not coming home / you're not coming home

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⠀⠀⠀HE THINKS HE KNOWS WHO SHE IS NOW. julia shimotori. jason remembers reading case files about this while snooping through bruce's database, memorizing names and faces just for the sake of knowing things like his dad. back when he was going by robin instead of red hood. morbid curiosity getting the best of him, muddy memories of the gore and viscera in the extensive collection of police photography, indistinct echoes of the discomfort and nausea he felt flipping through articles and clips of news reports. he fidgets as she speaks, listens but doesn't look, tearing a napkin into thin strips to keep idle hands busy.

⠀⠀⠀there is an angry little bird, one long-dead somewhere within him, that envies her and the chance she got to save herself. in a shocking ⠀( albeit not impossible, he has class when he wants to make use of it )⠀display of tact, he doesn't tell her she should be proud of herself and what she accomplished when she killed that man.

⠀⠀⠀instead, hood waits a moment, in case she has more to say. then:⠀"i'm sorry you had to do that on your own,"⠀another beat.⠀"... that you had to do it at all. that sucks."

OF COURSE JULIA COULD DIE. She was very, very young when she had to accept that near-death experiences are going to happen whether you're seeking them out or not. (Because Julia did not seek out the wolf. Julia did not do anything wrong. She didn't do anything wrong.)

Being in control of her own life isn't something Julia accepts as a natural fact. She has to work to earn that autonomy, that strength; she isn't simply entitled to it. So she knows that what she's getting into is dangerous. She also knows it's her choice entirely to dive deep into Red Hood's world of violence, brutality, and dubious legality.

As long as she proves herself first, of course. (He hasn't left or said fuck no/fuck off yet. She has a chance—a possibility to make something of her going-nowhere, meaningless life, and she has so much to give!)

"My parents died when I was really little," Let's brush past that, "And I moved in with my grandmother so she could take care of me. Her health was—her health wasn't the greatest, and she ended up with a nurse who stayed with us, you know, constantly."

If he wants the gritty details, he'll ask for them. She's not looking up to gauge how interested he is, anyways. It's too difficult.

"He was a monster. Honestly. I don't know what else to call him, even now. My grandmother got sicker, and I kind of depended on him for my own wellbeing, I was in third grade, you know?—he was making her sick. My grandmother. He wanted to be—he wanted me isolated."

She closes her eyes. He could be checking that stupid watch, for all she cares. The floodgates have opened.

"After school one day, I caught him right in the middle of murdering my grandmother. I couldn't stop him; I ran. So he—he tried to attack me." To devour her whole, evil and, as she said, monstrous. "But I was a pretty self-sufficient kid, right? Considering everything. I knew where we kept the knives, for cooking, if only because I was never supposed to touch them. I didn't have a choice.—the whole thing was in the news, for awhile. The government, the reporters—they did a pretty good job of telling everybody what happened to his body."

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(perverse, predatory, manipulative voice) Hello 

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@vitalphenomena — JULIA said:⠀don't tell me how to drive you bitch!

⠀⠀⠀"THEN DRIVE LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING!"

⠀⠀⠀incredibly helpful to be an antagonistic dick in the middle of what some would call a crisis, jason! very good! she may or may not get an apology for that later — stay tuned.

⠀⠀⠀"just— jesus christ, try not to throw me out of the fuckin' car, a'right?"⠀his voice is distorted by a modulator about mid-sentence as he fits his red helm back over his head and yanks a weighty, modified pistol from one of the holsters strapped to his thigh. this day was supposed to be easy. easy breezy beautiful. bunch of fucking bullshit, he'll grumble later. he'll swear to god he's not trying to get her killed by arm's dealers already, that he was being an ass to keep them both safe. he's going to look like a liar.

⠀⠀⠀he checks the contents of the gun's loading chamber and grunts, dissatisfied. pissed, frankly. he releases the old magazine and pops a fresh one in with practiced ease. there is only a fraction of a second between a glance out back through the remains of the rear window to get an eye on their assailants, and when he pivots to perch himself halfway out of the passenger side window and start shooting.

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close-up views of various kinds of pathology affecting the tissues of the human heart

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the last day i saw him

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Paul Mescal as Harry All of Us Strangers, Dir. Andrew Haigh (2023)

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Casually dropping his hyper fixation into the convo so he’s forced to talk to me for another hour

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⠀⠀⠀"...THAT SNIFFER OF YOURS GETTIN' A WHIFF OF ANYTHIN' NOW, THEN?"

⠀⠀⠀he watches the kid toy with his lighter and a vaguely big-brotherly part of him questions why he has it, whether mutt should be playing with fire — but only for a second, before he decides it isn't any of his business. jason started smoking —never mind fucking around with lighters — when he was twelve. he's got no room to say shit. besides, the way he sees it, chances are it's just a keepsake. he still has his father's zippo, one he got from his father, and so on. it's been out of lighter fluid for years. he almost asks about mutt's.

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mutt fidgets with his zippo, scuffed gunmetal grey with a faded ace on the front. flame, extinguish, flame, extinguish—this continues until he finally snaps it closed, the noise sharp with finality. like it took a finger with it.

"i've seen enough evil in men to smell it on the ones who try to hide it inside."

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jason, concussed and trying to stay conscious after a run-in with killer croc:

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Entity of pure hate and malice just did a cute pose and made heart hands after killing everyone in its path

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julie buntin // andrew collins // zen cho // jonathan sims // john banville // nobodysflower // unknown // jennifer s cheng

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⠀⠀⠀HE REFRAINS FROM REMINDING HER SHE COULD DIE, TOO. it feels redundant, and he would like to think it's something she considered before she came stomping into the diner to corner him in a booth. he thinks anyone who would come to him specifically for something like this would have done their research. they would know that. he doesn't really care. it's her funeral.

⠀⠀⠀jason stays leant over the table for a moment longer, head cocked to the side and lips pursed, looking at her long and hard. again, trying to decide from her face alone whether this is some kind of joke or not before he slumps back into his seat, sighing. a glance spared down at the device on his wrist, something like a smart watch with a few more bells and whistles, fitted to the cuff of his glove. no new notifications and no excuses to get up and leave. he could lie, make up a story and do it anyway.

⠀⠀⠀a light flickers dimly up above.

⠀⠀⠀"alright,"⠀ he concedes, gaze shifting back to julia, ⠀"i assume you'd like to tell me about that." ⠀to prove yourself, or whatever.

HOLY SHIT. Did the guy who's kinda made a whole thing out of being difficult, edgy, and obstinate just acknowledge that Julia made a good point? She can't help but preen. She doesn't have to known Jason or the Hood well to know that such a concession comes sparsely.

She watches his attempts to self-regulate—attempts that seem to reveal not only his violence, but also his resilience in a fight. He knows what this takes, and he probably has the scars to prove it. Julia herself only has the sort of scars that a psychotherapist handles. She's yet to do the sort of work that the Red Hood does—but she sure as shit isn't shying away from it. From training. Whatever the hell all of that entails.

"If you had me," she counters, incredibly forward with her intentions, "Less of those kids would end up experiencing things nobody should ever have to experience. That's just basic math, basic probability," she reasons, partially trying to convince herself.

"You know, speaking of kids, of being a kid—I did something back when I was that age, too." Something that proves she's capable of this. Some Little Reds never get saved by the woodsman, you know?

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hanging from the meat hook all by yourself, handsome?