#almost no one holds funerals for weeds anon

[not-poignant]

hello! thank you for replying to my ask abt finding the enthusiastic consent post. i’d like to ask about your approach towards writing death? whether it’s evolved over the years? the representation of death in media vs your own preferred version in fiction. also! what does death mean to ash glashtyn?

Hi anon!

Those are some huge questions, and I definitely can't answer them all in a lot of detail otherwise I'd be writing a 6,000 word post. So I think we need a cliff notes version or something.

I suppose I'd first say there's a lot of different kinds of deaths, and a lot of different ways to feel about it. So I can't give you a neat answer because my approach to writing death is 'treat every situation as unique' and not some kind of unified approach?

I don't even treat it with the same level of respect every time, depending on whether the death is a character we've never gotten to know, vs. if it is one we have, vs. (in the case of murder) how the character doing the character feels about it, vs. whether the character dying is a villain or a hero or neither. How I approach Augus hunting vs. Gwyn killing the otterkind family vs. Mikkel dying were all extremely different. There's no...similarities between them re: how I thought about them!

Therefore, I don't know whether that's something that's evolved over the years. The fact is, I don't sit there thinking 'what's my approach to writing death' before writing it, I just write it. I know I'm influenced by the many books I've read and philosophies I've read and more, but I don't have rules about it or anything like that. I just try and write it with the weight it deserves in the moment. Sometimes, that's no weight at all. Sometimes it's with a great deal of lasting gravitas. Death is ordinary and profound depending on who it's impacting, why, and how folks are thinking about it. And that's the same as with everything ordinary and profound (like sex, and people being born, and everything in between).

the representation of death in media vs your own preferred version in fiction

Tbh idk! There is no unified, universal way of 'representing death in the media.' It changes! It changes within the same series! How Scrubs wrote death in its media depended on the characters being impacted and the point of it! Sometimes it was comical and mundane, sometimes it would have you weeping, there's no such thing as a unified representation of 'death in the media' and I don't have a 'preferred version' in fiction. I have written mundane death, unimportant death, ugly death, grotesque death, meaningful death, profound death. And as with everything, it just depends on what that part of the story calls for.

I would also say quite honestly I don't really care about how I represent it that much. Like, I care as much about it as I do about any part of my writing. It's not a core reason behind why I write and it's not crucial or fundamental or really important in many of my stories. Like, it's not that 'I don't care' - but I'm not researching death and the symbolism of death the way I'm researching trauma and trauma recovery, anon. I have only ever bought one book on death. I have bought over 50 on trauma.

(For those curious about death narratives in general, I highly, highly recommend the series Six Feet Under, which was quite ahead of its time across a few different areas, but is one of the best shows - hands down - for the many different ways we can look at death, and the many different things it can mean to us, from nothing, to everything).

what does death mean to ash glashtyn?

You're not gonna like this anon, because my answer is going to be 'see above.'

As in, it depends! How Ash feels about his own death changes over time. How he feels about the deaths of others depends on who it is that's dying, and his connection to that person, and that will also not be static and going to change over time!

I don't actually know of anyone who always sees death the same way, of every person, all the time, always. That doesn't mean people like that aren't out there! But generally speaking how someone feels about the death of say, weeds they're pulling out of the garden, is going to be very different to their own death, the concept of death, and the death of their loved ones. We are often negotiating our relationship with death, from the moments we don't negotiate it at all because we deem the death/s insignificant (people killing cockroaches come to mind, or people not thinking about the creatures in their back garden dying every second), to the moments we deem it significant because of the person's closeness to the person or creature (or plant or object) that has died.

The ordinary/profound things in life just require a natural fluidity, because they're not static even though they're ever-present. I can't pin any single thing down on the page, anon, because there are an infinite number of ways to respond to and think about death, and an infinite number of ways for the mass media to conceptualise it, and for folks like me to write it.

I have no rules, I have no single approach. Sometimes it matters, sometimes it doesn't. It's...very...not something I can pin down, I'm afraid!

[grandthorkiday]

Mob AU “Playthings” Part 24

[Link to mob!au anon’s “Playthings" fic tag]

[Start at Part 1]*

(*Note: Link is editable for other parts, just change the number. For mobile users, tag is “playthings part1”)

Note from @loxxxlay: MOB ANON HAS REVEALED THEMSELVES!! They are @red-shadow-wolf-19 and they have plans to write more Grandthorki in the future! Go follow them for more of their fics <3

They dragged him out of the bedroom when it was announced on the news the next morning. He knelt in front of the large flat screen, amongst the games controllers that had been his brother’s solice, and watched as the a newscaster said in a sympathetic but efficient manner, “Thor Valhalla was found this morning in critical condition after what appears to be an assault. He was rushed to a hospital but pronounced dead on arrival. He was thirty two.”

“The Brat is dead! Long live the Brat!” Mario crowed, and the crew laughed.

Gast used one finger to lift Loki’s face to his. “You always have your exit strategy, sweetheart. Remember?” He said it almost kindly.

“M-may I go back to the bedroom?”

Back away from the crew and stares, Loki bent over the toilet and threw up in peace. He sobbed into the tile floor, aware that no one this time would come in and stroke his hair or hold him or sing some stupid song from their childhood. It was just him now.

They next day, they dragged him out again. This time because he had to cook breakfast. Life goes on.

Gast began making the rounds on the radio shows, calling in to dramatically cry about the death of one of his lost soulmates. He kept Loki in his lap, hugging him close like a stuffed animal. Occasionally the host would ask after the brunette. Grandmaster’s eyes would flick up to his, and he would politely look away. “In no fit state to talk to anyone, sadly.”

Naturally, that really wasn’t the case. Around three o'clock, Loki found a phone being shoved in his face as he laid on the bed.

“Call the hospital. Tell them you want the body. You can do that, you’re family.” There was an emphasis on ‘family’ that made his skin crawl, but he took the phone and did as he was told. Thor had told him to be good.

[read more cut]

The hospital, unfortunately, was making it difficult. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Valhalla, but Mr. Thor Valhalla’s body was released to your Father already. You will have to speak to him and your sister. I am so sorry for your loss.”

“I-I am his…,” he could barely say the words. He’d wanted to scream them for the last six to seven years, and now he barely had the energy to form a syllable.

“I’m so sorry.”

When he hung up and explained the situation, the slap to the face was almost welcome. “Call your sister! I want his body!”

Thor would have cheekily asked why he hadn’t kept it. He would have couched it as a light-hearted question. Loki simply dialled from memory Hela’s number and said nothing.

“I want Thor’s body,” he said with preamble once she answered the phone.

“Oh, Loki! I-”

“Please, Hela. I want to bury him. We-” he glanced at Gast who looked back at him expectantly, “we want to bury him.”

“After he-”

“He’s my husband, Hela…we got married. Did you know that? I’m legally allowed to have a say over what happens to his…remains.”

“I know, Loki. He told us.”

Loki took a shakey breath, the painful reminder of why Thor wasn’t there twisting in gut like a knife. “Hela, don’t make me fight you in court. Don’t make him fight you. Please, right now…”

“Daddy wants to bury Thor too.” It was said quickly, cutting him off.

“Near Mom?” he couldn’t help the hope that entered his voice.

“N-no. Um…he’s having Thor cremated and buried in another plot.” There was a quick and muffled dialogue on the other end of the phone before she came back. “I suppose we could um…share….him. Split the ashes.”

Loki felt like vomiting again. “Split the ashes?” He glanced at the Grandmaster who shrugged and nodded his assent. “O-okay.”

They arranged when he would come to pick up the ashes. Hela tried to invite him to their private funeral service, but he hung up on her instead. He had to be good. He had to survive. Grandmaster kissed his forehead and tucked him into bed for that.

That’s when he brought 'the trophy’ out. Loki nearly screamed and fled the bedroom, but he forced himself to remain where he was. The older man placed the glass container of strange viscous liquid on the bedside counter. The blue iris of Thor’s eye looked unreal and otherworldly, the veins and disconnected tissue floating out like tentacles or rays of lightning. Loki looked at it in morbid fascination.

“I said, it was his best feature,” Gast said simply, running a finger down the side of the glass.

“Yes.”

“Well one of his best features. But you can’t persevere an ass.”

“That’s why you called him Sparkles. Because of his eyes.”

“It’s not like he shot lightning or something.”

“May I keep his things? At least his drawings?”

“I guess. But keep them somewhere neat. I don’t want them everywhere,” he reached over and laid out three more items: a needle, a small bag of blue crystals, and a lighter. He left, without another word as Loki took them.

~2020~

He honestly couldn’t remember clearly the last few months. He remembered the funeral. Gast had made an emotional fifteen minute eulogy before bringing him to the front of the packed church to speak. He stood at the lectern, stuttering out something unintelligible before breaking down into sobs at the sight of the blown up picture of Thor. He had been gathered into the Grandmaster’s embrace, though they didn’t leave the altar. The cameras and the world needed to see him.

After that, his life was series of color and moments of sobriety. He tried to stay away from harder stuff, keeping mostly to alcohol and weed, but Gast kept giving him the crystals when he got 'too weepy’. He now slept and lived permanently in the master bedroom. He didn’t have to cook much anymore, mostly because no one trusted him around a stove. But he was good. Perfect. So they couldn’t complain.

Sometimes, he could forget everything. Gast would hold him in his lap during one of the numerous meetings, and Loki would simply exist, as though he had been willed into being just to please this man. Then, he would catch sight of the bar, or maybe something would brush across his cheek and it would come all crashing back. He would hug the man closer, for there was no one else he was allowed to touch anymore, and he would be given a glass of alcohol to keep quiet.

“My poor Lo Lo. All alone now.” He forgets when this was said to him exactly, but the ridiculous sweater he remembers Gast wearing made him think of Christmas. “Maybe I should get you a buddy. An itsy bitsy friend?”

He remembers the tablet being pushed into his face so he could stare at a Facebook page. The kid barely looked out of high school, standing in his board shorts and tank top, his brown hair being picked up by a breeze. He had a wide innocent smile as showed off a farmer’s tan. The photo was posted by Peter Parker, with a caption 'this boi thirsty! For lemonade it’s hooooott’ followed by a confusing jumble of emojis.

Loki had felt his stomach twist and an emotion akin to jealousy and guilt with a twinge of nostalgia settle there. But he was good. Perfect. So he had said as brightly as possible, “He’s cute!”

“I knew you would like him!” Grandmaster had cooed, as though he had picked out a puppy. He had kissed Loki so sweetly, again he almost forget everything. Even Thor’s eye still on the bedside counter.

Loki was slightly drunk when the police finally came to arrest the Grandmaster. They had been expected, but late. To the mobster’s delight he had made quite a scene. They had been at a restaurant, watching Peter, Loki still stalling the inevitable when they had came, led by Bruce Banner. He had tried to scratch the cuffs away and nearly punched Bruce’s face. To the man’s credit, he had been very gentle and guided him back to his seat before continuing. Gast naturally was home the next day, already gloating.

This time the DA did not push for a gag order. They seemed rather unconcerned with what the Grandmaster said or did. And he took full advantage of that fact.

“We’re still mourning our Thor and they do this! After his family would not come to the funeral!”

“Awful,” the interviewer said, shaking her head sympathetically. “Loki, do you have anything to add.”

“Why are they doing this to us? Haven’t…haven’t we lost enough?” He broke down with each word. They didn’t cut away as he choked and sobbed. It made for good television, he supposed.

When they DA announced they had a secret witness, there was a large meeeting in the penthouse about who it was. No one suspected Loki; he rarely left the apartment anymore, and if he could get away with it he stayed mostly in the bedroom. Besides, the secret witness was apparently in protective custody. Anyone who was late or didn’t attend the meeting immediately fell under suspicion and fingers were pointed even at those who showed up early. It was utter chaos. Gast loved it. Loki slipped away to the bedroom with a bottle of wine.

The day of the opening of the trial, Loki was woken up and made to put on the clothes he had worn at the funeral. They were a little too big on him now, he had lost some weight since then, but he still looked impressive. His eyes were bloodshot from all the drinking and drugs, so they gave him a pair of sunglasses.

“Can you even walk a straight line,” Gast asked him mockingly. He could, but his hands shook. They gave him a flask for his pocket and a packet of cigarettes. He didn’t have a wallet or cellphone anymore. He hadn’t since Thor died. All the money under his and his husband’s old mattress had been taken and redistributed to the penthouse crew, except for a hundred dollars which Loki had used for his last solo trip in the city to pick up Thor’s ashes.

The courthouse was packed with the press and the public when they arrived. Gast waved good-humoredly at them as they entered. He made a big production of helping Loki to his seat, kissing and fawning over him. He let the sunglasses dip for a moment so people could see his eyes. Naturally, the press would assume it was because of tears not alcohol. Topaz settled in next to him, a more 'comforting’ figure than Mario.

Stark and Romanov entered, ignoring the press as they went to their table. They spoke in low voices and passed a cellphone and a tablet back and forth between them. Loki didn’t pay attention, keeping his eyes forward on Gast and trying to memorize the New York seal on the judge’s bench.

“All rise!” called the bailiff. The courthouse stood as a small heavily whiskered man soon and settled himself in the high bench. “The Honorable Patel preceding.”

“Sit down,” the judge said, fiddling with papers on his desk as the courthouse sat. “I will hear opening statements. Mr. Stark?”

The ADA stood and spoke very succinctly. They had evidence of weapon trafficking as well as drug trafficking. They also had evidence of sexual and physical assault, and conspiracy to attempt murder. Gast, he explained rather dryly, was a danger to the city and society and had manipulated his way out of justice before. “Hopefully, he won’t this time. With your help,” he concluded, thanking the jury.

Gast’s lawyer stood as soon as Stark sat and began to dramatically recount the last year: the DA’s first attempt to sully the Grandmaster by manipulating his lover, Loki which resulted in Loki’s suicide attempt. The brunette shifted uncomfortably in his seat at being part of this, but he made no move to shield himself from view. Then, he spoke about losing Thor to thugs collecting a gambling debt. Bile rose in his throat at that, but he pushed it down. He was good. Perfect.

“And now, DA is dragging this man and his loved ones back into court not four months after burying his beloved as some sick way to get votes. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have the poor to end this! Listen to the weakness of this case, and then find En Dwi Gast not guilty!” A few people in the gallery clapped, causing the judge to bang his gavel a few times.

“Stark, are you ready to proceed with your secret witness?”

“Already? Blowing your load a little early, aren’t you?” Gast quipped. The gallery laughed. The gavel fell.

“This is not an open mic night. Please refrain from comments. Mr. Stark?”

Tony nodded, dialled a number on his phone and said a few words. A side door opened. The room gasped.

Loki didn’t look at first. He was good. Perfect. But finally when Gast gasped as well, he swiveled his head robotically around. He let out a cry.

Thor stood, supporting himself on a cane and Valkyrie’s arm. He had an eye patch his left eye and his hair had gotten a little longer than the Grandmaster ever let it grow. Every step he made to the witness box was slow and pained, but he barely seemed to care. His one eye found the defense side of the room and he glared with venom at the older man.

Loki’s limbs moved on their own. He stood, knocking over Topaz. By the time the woman had recovered, he had walked out of the gallery. Gast was calling to him, using all the sweet nicknames he had. It made not an ounce of difference. The judge was saying something and the bailiff tried to intercept him but Val had waved him off as Stark shouted to be heard.

He was standing in front of Thor, the sun streaming over them from the high windows. Thor’s expression had softened as he had gotten closer. He was crying now, reaching out to him, stroking his face tenderly like he had the last time they had seen one another. Loki took the hand before launching into his arms, nearly knocking him to the ground.

The brothers held one another for several moments, the courtroom holding their breath as they spoke in hushed and hurried voices. Finally, the younger let go, turning to Stark. He spoke in a watery voice slightly hoarse from months of crying, drinking, and disuse.

“Can I be added to the witness list, too?”

[lovemesomesurveys]

What is the last dream you remember? (describe) I don’t know, they’re always so random and weird. What is something that you fear will happen to you in the future? (Also Why) Let’s not go there please. Describe the best day that you can remember? Disneyland a couple years ago. Describe your worst day? There’s a lot of those, but losing my grandparents and my dog, Brandie, as well as the incident that happened to me that caused my paraplegia are most definitely at the top. When was the last time you had your heartbroken and how did you/are you dealing with it? 3 years ago.

Do you believe in love at first sight? No. What are some of your favorite songs right now? I don’t have a particular current favorite at the moment. I haven’t been listening to music much lately. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Yes. Especially with my mom. When was the last time you cried and what made you cry? Blah. What would your best day look like? I didn’t feel like crap and was on vacation somewhere. Do you ever have reoccurring nightmares? Describe? I have reoccurring negative, horrible thoughts. Who is the last person to text you and what were they talking about? My mom. Do you have a hobby? What is it? Surveys, coloring, reading. Name a fictional place you would like to go? Hmm. What job would you be terrible at and what job would you be good at? I know I couldn’t handle retail. I don’t really feel like I’d be good at anything, though. Have you ever traveled outside of the country? Where? If not, where would you like to go if you could and why? Yeah, I went to Mexico once. I’d love to go to various places in Europe. Do you like animals? Have pets? What kind? Yesss. I have a German Shepherd/Lab mix. <3 Name a subject you would like to study if you had time? I just want to keep up with stuff in the psychology world. Like studies and stuff. What criminal (dead or alive) would you like to sit down and talk to and why? Uh, none. It’s interesting from a psychological standpoint, but I’d be too scared. What are some small things that make your day better? I always like my first cup of coffee each day. If you are struggling with something right now, what is it? Health stuff and just...life. If you watch television what shows are your favorite? I have a few. If you could have any power in the world, what would it be and why? Teleportation. I could go anywhere I wanted, whenever I wanted. It’d be great. Has a movie ever made you cry? Which one? I literally sobbed while watching A Fault in our Stars for some reason. I never full on cry over a movie, like I’ll feel sad and tear up, but never bawl like I did that time. It was wild. If you read books, what are you reading now? I started one like 3 months ago that I need to finish. I go through spurts with reading where I’ll read a lot of books back to back and then go awhile without reading. I need to start up again. Do you think that forgiveness is mandatory to move on from something? I think it has a hold on you otherwise. Forgiving doesn’t have to mean that what the person did was okay, but that you’re deciding not to let it weigh on you anymore. If you could be a dictator on an island, what kind of crazy “dictator” rules would you put in place? I don’t want to be a crazy dictator. Do you believe in the death penalty? I’m not completely sure where I stand on that. What is something you want to do but are scared of actually doing it? A lot of things. How old are you? 29. What job would you like to do if you could do anything? I don’t know. What are some weird habits or “quirks” do you have? A lot I feel like. Certain things when it comes to eating for one, but I think I’m just weird in general. Name three things you would buy if you had the money to buy them? Plane tickets and travel expenses for my family and I to go somewhere of our choosing. Are you in a relationship right now? If so, do you think it’s a healthy one? I’m single. (Follow up) If it’s unhealthy, what makes it that way? Would you ever date someone long distance? I don’t think so. Name a person that you can’t stand and tell us why? No one I know personally. What group do you hate the most on Tumblr and why? I don’t hate anyone. What would you like people to say about you at your funeral? I don’t want to think about that. What is the meanest thing you have ever done to someone, and why? Abandon my friends and be a shitty friend. They didn’t do anything to deserve that. Have you ever sent anon hate to someone? No. If you could write a book, what would it be about? I wouldn’t. What is something you would never do? Uhhh. If you could make one rule that everyone had to follow, what would it be? Don’t harm anyone. Are you addicted to anything and if you are what is it? Coffee and internet. And my pain medication, which is what you’d expect to happen when you’ve taken it as long as I have. My body has definitely become dependent on it. What bad habits would you like to break? So many... What is the scariest monster you could imagine? Ew I don’t even want to think about that. What would you do if you were going to die in three hours? I wouldn’t make use of that time in a good way, I’d be too upset, scared, and freaked out. I’d surround myself with my loved ones but I wouldn’t be thinking straight. If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? Nah. After almost 30 years now, I think I’ll keep this one. Describe your perfect partner Patient, understanding, kind, good sense of humor. What is a personality trait that you love about yourself? I like my sense of humor. Do you have an irrational fear? What is it? Yeah, a few Who is someone in your life that you can turn to when no one else understands? I don’t really feel like anyone understands. Do you believe in Aliens? I don’t know. If you could star in a movie, what kind of movie would it be? Nah. In your opinion what is something horrible everyone should try once? Uh why would I recommend trying something I thought was horrible? What is the hardest lesson that you have ever learned? I still have a lot to learn. What mistake do you keep making over and over again? Health related things and not doing certain things that I should be doing. What do you hate about this website? I don’t have any issues with it, personally. Do you judge people before you get to know them and why? I think we all do in some way. What would be your spirit animal and why? Sloth. If you could have a video of one event in your life, what would the video be? Stuff from my childhood. We have some home videos, but I’d like more. Especially from when I was a baby. What is the most illegal thing you have ever done? Weed. It’s legal now where I live, though. What drugs have you tried, and if none, would you try something? What? Weed, Vicodin, Oxycodone, Morphine, and Xanax. Do you have children? Or want them if you don’t? No. If you could date a movie star, would you and who? Alexander Skarsgard. People in the past were buried with things that were important to them, what would you be buried with? I’d be cremated, so. What is something you are against, but find yourself doing anyway? Uhhh. What was the last photo that you took? Of the fire in our fireplace because my dad found some thing at the store that you can put into the fire and it makes it change colors. It was cool. What makes you roll your eyes every time you hear it? Anything Trump related. If you could get away with murder would you do? Who would you murder and why? Absolutely not. I’m not a murderer. What mythical creature do you wish existed and why? Fairies. What did you think was cool when you were younger? Barbies. Do you think you are a good person? Why or why not? I try to be. I don’t feel like I’ve been a good person the past couple years, though. :/ If magic was real what spell would you learn first? I don’t want to mess with magic. What is the most interesting documentary have you watched? There’s been plenty. What was the last song you sung the lyrics to? I don’t remember. What are your favorite lyrics from a song? Too many of those. What language would you like to speak if you could? I’d like to be fluent in Spanish. Who do you wish you could back into contact with and why did you stop in the first place? Ty. Have you ever hit someone? Who and why? Only playfully. What do you think they should teach in school that they don’t Hmm.