#like please i have at least six assignments ive barely started

[arom-antix]

Mmm, that thing when you hyperfixate so hard you fly to Finland to watch the European Championships. Mmmm special interest go brrr

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 1

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 2,300ish

Summary: You begin your intern year at Avengers Medical Center

You let out a little groan as you turned around. You immediately knew you were naked as the cold wood floor sent chills down your bare body. Slowly opening your eyes, you took in your surroundings. You were home, in the house you had just inherited, boxes still pilled high around the living room you were laying in. Suddenly, someone else groaned beside you. You teased, clenching your eyes shut. The headache you had been ignoring since you woke finally broke free and you realized that your late night drunkenness must have caused you to bring a guy home.

You let out a long breath as you reopened your eyes and looked over at the hopefully-still-asleep man beside you. He wasn’t bad looking at all. You had really done well. He was blonde with a chiseled body. He had to have been at least six foot, which didn’t hurt. He was naked though, all out in the open on your living room floor. Cringing, you sat up, pulling one blanket from the couch to quickly cover yourself before standing and pulling one over him. You stood up silently, and began making your way out of the room. It was your first day of your intern year as a doctor, you couldn’t afford to be late.

You successfully made it to the doorway of the living room without a sound before the floorboard beneath you creaked. You should there, frozen, closing your eyes in hopes that the man sleeping behind you wouldn’t wake. You could hear him turn over, letting a small moan out of his mouth. Waiting a few more seconds, you started going again.

“You know…” the man started, clearly in his morning voice, “it’s usually rude to disappear on someone after spending a night with them.”

You quickly spun around to see him, still laying on his stomach, looking up at you with a sly grin.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “it’s my house, so it’s not that rude.”

He stood up, not grabbing the blanket as quick as he should have, letting you have another look at him. When you met his eyes again, it was clear that you had been caught staring and that he was enjoying it.

“Why the rush to silently get out of here?” He asked, tucking the blanket around his waist. “Have a husband or a boyfriend you have to hurry and get ready for?”

“Neither,” you responded, tightening your hold on the blanket covering you. “I’m running late for my first day of work. So, if we’re done here, you should go.”

“We don’t have to be done here.”

“I think we do.” You kicked up his shirt, grabbing it, and throwing him at it. “You need to go.” He caught his shirt, slipping it on slowly over his clear cut abs. “So, um, goodbye… um…”

“Steve,” he reached his hand out.

“Steve. Right,” you shook his hand. “Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He smiled. It almost took your breath away, but you couldn’t let it show.

“Yeah.”

“Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah. Bye, Steve.”

You fled up the stairs, hoping that by the time you were done getting ready, Steve would be gone.

~~~

You made it to the Avengers Medical Center just in time to meet up with the other interns in your year. The Chief of Surgery, Dr. Nicholas J. Fury, was leading a small tour to the ORs. He started talking as the interns took in the OR.

“Each of you comes here hopeful. Wanting in on the game. A month ago you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors,” Fury stated. “The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you.”

He then told each of the interns which resident they were assigned to. You got Dr. Gamora. All of the interns were then taken to the locker room, where each of you were assigned a locker and given scrubs to change into and start your long day.

“Only ten women out of thirty,” you muttered as you slipped your scrubs on.

“Yeah,” the woman with fiery red hair next to you responded. “I heard that one of them was a model. Seriously, like that’s going to help with the respect thing?”

“You’re Natasha, right?”

She nodded. “You’re Y/N?”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“Which resident did you get assigned to? I got Gamora.”

“Me too.”

“You got Gamora?” A male intern repeated beside you. “So did I. At least we’ll all be tortured together, right? I’m Clint Barton, uh, we met at the mixer. You had a dress with a slit up the side, those shiny heels…” You and Natasha exchanged looks. “Now you think I’m gay.”

“Uh-huh,” Natasha hummed, heading out the door.

“No, I’m not gay! It’s, ah, it’s just that, you know, you were, I mean… You were very unforgettable,” Clint rambled as you both followed after Natasha. You shot him a sympathetic smile before hurrying to catch up with Natasha. “And I’m totally forgettable.”

“Barton, L/N, Romanoff, Valkyrie, Lang,” a doctor called at the door way.

“Gamora?” Natasha questioned that doctor that called you.

“End of the hall.”

The five of you that were called began walking. At the end of the hall, you saw a pretty woman working on paperwork. She didn’t look as threatening as you had heard she was.

“That’s Dr. Gamora?” Natasha wondered.

“From what I heard, I thought she’d look scarier,” the other male in your group of five said. You guessed it was Scott Lang.

“Yeah,” Clint agreed. “I thought she’d be… well, bigger.”

“Same,” you added.

“Maybe it’s professional jealousy,” a woman in your group suggested, Valkyrie, you presumed. “Maybe she’s brilliant, and they say things about her because they’re jealous. Maybe she’s really nice.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re the model,” Natasha said.

“Wait…” Clint said, looking at Nat. “I thought you were the model.”

Valkyrie shot Natasha a look before turning to Dr. Gamora with an extended hand. “Hi, I’m Valkyrie, but everyone calls me Val.”

Gamora looked her up and down, not even moving to shake Val’s hand. “I have five rules,” Gamora stated, clearly unimpressed already. “Rule number one, don’t bother sucking up, I already hate all of you, that’s not gonna change.” She turned and pointed to things on the counter. “Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule number two. Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours.” 

Gamora began walking away with you and the others quickly following, after each of you have grabbed the things off the counter. 

“You’re interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain, you run labs, write orders, work every second night till you drop and don’t complain!” She continued. Gamora led you to a door, opening it to reveal a room with bunk beds. “On call rooms. Attendings hog them, sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three, if I'm sleeping, don't wake me, unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there, not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woke me for no good reason, we clear?” There was a brief pause before you nervously raised your hand. “Yes.”

“You said five rules,” you tried to hold back a cringe as you spoke up. “That was only four.”

Suddenly, Gamora’s pager beeped. “Rule number five. When I move, you move.” She ran down the corridor, followed by you and the other interns. “Get out of my way!” She yelled at a few doctor’s blocking the hallway.

You had the others followed Gamora to the ER. There was a bustling trauma room that the six of you entered. There was a young female on the stretcher, already being hooked to the machines.

“What’ve we got?” Gamora asked.

“Savannah Chase, fifteen year old female,” the paramedic still in the room stated. “New onset seizures, intermittent for the past week. ID lost en route. Started gran mal seizing when the ambulance pulled up.”

“Alright, get her on her side, Val, ten milligrams Diazepam.” Val started to do as she was directed while the rest of you watched. “No, no, the white lead is on the right, righty whitey, smoke over fire, a large bore IV. Don’t let the blood haemolyse, let’s go!”

Val injected the young woman with the diazepam and she stopped seizing. A new Doctor entered the room.

“So I heard we got a wet fish on dry land?” The man asked.

“Absolutely Dr. Banner,” Gamora responded.

“Dr. Gamora, I’m gonna shotgun her.”

“That means every test in the book, CT, CBC, chem seven, a tox screen,” Gamora clarified for the interns. “Natasha, you’re on labs, Clint, patient workups, Y/N, get Savannah for a CT, she’s your responsibility now.” Gamora began to walk away.

“Wait,” both Val and Lang called out. Gamora turned back around.

“What about us?” Val asked.

“You two—honey, you get to do rectal exams.”

~~~

You were currently in an elevator with Savannah, the patient, trying to find your way to CT. Since it was your first day at the medical center, you didn’t know where anything was and you were too stubborn to ask.

“You’re lost,” Savannah stated.

“I’m not lost,” you defended. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? I’m missing my pageant.”

“You’re missing your pageant.” You wheeled her out of the elevator and around a corner, still not knowing where you were headed.

“The Manhattan Teen Miss? I was in the top ten after the first two rounds. This is my year. I could’ve won.” Savannah sat up as she was wheeled back around the same way. “Hello? You’re so lost. What are you, like, new?”

“I’m— just tell me what happened.”

“I twisted my ankle. I do rhythmic gymnastics, which is like, really cool. Nobody else does it. And I tripped over my ribbon, and I didn't get stuck with someone this clueless. And that was like, a nurse.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to be over-the-line rude to a patient on your first day. It took you almost another forty five minutes to find CT. You helped her with the scan before taking her back to a room. Before you knew it, it was lunch time. You grabbed some food from the cafeteria, finding your group of interns alone at a table.

“Savannah Chase is a pain in the ass,” you grumbled as you sat down with your tray. “If I hadn't taken the Hippocratic oath, I'd Kevorkian her with my bare hands.” The others around her just stared. “What?”

“Good afternoon interns,” a new doctor came up. “I’m Dr. Maria Hill. It’s posted, but I thought I’d share the good news personally. As you know, the honor of performing the first surgery is reserved for the intern that shows the most promise. As I’m running the OR today, I get to make that choice. I’ve been watching you all and I have to say, you’re all something. The intern I’ve chosen is, Scott Lang.”

Scott coughed up the drink he had been taking. “M-me?” He questioned.

“You’ll scrub in for an appendectomy this afternoon. Congratulations.” Then she left.

“Did she say me?”

“I can’t believe you were chosen over me,” Natasha grumbled. “It’s already clear that I’m a better surgeon that you.”

“Did she say… I’m sorry. What?”

~~~

After lunch, you went back to Savannah’s room to take care of her. As you did, a man and a woman, not doctors, came in.

“Savannah, honey, mom and dad are here,” the woman said, coming over to Savannah’s bedside.

“They gave her a sedative for the CT scan, so she’s a little groggy,” you informed them.

“Will she be alright?” The mother asked.

“Our doctor at home said she might need an operation, is that true?” The father wondered.

“What kind of operation?”

“She’s, um, well, you know what,” you tried your best to sound professional through your nervous stuttering, “I’m not, I’m not the doctor, uh. I am a doctor, but I’m not Savannah’s doctor, so I’ll go get him for you.”

You quickly left the room to go find Gamora. Thankfully, she was at the nurses desk just outside of the room. You hurried over but were too nervous to start speaking.

“What?” Gamora questioned, not looking up from the paperwork she was doing.

“Savannah’s parent’s have questions,” you responded. “Do you talk to them, or do I ask Banner?”

“No, Banner’s off of the case. Savannah belongs to the new attending now, Dr. Rogers, he’s over there.”

You follow in the direction that Gamora gestured to. You only made it a few steps before freezing. The man Gamora gestured to was talking to another doctor. But that wasn’t the reason you froze. Dr. Rogers was none other than your one night stand, Steve. Your eyes widened and you turned to go, but it was too late. Steve glanced your way, having to do a double take. You quickly left, feeling his eyes on the back of you.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

next chapter >

NOTES: Yes, this has been posted before, but I deleted it. I’m trying again. From now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[sineluce-velius-tristitia]

Into the Deep End

Newt didn’t know what possessed him to come.

Maybe it was to see for himself that the most dangerous Dark wizard is properly locked up behind a cage. To assure that the man who had done horrible, despicable things had been properly apprehended; that there was no chance for Gellert Grindelwald to hurt another person.

But it wasn’t because of that.

Righteous, good intentions aside, Newt is terribly curious of this man.

A wizard of great power and influence, of genius and charm that attracts people enough to become his fanatics. A wizard of whose past is intertwined with Albus Dumbledore.

Newt stands there, in the bowels of MACUSA’s holding cells, practicing long acquired skills of stealth to sneak around unnoticed by the guards assigned just for a single—but incredibly dangerous—wizard.

He’d left his creatures with Queenie, not quite trusting but the alternative of leaving his creatures unguarded for any span of time was unbearable. The memory of his case being impounded was still entirely too fresh and a wave of fear at the mere thought made him a bit more paranoid.

Easily getting past the guards, Newt is surprised to find that nothing else is set up as defense. A superficial scan of the wards told him why. They had focused too much on keeping someone in rather than putting just as much effort in keeping unwanted people out. As it stands, Newt wouldn’t have any problems going in as long as he was careful.

It seems finding the cell he wanted wouldn’t be an issue. All the cells are unoccupied except for one.

He stops right in front of it, a frown knotting at his forehead still quite unsure why he had risked sneaking into one of the most guarded part of MACUSA. Pardoned he may be for smuggling his creatures and risking the Statute, he is still on thin ice.

“I don’t suppose staring into nothing would solve your problems, Mister Scamander.”

The voice is raspy and hoarse but lacking none of its confident lilt. Even with a heavily protected door between them, Grindelwald is every bit the wizard who had taunted and tortured him in the subway. Absently, Newt noted that a silencing charm was not one of the spells cast on the cells.

With a side glance to where he had come from, Newt cast a privacy charm around them, one that wouldn’t interfere with the wards.

The silence from the other side of the door was quite unnerving but even then, Newt doesn’t say anything. He stood there, arms crossed and hunched over, staring at the door separating him and Grindelwald.

Newt wonders why he could not muster fear or anger at the man who had taken his creatures away from him no matter how short of a time it had been. Wonders why there’s nothing but curiosity for a man who caused so much unneeded violence.

I’m not one of Grindelwald’s fanatics, he had said to the man. And he wasn’t. But a part of him always had been curious what made them fanatics. There has to be a reason why a single wizard could amass such a following.

Then, quite sudden and out of the blue, laughter full of mirth rang from the other side. It’s surprising, and the malevolent undercurrent of it made Newt shudder unconsciously.

“I seem to have underestimated you, Mister Scamander. But, ah, I see it now; what makes Albus Dumbledore so fond of you. Is there anything you wouldn’t do for your creatures?” Here, Newt scowls but still doesn’t talk. “I’ve seen what you do for them, walked through their homes and admired how seamlessly they exist. Danger doesn’t seem to be a word you adhere to.”

There’s a bitter aftertaste in his mouth as he swallowed when reminded by the fact the man had trampled over his case—his home. Nothing had been out of place when he had checked, not even the obscurus Grindelwald had taken out.

“I think it’s time for you to go now.” Newt could hear the smile from the man’s tone of voice. “We will meet again.”

It’s six months before Gellert Grindelwald made his presence known again.

Newt isn’t the least bit surprised the man had managed to escape. What does surprise him is when he finds a herd of thestrals loitering about in the street near his home in London. There’s a young chimaera too, affectionate enough that it lets Newt near without fuss.

“Hello, little one.” Newt coos as it climbs up to his shoulder. It leans on his fingers when he reached up to pet it. Pickett curiously peeks out from the lapel of his coat and climbs up to where the chimaera had settled. They had a staring contest before Pickett huffed and settled back down to his favorite place.

Newt chuckles affectionately, “Pickett seems to like you well enough. Now who might you be?” A small scrap of parchment is stuck on its back and Newt quickly reads it.

His name is Antonio. Keep him with you. You may do as you please with the thestrals.

The handwriting is unfamiliar. He couldn’t think of anyone who would send him anything of the sort and it’s more than suspicious. Perhaps he should send word to Theseus at the least. But contact with his brother isn’t something he wanted to do unless it was absolutely needed.

“You weren’t sent by someone bad, were you?” Newt asked of the thestrals and Antonio.

The small chimaera merely made a high pitched guttural sound at the back of its throat in response.

Newt smiles before clicking his tongue, calling the attention of the thestrals nosing curiously at the potted plants of the neighboring houses. He frowns when he noticed how thin they looked—thinner than how a thestral should be.

“Oh you poor dears,” Newt sighed, nuzzling one of the creatures. “We should get you somewhere more suitable for your needs.”

He leads them to his home where he had spent months in when the Ministry sanctioned his travelling ban. It’s roomier than his case but Newt missed being able to travel, being able to set his creatures free to where they belong instead of cooped up in a beautiful cage.

They may be replications of their home but it was a cage nonetheless.

A cold nose nudged his cheek and Newt smiled wryly. He can’t keep a herd of thestrals in his home. Perhaps he could send them to Hogwarts once they’re in perfect health.

It’s another month before the monotony of scouring through London and getting rid of his tails was broken when Antonio—who had taken residence on his person just as much as Pickett had—suddenly jumped down from his pocket and ran through the streets.

Newt, already used to such behavior from his other creatures, quickly scampered off to follow the chimaera.

He manage to catch up to the creature near an alley and had only managed to cradle him close to his chest, ready to scold him running off, when a hand grabbed his shoulder and the familiar feeling of apparation swallowed him.

They appear on a rooftop of some building, the wind whipping away at his overcoat.

“I did say we will meet again, Mister Scamander.”

Newt barely managed to cover a flinch of surprise but he does back away from the voice. Standing before him, head tilted to the side, is Gellert Grindelwald. There’s no trace of the months he spent in MACUSA’s custody.

It hits him that this is the first time he sees the Dark Lord as himself. Nothing in the Dark wizard’s face or body but the mask of Gellert Grindelwald. There’s nothing to blindside Newt this time, nothing to defend himself with, no barriers of any kind. Except, perhaps, Newt’s own ignorance.

The other wizard seems to be waiting for a response so Newt composes himself, “You did say that.”

In his hands, Antonio wriggles about and peeks up at Newt and then to Grindelwald. To his bemusement, Grindelwald reaches out a hand. “May I?”

Newt stares, unsure for a moment, before he realizes what the Dark Lord wanted. Instinctively, Newt lets Antonio out of his grasp, watching as the little chimaera crawled over to Grindelwald’s hand willingly. It was strange, seeing the intimidating wizard holding the creature carefully.

“I’m glad to see you’ve kept Antonio.” Grindelwald lifted the creature to Newt’s shoulder and let it go. “I’m afraid I can’t keep such a needy creature with me.”

Indignation churned in his gut but Newt tempered it down, focusing instead on the realization that Grindelwald had been the one who sent Antonio and the thestrals. He had to be cautious with what he says to the wizard. He says instead, “Antonio had been a good companion.”

Grindelwald hums, “I can see that.”

“What was it you needed with me?” Newt finally asked, absently petting Pickett and then Antonio.

“Nothing.”

Newt furrows his brows and looked closer at the other wizard. “Yet.”

A smirk tugged at Grindelwald’s lips. “Nothing yet, yes. When the time comes, you will give it to me.”

Newt had no idea what it is. But the conviction in the Dark Lord’s voice kept him from asking. It was curious how despite being cautious, there was no immediate urge to flee. Even lesser was the urge to interfere with whatever the wizard is planning.

“Until we meet again, Newton.”

There was a possibility that Newt refused the Ministry’s deals because he couldn’t seem to muster up the will to fight against the Dark Lord.

He had seen how the man fought, had been in close enough proximity to say that he could not repeat what he had done in that subway months ago. Not for the lack of trying but for the certainty that Grindelwald wouldn’t commit the same mistake twice.

“There would come a time that everyone—everyone—has got to pick a side. Even you.” Theseus had said.

I don’t do sides. He doesn’t. Especially now.

Newt knew that travelling to Paris isn’t such a good idea.

But with Credence alive, Newt couldn’t appease his conscience quite well. And even then, he had to clear things up with Tina.

Going to Paris isn’t such a good idea but Newt will do it anyway. And, glancing at Jacob who was recounting his and Queenie’s romance in the last year, Newt wouldn’t deny the speck of happiness at the familiarity of the situation. He missed his friends and he missed venturing out of the country. This time, hopefully, there wouldn’t be adrenaline of a chase and troubles of Dark Lords.

But considering who and what Credence is, Newt wouldn’t count on it.

The moment Antonio started fussing, Newt knew what was coming.

“Hey Newt-”

“I-I’m sorry Jacob,” Newt turns around to face Jacob, causing the other man to stop in his tracks. “But could you please, uh, hold this for moment-” He hands him the feather that they are using to track Tina, now encased in a clear box.

Jacob takes it with a puzzled expression. “Okay…”

“Yes thank you,” Newt tries to smile. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. Stay here. Or, uh, actually, you can find a café to stay at. I’ll find you.”

Then he walks over to an alley before letting Antonio scamper up his shoulder. “Where to now?”

With the squeaked directions from the little chimaera, Newt finds himself outside a house. He steps up to knock on the door and was greeted by a striking woman.

They look at each other, the woman sizing him up before inclining her head with an unreadable though pleasant expression. “Come in, Mister Scamander.”

Newt does so, brushing off the surprise at her knowing his name. “Thank you.” He muttered.

There’s a surprised gasp from inside and Newt turns to its direction.

“Newt?” Then he was engulfed in a hug that had him shifting in discomfort even as he recognized Queenie’s golden curls and soft voice. “Oh I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been so awful. Is Jacob with you? I’m so sorry I didn’t know what else to do.”

He pats her back awkwardly, spying the black haired French woman smirking at them.

“What – what are you doing here Queenie?” Newt asked as Queenie finally let him go, a niggle of worry finally settling in his stomach.

Her distressed frown brightened up into a smile as she gestures at the woman, “I was lost and she helped me. She’s been so kind to me but I uh…” Her face fell and dismay colored her voice. “You don’t happen to know where Tina is, do you?”

Newt’s shake of head wasn’t really needed but he still did so.

You need to leave.

“Oh, why do I-”

“Newton,” Newt turned just as Queenie drew her wand.

“You stay right there,” Queenie bit out, unconsciously pulling Newt behind her. “I know what you are.”

“Queenie.” Grindelwald strode nearer, arms raised to show that he is harmless. It doesn’t quite work but the man doesn’t put it down. “We’re not here to hurt you.” The man titled his head. “Nor will we harm Newton.”

Newt closed his eyes, resigned that he’s too late to have Queenie escape.

Please put your wand down, Newt spoke in his mind clearly. He may not know what the Dark Lord has planned but Newt didn’t want to aggravate the man though he seems to be more amused than anything else. Pleased, even.

Queenie’s stance wavered and she turned to him, confusion and betrayal clear on her face.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Newt whispered. This seems to amuse Grindelwald even further so Newt turns his attention to him. “Please let her go.”

“We will,” Grindelwald appeased but satisfaction lurked behind his mismatched eyes. “We only wish protect the innocent. To let her know that we are here to help.” His attention drifts to Queenie who is trembling. “It is not your fault that your sister is an auror. I wish she were working with me now to a world where every witch and wizard is able to live however they want. To love freely.”

Before Newt’s eyes, he sees Queenie’s resolve waver. She looks at him, a desperate attempt to keep her head straight. But even Newt isn’t sure what to believe so he grips her hand and moved his gaze away from her.

I’m sorry was all he could think.

“Go now,” Grindelwald said. “Leave this place.”

Obediently, they did.

Queenie tags along as Newt returns to Jacob.

They have a tearful reunion, both apologizing for their actions (and thoughts on Jacob’s part). But Grindelwald’s influence had taken root. Newt can see the determination in Queenie’s eyes.

He smiles, though, because Queenie and Jacob clearly belonged together.

A man passed by and the feather they had been following earlier that day ruffled excitedly and pointed at the man. Newt let it free, watching as the feather zoomed past them and back onto the man’s hat.

“Come on.” Newt muttered as he followed the man.

His reunion with Tina wasn’t quite as touching as Jacob and Queenie’s.

They manage to get Mr. Kama out of the sewers with them and the Zouwu safely inside his case. When they settled in the safe place professor Dumbledore had given him the address to, Queenie had finally gotten irritated enough at the tension between them.

“Tina!” Queenie huffed, glaring at her stoic sister. “Newt here was going to say something important.”

Newt froze from his spot halfway down his case. He slowly turns his gaze up at Queenie’s expectant look to Tina’s equally as expectant look.

“You really are sisters.” He blurted out, nerves having caught up with him. Somewhere in the room, Jacob purses his lips and palms his face. Queenie glared at Newt. “I- I’m sorry. I-” Queenie tapped her foot in impatience. “I wasn’t uh, there had been a misunderstanding, Tina. It’s my brother- Theseus and Leta are the ones who are going to get married.”

Queenie’s happy clap was the only noise heard in the silence filled room. Newt took the opportunity to go down his case to take care of the Zouwu.

Newt sees Credence again in the Lestrange Mausoleum.

It’s only him and Tina this time, having left Queenie and Jacob to guard Mr. Kama. Though they seem to have been unsuccessful.

There’s tension in the air, one born from familial disagreements. Newt felt distinctly out of place as Leta told her story, feeling as if he was encroaching on something he shouldn’t know. It doesn’t shed light to who Credence is and the look of disappointment in the boy caused sympathy to twist his heart.

His attention is broken by Antonio wiggling out of his pocket.

“Antonio?”

His startled whisper called everyone’s attention. Newt followed Antonio to where a passage opened at his touch. The chimaera croaked and scampered up his shoulder and settled there, anticipation making him absolutely still.

Beyond the revealed passageway was a large gathering of wizards and witches.

At once, Newt realized Grindelwald’s plan.

The fire of protego diabolica burned brightly as it danced to the whims of the Dark Lord.

Aurors who were unable to protect themselves got burned, dying with piercing screams that cut off as the curse ate them away.

Newt watched with a horrified fascination, following the motions of his brother as they defended against the flames. Queenie and Jacob were ways away and he could see her crying, screaming at Jacob in despair.

At the other side, Credence makes his way to the flames, barely held back by the maledictus.

Newt is rooted in his spot, watching as Credence crossed over, Grindelwald greeting him with wide arms. His eyes are drawn to Queenie, anguish and desperation clear on her face as she crossed over the blue flames. Their eyes meet and Newt lets out a huff, half hysteric and half resignation.

“Newton,” Everyone seemed to pause at the call. Newt heard Theseus’s breath hitch and felt the way his brother’s hand gripped his arm tighter. “It’s time, I should think.”

Newt clutches his eyes shut, taking in deep breaths as he gripped his case tighter.

“What does he-” Newt pulls away from Theseus’s hold. “Newt don’t!”

He avoids look at anyone, feeling Tina, Leta, and Theseus’s eyes burning at him. Grindelwald’s expectant, triumphant gaze seemed to be the only thing that doesn’t burn. Antonio is purring as his shoulder and Newt reaches up to pet him.

With surprisingly steady gait, Newt walks down the steps.

Time seemed to slow and the distance between him and the platform seemed to be longer than it looks.

“Newt!”

Newt pauses and turns to his brother only to have the flames come between them. Between Newt and everyone.

Leta pulls Theseus back and Newt catches her eyes. For the first time in years, Newt smiles at her. “Please take care of him.”

Then he walked away, towards Grindelwald’s expectant gaze. This time it seemed faster than it should. The flames are warm, comforting even as his heart broke at the screams of his name.

He doesn’t stop walking until he stands close to Grindelwald. So close that there was barely space between them. Antonio jumps from his perch on Newt’s shoulder over to Grindelwald’s. The Dark Lord reaches up and cradles Newt’s face in his palm.

Smugness and triumph swirled behind mismatched eyes.

And then they were gone.

[hotelload494]

Our Revels Now Are Ended

Our Revels Now Are Ended Akira The Don

Our Revels Now Are Ended

Our Revels Now Are Ended The Tempest Act Iv Scene I

Our Revels Now Are Ended Youtube

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision. 13 thoughts on “ Our Revels Now Are Ended. ” ST says: March 1, 2020 at 6:47 pm “Farewell the tranquil mind.” Indeed!

“Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded.

Title: Our revels now are ended Author: bsimon Last modified by: bsimon Created Date: 5/18/2006 3:17:00 PM Other titles: Our revels now are ended.

Prospero and Miranda from the Paralympic opening ceremony

2012 has been the year of The Tempest. During this year of the World Shakespeare Festival at least three productions have been seen in the UK, and the play featured in the opening ceremonies for both the Olympics and Paralympics. Danny Boyle took much of his inspiration from the play’s themes of magic, humanity and reconciliation, entitling the ceremony “Isles of Wonder”. Kenneth Branagh, dressed as Isambard Kingdom Brunel, delivered Caliban’s “The isle is full of noises” speech, and for the Paralympics Jenny Sealey and Bradley Hemmings gave us Ian McKellen as Prospero delivering speeches inspired by the play while Nicola Miles-Wildin as Miranda delivered her lines on the beauty of mankind, “O brave new world that has such people in it”.

At the British Museum’s current Shakespeare: Staging the World exhibition the final room is devoted to the play. The room is bathed in light after the darkness of the rest of the exhibition. Here we find terrestrial and celestial Globes symbolising exploration and discovery, the Robben Island Shakespeare reminding us of Shakespeare’s universal importance, and a recording of Ian McKellen delivering one of Prospero’s final speeches about reconciliation.

The productions have been as varied as the rest of the year’s Shakespeare offerings. The Globe to Globe production was performed in Bangla by the Dhaka Theatre of Bangladesh, with English subtitles. This vibrant production is available to view on The Space.

The RSC’s production is one of the trilogy of Shipwreck plays with Jonathan Slinger as a young, angry Prospero in David Farr’s modern dress production.

Tim Pigott-Smith as Prospero

Last Saturday another production of the play, directed by Adrian Noble, closed at the Theatre Royal in Bath. Noble’s production has been adapted from the San Diego Festival where it was the hit of 2011.

I was at the final performance, on the night before the closing ceremony of the Paralympics. Like the Olympics and Paralympics the production celebrated life, joy and emotion. In the build-up to the closing ceremony comedian Jimmy Carr was interviewed. “I’ve had a summer off from cynicism” he said.

This production connects with the audience from the start: Tim Pigott-Smith strides downstage, surveys the house sternly and strikes the boards with his magic staff. Pigott-Smith has played his fair share of unpleasant characters but here he doesn’t remain harsh for long. Miranda, played by Iris Roberts and Ferdinand (Mark Quartley) are a couple many fathom deep in love, and the atmosphere of delight is shared with the cast of curious islanders. Comedy is in the reliable hands of Geoffrey Freshwater and Mark Hadfield.

The programme editorial by Stuart Leeks focuses on the history of theatrical magic, but points out that although it’s now possible to create illusions by the use of projected images, “the greatest magic in The Tempest surely lies in the words used to summon up the fabric of this vision: the extraordinarily rich, supple, compacted verse”. In this well-spoken production magic is summoned, not by technology, but by a huge blue silk cloth. The islanders use it to make waves, to conceal entrances and exits, cover objects, as a dance partner. Ariel’s shadow as the Harpy is projected onto it, and the red eyes of the dogs that pursue Stephano and Trinculo glow behind it.

Our Revels Now Are Ended Akira The Don

At the end of the play Prospero speaks his final speech on a bare stage. He asks for help “or else my project fails/Which was to please”. He finds his redemption in connecting with the rest of humanity, and the cast joyfully leave the stage to clasp the hands of the audience.

Our revels now are ended: this summer both sport and culture have celebrated the human spirit with optimism and warmth. Long may it continue.

Condolences have come in from all over the country on the passing away of theatre doyen and art connoisseur Ebrahim Alkazi (18 October 1925 – 4 August 2020). However, what touched the heart was a Facebook post by Kumara Varma, who was schooled in theatre direction at the National School of Drama (NSD) and spent a lifetime in Chandigarh doing memorable plays and later heading the department of Indian theatre at Panjab University. Posting a black and white portrait of Alkazi, Varma quotes Shakespeare from The Tempest: “Our revels have now ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and, Are melted into air, into thin air.”

Our Revels Now Are Ended

Now settled in his home state of Kerala at Trichur, Varma says: “These are the lines that came to my mind when the news of Alkazi’s passing away came and one says with humble pride that whatever one learned was from him. He shaped modern Indian theatre and it was he who set the tradition of translating plays written in different regional languages all over the country and staging them in Hindustani. His repertoire was thus truly pan-Indian”.

© Provided by Hindustan Times Director Ebrahim Alkazi ()

Legend of Tughlaq

With this we come to the spectacular production of Girish Karnad’s Tughlaq, which was originally written in Kannada and translated for Alkazi by yet another brilliant director-musician of modern Indian theatre, late BV Karanth. Karnad was to say thus of Alkazi: “His fundamental contribution was to devise a methodology of theatre training which has continued after him, and to create a body of actors and directors which transformed the notion of theatre at the grassroots.” Interestingly, Alkazi first assigned Om Shivpuri to take up Tughlaq as a student production. Karnad was acknowledge that it was immaterial that these were only student productions: “Doors that we, in our vernaculars did not even know existed, had begun to open.”

Karnad, who sourced his plays from myth and history, wrote Tughlaq in 1964, based on the maverick life of the 14th century Sultan of Delhi, Mohammad Bin Tughlaq.

Alkazi as the founding director of NSD from 1962 to 1977, in those 15 years, directed to perfection many plays, yet his three definitive works to be staged in the backdrop of Delhi’s Purana Qila were Andha Yug, Razia Sultan and Tughlaq. The last which he first staged in 1962 is counted as one of the best productions the country saw in modern times is because it brought together some of the best talents of the country: Alkazi, Karanth, Karnad and of course the famous actor Manohar Singh, the Himachal boy who was groomed by his teacher to be one of the best actors on stage. Manohar was the first and only choice of Alkazi, who said: “Manohar had the aristocracy of spirit, nobility of soul and complete humility in understanding and enacting a role.”

Varma, who played the junior guard recalls, “The play had passed from history into legend while it was still being enacted. Artiste Kamal Tewari recalling the magnificent and unparalleled performance of Manohar Singh, says: “I was included in the production playing one of the conspiring Ameers and I remember the slap Manohar Singh gave me sent me hurling some six feet away”. Veteran actor Rani Balbir Kaur adds, “I travelled a number of times till the play was active to see it and each time it was a great experience. What dialogue delivery by Manohar Singh! I first met Kumara Varma there playing the young guard to whom Manohar renders the famous speech ‘Umangon bhari umar hai, Khwab dekhne ki umar, Saare aalam ko jeetne ki umar’ (It is your age of exaltation, The time to indulge in dreams, The time to conquer the whole world)’.”

Our Revels Now Are Ended The Tempest Act Iv Scene I

Flash forward to 1980s

It was in the mid-1980s during a meeting with actor Meeta Vashisht, who one knows from her Chandigarh theatre days, at the NSD hostel. One got talking about Tughlaq. Meeta recounted that the boy students would down beer, strip off most of their clothing and recite the dialogues of Tughlaq till late at night. Not surprising for that’s how it was and is in boys’ hostels. The young ones were giving an irreverent tribute but a tribute nevertheless. At the same time they were practising dialogue delivery at its best. Yes, and as a friendly neighbourhood journalist one had the privilege of spending a few evenings with Manohar Singh who would pick up the play and recite some of the dialogues. I earned his wrath when I once dosed off a little in the middle of the renderings and he told me to get up, fix myself a drink, and carried on reciting.

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Such was the magic of Tughlaq, a political play that was written on the faultline of Nehruvian socialism, yet in such a manner that it reached out to all in its multilayered delineation to one and all.

Our Revels Now Are Ended Youtube

Halo custom edition download google drive. Sign on to read the HT ePaper epaper.hindustantimes.com

[logh-icebergs]

Episode 26: Farewell, Distant Days

Dear Icebergs readers—as we’ve reached the first season finale of LoGH, we’ve inevitably arrived at some pretty serious spoilers, so if you haven’t already seen all of LoGH season one, I would advise against reading any further. Instead, you can find our FAQs here and our very first post here, and we hope to see you back here soon!

Everyone else: When you're ready, please proceed to our episode 26 post, below. —the editors

September-October 797/488. Ansbach’s assassination attempt on Reinhard is thwarted by Kircheis—first by knocking his gun out of the way, and then by taking fire himself from yet another concealed weapon, this time in Ansbach’s ring. Ansbach shoots through Kircheis’s chest and neck, then bites a poison pill to commit suicide. Reinhard’s admirals scramble, but it’s too late to save Kircheis, who dies while Reinhard holds his hand and looks on in bewilderment. Beyond devastated, Reinhard shuts himself away with Kircheis’s body for days on end. Oberstein convinces the admirals to cast former ally Lichtenlade as a scapegoat for Ansbach’s crime, and, grateful for something to do, the entire fleet storms Odin. Meanwhile, Oberstein informs Annerose of Kircheis’s death, Reuental receives an unexpected invitation, and Reinhard hardens his heart.

Reinhard and Kircheis

The first time I watched episode 26 of Legend of Galactic Heroes, there was a moment when, literally sitting on the edge of my seat, I wondered if this show was about to disappoint me horribly. Kircheis was, clearly, dying. The admirals were fluttering around him trying and failing to stop the bleeding, giving up on leaving to go get a doctor—too quickly, it seemed. And where was Reinhard? Why wasn’t he there?

As a queer consumer of media, I’m used to this kind of disappointment. Seeing my experiences reflected onscreen at all remains rare, and when a piece of media does deign to include a queer character or two, more often than not they’re killed off unceremoniously in as homophobically moralizing a way as possible. The death scenes of queer characters tend to leave me with a sick feeling not because I’m grieving the character but because I hate that I’ve had to give up on expecting queer characters and their relationships to be given a fraction of the respect afforded their straight counterparts.

The first 25 episodes of LoGH had surprised me with their nuanced and respectful depiction of queerness, in particular of Reinhard and Kircheis’s relationship. But as a seasoned veteran of queer media consumption, as Kircheis bled out on the floor while Reinhard did who knows what across the room, I didn’t know how else to interpret what I was seeing other than “Kircheis is about to die alone.” My stomach hurt. And then, this happened:

Given that it’s animated, LoGH has so far been remarkable in its commitment to realism. Without exception, what has been shown to us onscreen has been presented as an accurate depiction of events; the closest to a diversion from that has been the show’s frequent use of flashbacks, but even those are always anchored to a specific character’s experience of remembering the past.

As Reinhard steps painstakingly down the stairs toward where Kircheis lays in a pool of his own blood, the creators of LoGH throw away their own established set of rules. What we are seeing is no longer what is literally happening; instead, we are with Reinhard—and for him, nothing in the world exists at that moment except Kircheis and himself. With this scene, the LoGH creative team show us that they will do whatever they have to in order to respect their characters: If there are too many people around for Reinhard and Kircheis to get the intimate last goodbyes they and their relationship deserve, well, everyone else will simply have to be removed.

Even the lack of voiceover accompanying Reinhard’s quick series of flashbacks here reinforces the extent to which reality has been skewed for the duration of this scene.

For me, this was when LoGH went from being a great show to being (as you may have noticed) my favorite show—and not just because of how kindly it treats its characters, even while they experience gut-wrenching tragedy. Kircheis’s death changes Reinhard and, as I’ll obviously be exploring at length as we move into season 2, that changes the entire landscape of the show. Though from the beginning it has always been deeply personal and human, especially for a war epic of such massive scale, the question of what Reinhard will do now, without Kircheis, turns LoGH psychologically dark in ways that have only been hinted at so far.

Back in episode 4, we were first introduced to Reinhard’s plan to gain enough power to rescue Annerose from the clutches of Kaiser Friedrich IV. Friedrich IV has since died of natural causes, freeing Annerose without Reinhard’s help. In episode 8, we learn that Reinhard’s ambitions extend to overthrowing the Goldenbaum empire, and then achieving supremacy over the entire universe—very specifically with Kircheis at his side. By the end of episode 26, Reinhard rules the empire in everything but name (the six-year-old Erwin Josef II still sits on the throne as Kaiser), but Kircheis is dead, rendering Reinhard’s longtime goal of joint conquest impossible.

For practical purposes, this barely matters: Above, Kircheis uses some of his last remaining energy to beg Reinhard to follow through with the plan they made together, in effect guaranteeing that he will continue on the same path after Kircheis dies. But in more abstract terms, both of Reinhard’s main reasons for seeking political power are now gone. And with a promise to the dead Kircheis as Reinhard’s driving force, Empire-side LoGH has suddenly become a very different show—one that is no longer about a man trying to conquer the universe, but is rather about a man searching for something to hold onto in a universe that, without Kircheis in it, seems to have very little to offer.

Annerose

But Reinhard shouldn’t feel entirely alone in the universe. After all, he has his sister, right? Well, not exactly. As Reinhard learns after Oberstein breaks the news of Kircheis’s death to Annerose (against Reinhard’s wishes), Annerose has decided now is the perfect time to do something really, really cruel: cut off contact with her grieving brother.

Reinhard’s Family

That the season 1 arc of Reinhard and Annerose’s relationship ends on a bad note is frankly an understatement, but to really dig into how things stand between them in episode 26, we must first get a handle on all the moving parts that brought them to this point.

Over the course of my season 1 posts, I’ve mapped out much of the dynamic between Reinhard and Annerose: Reinhard, who both idealizes and idolizes his sister, does so (unwittingly) at the expense of her personhood; Annerose, whose agency has been violently denied her since an early age, projects a portion of her (natural) resentment onto her brother, who moves freely about the universe steadily gaining power while her life remains stagnant. One aspect of their relationship that I haven’t examined, however, is the extent to which Annerose has played a parental role in Reinhard’s life.

In this scene from the episode 4 flashback, Reinhard assigns to Annerose the kind of responsibility for his behavior that would ordinarily be reserved for a parent or guardian.

And then, after Reinhard and Kircheis have conspired to keep Reinhard’s misdeeds from his sister, Annerose puts their wet clothes in the laundry and dotes on them with hot chocolate and freshly baked pie. This is maybe the most archetypal depiction of motherhood I’ve ever seen, despite the fact that Annerose is both 1. actually Reinhard’s sister and 2. only five years his senior.

Reinhard’s father, who sold Annerose into sexual slavery at the age of fifteen, is obviously awful. And Reinhard’s mother, who hasn’t even ever been mentioned, clearly never had much of a presence in Reinhard’s life. Annerose is the only person (besides, eventually, Kircheis) we ever see taking responsibility and caring for Reinhard.

Reinhard’s family, as it is presented to us, is comprised of three people: himself, Annerose, and Kircheis. Though Kircheis is literally never (not once in all of LoGH!) referred to as being “like a brother” to Reinhard, their constant companionship since a young age means that their interactions often blur the line between surrogate-familial and romantic. The fact that Reinhard always brings Kircheis with him on visits to Annerose, for example, indicates that he at least views the three of them as a tight-knit unit.

But in Reinhard’s chosen family, there is a clear delineation of roles between Annerose and himself/Kircheis. In the gif above, Reinhard and Kircheis sit across the table from Annerose, who acts like a parent not just to Reinhard but to Kircheis as well; the difference in age and maturity between them is underlined by both Annerose’s matter-of-fact competence and Reinhard and Kircheis’s unashamed (and matching) nudity.

The photo that Kircheis gazes at in episode 25 (which eventually shows up in Reinhard’s locket, discussed later in this post) also draws a solid line between Annerose—who is more than a full head taller than the boys—and Reinhard/Kircheis. Kircheis’s sideways gaze at Reinhard serves to emphasize even further that they are a discrete pair.

Reinhard’s behavior towards Annerose starts to make more sense once you realize that he basically considers her his mother. Just as children tend not to understand—sometimes well into adulthood—that their parents are fully formed, flawed human beings with rich inner lives, so Reinhard has kept Annerose on a pedestal, treating her more like a symbol than a complex person. This also explains how Reinhard can, for example, be so blasé about teasing Kircheis in front of Annerose for his love of her cooking: Naïve as he is, the idea that Annerose might have feelings for Kircheis that go beyond platonic and motherly would never occur to Reinhard in a million years—unless something were to happen that brought Annerose’s feelings into stark relief.

Annerose Makes Up Her Mind

Which brings us back to the scene at hand, Kircheis’s death being the exact sort of cataclysmic event that might throw a wrench into Reinhard’s precarious relationship with his sister. And the second Annerose opens her mouth to speak, Reinhard knows something is wrong:

Annerose’s tone of voice here is as cold and distant as what she’s actually saying; rather than sharing in or sympathizing with Reinhard’s grief, she isolates him in it, trivializing his feelings of loss while also—by implying Kircheis was the only person Reinhard could ever care about losing—calling into question the authenticity of his devotion to her.

If Reinhard had been aware of all the little signs of Annerose’s resentment towards him that have been building up over the course of the last 25 episodes, this conversation might have gone differently—not because Annerose would have done a better job playing the part of the soothing sister/mother, but because Reinhard might not have been expecting her to. But Reinhard is naïve, especially about Annerose, so her abrupt switch from passive aggression (which Reinhard of course never picked up on) to overt hostility shocks Reinhard into a realization.

Above, Reinhard first protests Annerose’s disingenuous declaration that he has nothing left to lose, and then looks on in horror as it becomes clear that she intends to make it a true statement. But even while Reinhard listens, and responds, the gears are (visibly!) turning in his head, trying desperately to figure out what the fuck is going on. So let’s join him: What the fuck is going on?

First and foremost, I think, is Annerose’s desire for freedom. With Kircheis gone, she must realize that Reinhard’s need for her emotional support will increase astronomically. It’s one thing for her to live quietly in Reinhard’s mansion when he’s usually off gallivanting around space with his boyfriend; it’s quite another thing to share a home with someone who is grieving the loss of, as Mittermeyer so eloquently put it, half of his own self.

Because Reinhard may view Annerose as a mother, but that isn’t how Annerose views Annerose. We don’t actually know how she views herself—as I said back in episode 1, our entire characterization of Annerose is a reflection of how the world sees her—but we do know how she came to be Reinhard’s mother figure and, like her sale to Kaiser Friedrich IV, it wasn’t through any choice of her own.

In fact, this choice, the one to tell her grieving brother to fuck off so that she can finally get some time and space to herself, is the first choice we’ve ever seen Annerose make. So despite episode 26 ending on a catastrophic note for Reinhard’s relationship with Annerose, it ends on something of a triumphant note for Annerose herself: In choosing not to allow her well-meaning brother to use her as his personal grief counselor, she has finally, if perversely, reclaimed her agency.

Meanwhile, Reinhard has come to a completely different realization about Annerose’s motives:

My much earlier promise of a love triangle between Reinhard, Kircheis, and Annerose has finally come to fruition in true LoGH fashion, i.e. as morbidly as possible.

Make no mistake: The reason Reinhard asks this question of Annerose now is because it has never occurred to him before, and the reason it has occurred to him now is because Annerose is behaving in a way that he interprets as some mixture of jealous, vindictive, and heartbroken—none of which align with his image of his sister. Faced with her unambiguous and uncharacteristic cruelty, Reinhard searches around for an explanation and comes up with what would have sounded outlandish to him until this moment: romantic love.

But was Annerose in love with Kircheis? I don’t know. Frankly, I doubt Annerose knows (and we never get to see her answer, if she even gives one). Remember, Kircheis was ten years old to Annerose’s fifteen when she became the Kaiser’s concubine, meaning for most of the time they actually spent together, Annerose was basically Kircheis’s babysitter. It’s certainly possible that she developed romantic feelings for him over the years, or at least projected some romantic ideal onto him that she experienced as love. Given that he was probably the only male figure in her life besides her brother who was ever kind to her, it wouldn’t be surprising.

As a rival to Reinhard, though, my guess is that Annerose never considered herself in the running—and if anything, that would have made Kircheis an even safer object of affection for someone whose real-life experience with men was limited to a decade of blatant sexual exploitation. But that certainly doesn’t preclude jealousy or heartbreak; in that sense, Reinhard might be partially right about why Annerose chooses to act the way she does.

The accuracy of Reinhard’s suspicions, however, isn’t particularly important. What matters is that Reinhard has had this realization at all: In yet another twisted triumph for Annerose, and at immense cost, her brother has finally realized that she’s human.

Queerness

Given the reasons for the existence of this blog, it’s only fitting that we end our first season with a discussion of how LoGH treats queerness. Conveniently, this coincides with the creative team’s decision to convert a substantial portion of the show’s queer subtext into explicit text, done via multiple perspectives and narrative techniques throughout the season finale.

Our first open acknowledgement of the romantic nature of Reinhard and Kircheis’s relationship comes, unfortunately, from Kircheis’s murderer, Ansbach. The phrase “other half,” unlike much of the language used thus far to describe Reinhard and Kircheis, doesn’t have a heteronormative surface reading.

Incidentally, Ansbach’s easy familiarity with the concept of a romantic partnership between two men has always been one of the things that made me wonder about his feelings for Braunschweig—along with the fact that immediately after this, Ansbach tells Braunschweig to “wait for him in Valhalla” before killing himself.

Kircheis’s last words, too, work to remove a layer of heteronormativity from LoGH’s surface reading, albeit more subtly:

In this final, stunning example of a Reinhard-Bechdel Test failure, Kircheis uses his last breath to ask Reinhard to tell Annerose... that he kept his promise to be a good friend to Reinhard.

In a heteronormative piece of media, when a male character brings up a female character’s name in his dying breath, one would probably expect him to declare his undying love for her. That Kircheis starts his last sentence with “Please tell Lady Annerose...” and finishes it with a positive allusion to his relationship with Reinhard is an incredible subversion of heteroromantic tropes. It even goes so far as to “straight-bait,” dangling the possibility of Kircheis’s romantic feelings for Annerose in front of the viewer before categorically dismissing it.

Later, while Reinhard mourns, Mittermeyer uses similar language to Ansbach’s, above, to explain to Müller why Reinhard is in such an inconsolable state:

Like Ansbach’s usage of “other half,” Mittermeyer’s “half of his own self” doesn’t have a non-romantic interpretation to bolster LoGH’s increasingly shaky heteronormative surface reading. Also like (maybe) Ansbach, Mittermeyer is a character who (as we’ll see much more of soon) can speak from his personal experiences with queer romance, making him perfect for delivering this unambiguous message not just to other characters, but also to the viewer.

The last scene of the episode and the season finds Reinhard at Kircheis’s grave which, yet again, emphasizes his romantic relationship with Reinhard, and not just because of the inscription’s use of the singular possessive “my”:

Though the German “Mein Freund” directly translates to “my friend,” that isn’t actually how the phrase is used in Germany, where “Mein Freund” most frequently refers to a male romantic partner. The only ambiguity about Kircheis’s inscription is in how it’s translated: as わが友 in Japanese or, literally, “my friend,” obscuring the German usage and allowing it to continue to pass as heteronormative.

After placing flowers on Kircheis’s grave, Reinhard sits back, revealing that he has started wearing a locket. Opening it, he shows us that it contains a photo we’ve seen before of Reinhard with his chosen family, and a lock of Kircheis’s hair:

Season one of Legend of Galactic Heroes ends on a deeply personal note, and it also ends on a series of questions: What, or who, will Reinhard find to fill the gaping hole in his life left by Kircheis’s death? Will it be his rivalry with Yang? Other, darker questions are left unspoken, but their presence is felt nonetheless: Will Reinhard find something to “quench the thirst in his heart”? And, if not, what then?

Stray Tidbits

During this post, as usual, I’ve used gifs from the LD (original) versions of LoGH instead of their redrawn versions. Episode 26 was almost entirely redrawn, and many of the “remastered” scenes are dramatically different from their original versions, so I’m gonna give a few sample comparisons here. Kircheis’s death scene, for example, was changed to make his physical process of dying appear significantly less grisly. Below, on the left, the redrawn Kircheis’s body is still and his eyes are focused on Reinhard; on the right, the original Kircheis’s breaths are visibly laborious and painful, and his eyes are unfocused:

Below, Reinhard’s facial expressions and reactions during his conversation with Annerose were changed so drastically that he might as well be a different character. In the redraw (left), Reinhard is practically throwing a tantrum; in the original (right), Reinhard is still shocked, but keeps his composure as he struggles to process his sister’s unexpected cruelty, placing the emphasis squarely on his thoughts rather than on his feelings:

On a lighter note, the redraw team seems to have been confused (or, less charitably, offended) by this public display of intimacy between Reuental and Mittermeyer—in the redraw (left), Reuental stops Mittermeyer from standing by either touching his hand or just making a motion as if to touch his hand, keeping a respectful distance; in the original (right), Reuental physically impedes Mittermeyer from standing up by placing his hand on *draws a diagram* his very inner thigh, and leaving it there:

A small worldbuilding note: The dates on Kircheis’s grave are wrong! He was actually born in 467, not 468, according to every other marker of time in the LoGH universe.

And now for something extremely disturbing: An official LoGH-branded Kircheis roomba exists. When it’s low on batteries, it says, “I won’t be able to serve you anymore, Reinhard-sama.” Sadly, this is real and I’m not making it up.