#tes and gogol

[gogolscanonwife]

MY NEW COMMISSION IS FINALLY DRAWN

Winter telai like hot chocolate and marshmallows :3

if you want cr, ask!

proship thin ice ..

[ludtak]

Who fucks you

[gregor-samsung]

" Russia! Russia! Ti vedo, dalla mia meravigliosa, bellissima lontananza vedo te: sei povera, dispersa e inospitale; non hai arditi prodigi di natura coronati da arditi prodigi d'arte, che rallegrino o intimoriscano gli sguardi: città con alti palazzi dalle molte finestre, cresciuti nelle rocce, alberi pittoreschi ed edere cresciute nelle case, fra lo scroscio e il pulviscolo eterno delle cascate; il capo non si piega all'indietro per vedere massi di pietra che sopra di esso si innalzano senza fine verso il cielo; non scintillano attraverso bui archi sovrapposti, avvolti da tralci di vite, d'edera e da miriadi di rose selvatiche, non scintillano attraverso di essi in lontananza le linee eterne di monti radiosi, che fuggono in limpidi cieli d'argento. Tutto in te è aperto, deserto e uniforme; come punti, come piccoli segni, modestamente spuntano in mezzo alle pianure le tue non alte città; nulla lusinga e incanta lo sguardo. E dunque quale forza incomprensibile, misteriosa, attira a te?

Perché echeggia e risuona senza tregua all'orecchio il tuo canto malinconico, che vola per tutta la tua lunghezza e ampiezza, da mare a mare? Che c'è in questa canzone? Che cosa chiama, e singhiozza, e stringe il cuore? Quali suoni baciano dolorosamente, e vogliono penetrare nell'anima, e si avviluppano intorno al mio cuore? Russia! Che vuoi dunque da me? Quale legame incomprensibile si cela fra noi? Perché mi guardi così, e perché tutto ciò che è in te mi rivolge occhi pieni di attesa?… E ancora, pieno di perplessità, io resto immobile, e già sul mio capo incombe una nube minacciosa, gravida di piogge future, e il pensiero ammutolisce davanti alla tua vastità. Che cosa profetizza questa vastità sconfinata? Non deve forse nascere qui, in te, un'idea infinita, quando tu stessa sei senza fine? Non deve forse apparire qui un eroe favoloso, quando c'è spazio in cui possa agire liberamente e muoversi? E minacciosamente mi afferra la vastità possente, riflettendosi con forza tremenda nel mio profondo; i miei occhi sono illuminati da un potere sovrannaturale: oh! quale distesa fulgente, splendida, ignota alla terra! Russia!… "

Nikolaj Vasil'evič Gogol', Anime morte, traduzione di Paolo Nori, Feltrinelli, 2009.

[Edizione originale: Мёртвые души, 1842]

[reds-self-ships]

WELCOME TO MY SELF SHIPPING BLOG! 👋

My name is Red, my pronouns are he/him, and I'm gay as fuck for several fictional men who are also gay for each other. It's fun!

A full list of all my f/os (romantic and platonic) is available on my Carrd - see the link below. Romantic self ship tags are available below the read more.

I'm fine with sharing, too, btw.

⛔ DO NOT INTERACT:

You're LGBTQ+phobic (this includes exclusionaries, TE//RFs and "gen//der crit//ical" people, too);

You're a pro//shipper (as well as anti-antis, comship, etc.);

You're a MAP/PEAR/etc.;

You're anti-self shipping, or;

You're otherwise here to cause drama or discourse.

I operate on a strict no-abuse policy. You send anything abusive, you're blocked on-sight. End of.

💖Romantic F/Os and their tags

You can follow or block at your leisure - Listed in order they were F/O'd in.

Ryunosuke Naruhodo - Dai Gyakuten Saiban/The Great Ace Attorney (Husband - M. May 12th 2021) - OTP: Red Dragon

Judge Q - The God of High School (Boyfriend/Partner) - OTP: Red Joker

Kazuma Asogi - Dai Gyakuten Saiban/The Great Ace Attorney (Boyfriend/Partner) - OTP: Red Headband

Chuya Nakahara - Bungo Stray Dogs (Boyfriend/Partner) - OTP: Red Wine

Ranpo Edogawa - Bungo Stray Dogs (Boyfriend/Partner) - OTP: Red Detective

Zimelu - No Straight Roads (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red Robot

Sebastian Moran - Moriarty the Patriot (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red Rifle

Kurima Raizou - Revenger (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red Revenger

Von Herder - Moriarty The Patriot (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red Gun Freak

Nikolai Gogol - Bungo Stray Dogs (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red Overcoat

Mateo Thiago - Cyberpunk 2077 (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red Cocktail

David Jones - Criminal Case (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red and Blue

Dick Grayson/Nightwing - DC Comics (boyfriend/partner) - OTP: Red Protector

[honnomushireads]

Racconti di Pietroburgo - Nikolaj Gogol’

No, sul serio, Gogol’, io mi preoccupo per te.

Oltretutto non ho capito se il naso ha ancora la forma di un naso o se è un naso che è diventato una persona? Lo scoprirò o resterò confusa? Sento che resterò confusa, ma diamogli una chance.

[uneasylisteningradio]

House Parts January 27, 2024

Image: Moomin House! listen to the show

Bay City Rollers - Saturday Night Irma Thomas - These Four Walls

DJ speaks over Brad Linde, Patrick Booth, Aaron Quinn and Jonathan Taylor - Housetop

Paul Whiteman and His Orchestra - I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise Public Enemy - Raise the Roof K.U.K.L. - Open the Window and Let the Spirit Fly Free Emitt Rhodes - With My Face on the Floor Dislocation Dance - Roof Is Leaking

DJ speaks over Delia Derbyshire - Door to Door

Men Without Hats - Ideas for Walls The Shangri-Las - Footsteps On the Roof Crass - Walls (Fun in the Oven) Milton Nascimento and Lô Borges - Paisagem de Janela Viagra Boys - Down in the Basement The Toms - The Door Dropdead - Foundation BEIRUT SLUMP - Staircase Come On - Don't Walk On the Kitchen Floor

DJ speaks over The Sensational Guitars of Dan and Dale - Batman and Robin Over the Roofs

Fugazi - Shut the Door Cleoma Breaux - Leve Tes Fenetres Haut Sprung aus den Wolken - Auf dem Boden Stampfen Lithics - A Highly Textured Ceiling Rat Cage - Spitting on the Ceiling Plastic People Of The Universe - Okolo Okno Eighth Route Army - Outside My Window

DJ speaks over Blue Oil - Free Fleas on the Roof

Tactics - Standing by My Window Hassisen Kone - Seinat Litige - Sur les toits Eddie & Ernie - Who's That Knocking at My Door Sophie Pascal - Je ne Frapperai a Ta Porte Stranger Cole - Stranger At the Door

DJ speaks over Lithics - Cricket Song Through Open Window

Dianah - Kelderbeat Überspannung - Boden Beakers - I'm Crawling (on the Floor)

DJ speaks over The Living Strings - When Loves Comes Knocking at Your Door

Gogol Bordello - Through the Roof 'n' Underground

[leblogdeciccio]

"Appena una cosa qualunque t'attrae o ti piace, non ti occupi che di quella, e il resto per te vale meno di niente, il resto non serve a niente e non lo degni neanche di uno sguardo."

Nikolaj Gogol’ in “Racconti di Pietroburgo”

[gogolscanonwife]

Telai are kissing

cr on art

[20071969]

fyolai unrequited love (my friend bell hates me for this)

[rausule]

Aan Anna Karin letterkunde lesse 2

uiters aangename en presiese manier, na ons opvatting van tyd. Hy is die enigste skrywer wat ek ken wie se horlosie gesinchroniseer is met die tallose horlosies van sy lesers. Alle groot skrywers het goeie oë, en die 'realisme', soos hulle dit noem, van Tolstoi se beskrywings is deur ander verder geneem; en al sal die deursnee Russiese leser jou vertel dat wat hom in Tolstoi fassineer die blote realiteit van sy romans is, die gevoel om ou vriende te ontmoet en bekende plekke te sien, beteken dit niks. Ander was ewe goed om briljant te beskryf. Wat die gemiddelde leser werklik fassineer, is Tolstoi se vermoë om sy fiksie met tydelike waardes te gee wat presies ooreenstem met ons sin vir tyd. Dit is 'n geheimsinnige geskenk wat nie soseer 'n prysenswaardige eienskap van genialiteit is nie, as iets wat tot die fisiese aard daarvan behoort. Dit is hierdie balans, absoluut uniek aan Tolstoi, wat die hoflike leser daardie gevoel van alledaagse werklikheid gee wat hy geneig is om toe te skryf aan die skrywer se indringende visie. Tolstoi se prosa loop hand aan hand met ons polsslag, die karakters beweeg skynbaar teen dieselfde pas as die mense wat onder ons venster verbygaan terwyl ons sy boek lees.

Die vreemde feit is dat Tolstoy eintlik taamlik onverskillig was in sy omgang met die objektiewe idee van tyd. In Oorlog en Vrede het aandagtige lesers gevind dat kinders te vinnig of nie genoeg grootword nie, net soos in Dooie siele, ten spyte van Gogol se aandag aan die kleredrag van sy karakters, merk ons ​​op dat Chichikov 'n beerveljas in volle somer gedra het. Maar Tolstoi se afleidings het niks te doen met die indruk van tyd wat hy dit regkry om aan ons oor te dra nie, met daardie idee van tyd wat presies ooreenstem met die leser se tydsin. Ander groot skrywers was ook bewustelik gefassineer deur die idee van tyd en het bewustelik gepoog om die beweging daarvan uit te druk; dit is wat Proust doen as sy held van In Search of Lost Time by 'n laaste onthaal opdaag en mense sien wat hy al lank ken wat nou om een ​​of ander rede grys pruike dra, en dan besef hy dat grys pruike eintlik grys hare natuurlik is en dat hulle oud geword het terwyl hy in sy herinneringe rondgedwaal het; of let op hoe Joyce in Ulysses die tydelement oplos met die stadige en geleidelike deurgang van 'n opgefrommelde stuk papier op die rivier van een brug na 'n ander, wat dit die Liffey na Dublinbaai en die ewige see laat reis. Tog was hierdie skrywers wat die waardes van tyd direk aangeraak het, nie in staat om te doen wat Tolstoi byna onbewustelik doen nie: hulle vorder stadiger of vinniger as die leser se pendulum; dit is Proust se tyd of Joyce se tyd, nie gewone gemiddelde tyd nie, die soort amptelike tyd wat Tolstoy op een of ander manier daarin slaag om oor te dra.

Geen wonder dan dat ou Russe saans oor tee praat van Tolstoi se karakters as mense wat werklik bestaan, mense met wie hulle vriende vergelyk kan word, mense wat hulle so duidelik sien asof hulle met Kitty en Anna en Natasha by daardie bal gedans het of het saam met Oblonsky in sy gunsteling restaurant geëet,[94] soos ons binnekort sal eet. Lesers noem Tolstoi 'n reus, nie omdat ander skrywers dwerge is nie, maar omdat hy altyd presies ons statuur is,[95] wat presies teen dieselfde pas as ons stap eerder as om ons in die verte verby te steek soos ander doen.

En in hierdie konteks is dit nuuskierig om daarop te let dat alhoewel Tolstoi, voortdurend bewus van sy eie persoonlikheid, voortdurend in die lewe van sy karakters inval en voortdurend die leser aanspreek, dit eienaardig is om daarop te let dat in daardie groot hoofstukke wat sy meesterstukke is, die skrywer word onsigbaar en bereik sodoende daardie ideale onpartydigheid wat Flaubert so heftig van skrywers geëis het: om onsigbaar te wees en oral te wees, soos God in Sy heelal. So kry ons af en toe die gevoel dat Tolstoy se roman self skryf, geproduseer word deur sy onderwerp, deur sy onderwerp, nie deur een bepaalde persoon wat sy pen van links na regs beweeg en dan teruggaan en 'n woord deurtrek en dink en dink nie. krap sy ken deur sy baard.[96]

Soos ek reeds gesê het, is die ideoloog se indringing in die kunstenaar se terrein in Tolstoi se romans nie altyd goed omskryf nie. Dit is moeilik om die ritme van die preek los te maak van die ritme van die

[laragazzacadutanellimbo]

In una lettera del 26 Ottobre 1964, Calvino scrive a Sciascia:

"[...] Ma tu hai, subito dietro di te, il relativismo di Pirandello, e il Gogol via Brancati, e continuamente tenuta presente la continuitá Spagna-Sicilia: una serie di cariche esplosive sotto i pilastri del povero illuminismo in confronto alle quali le mie sono poveri fuochi d'artificio. Io mi aspetto sempre che tu dia fuoco alle polveri, le polveri tragico-barocco-grottesche che hai accumulato.

[...] Vorrei vedere in faccia il tuo demone, sentire la sua voce.

[...] Sii ispano-siculo e magari arabo-siculo fino in fondo e vedrai che sarai universale. E io che predico tanto? Be', parlo di te per cercar di veder chiaro anche in me."

Questa è una di molte lettere che esprime il rapporto di sinceritá, di ammirazione e di rispetto reciproci. Questa lettera rappresenta il fulcro dell' <<illuminismo mio e tuo>> di cui parla Calvino e che lo lega a Sciascia. Ma non si tratta soltanto di un legame affettivo, ma anche di un legame che accomuna la loro scrittura, le loro opere letterarie. Pensandoci attentamente, essi condividono molto: anni di nascita vicini; un orientamento politico legato all'illumismo settecentesco che converge nella letteratura; la scelta della brevitas, o meglio, della short story; il lavoro nel campo dell'editoria: Calvino presso Einaudi, Sciascia indirettamente presso Sellerio; una scrittura asciutta, lucida, veloce ma profonda.

Piú importante ancora nell'elenco di questi elementi manca ciò che rende fondamentale quell'illuminismo e cioè il perseguire sempre e comunque la veritá, dire assolutamente quella limpida e giusta veritá attraverso l'esercizio della scrittura, attraverso la costruzione di quei racconti lunghi di Sciascia e di Calvino. Entrambi gli scrittori parlano di attualitá e dei problemi dell'Italia, uno in chiave non-sense e fantastica, l'altro in una chiave analitica manzoniana, pirandelliana, brancatiana, siciliano-spagnola, siciliano-araba, siciliano-barocca.

Nonostante i punti di contatto in comune, non mancano le opinioni opposte riguardo alla cronaca e riguardo alla politica.

(Continuo nei commenti! ⬇️)

#bribiofila #leonardosciascia #lilluminismomioetuo

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[concombre-2-mer]

"-Que voudrais-tu ? Dis-moi ce que tu veux ! Ordonne ! Demande-moi l'impossible ! Je ferai tout pour toi ! Demande-moi ce qui est au-delà du pouvoir de l'homme : je te le donnerai ou je mourrai. Je me détruirai ! Et, je te le jure sur la Sainte Croix, ce serait une joie pour moi de mourir pour te sauver, oui, une joie inexprimable !"

Gogol, Tarass Boulba

[madtomedgar]

books read in june and july:

The Poppy War, R. F. Kuang: I don’t want to say too much about these because I have friends reading them who aren’t done and I don’t want to spoil. I really enjoyed this one. It was a fresh take on fantasy, and I really liked Rin and the way the author constructed the interiority and unreliability of her characters. It was a little tropey and predictable but the tropes were all very well executed so that didn’t detract from the story at all.

The Dragon Republic, R. F. Kuang: I think this is the strongest of the series. Really great. The two criticisms I have are that this is an author writing naval battles who doesn’t know much about boats, which is frustrating to me since I know some, and that this is where the problems with simplifying several decades of complex history into a couple years and a handful of larger-than-life characters start to show. Otherwise fantastic.

The Burning God, R. F. Kuang: I... really didn’t like the ending. I think if she’d taken more time, and maybe had a fourth book, it would have felt cleaner, less rushed, and made more sense. I also... really really didn’t like the way Rin’s arc ended, so overall, disappointing. It kind of seemed like she wrote herself to a point where she couldn’t figure out how to carry the allegory and the characters forward and just kind of... did that and published, instead of delaying and figuring out something that didn’t feel so trite. I think, however, that it’s something she’ll get better at as she matures as a writer, and a book series being otherwise solid but falling apart at the end isn’t the worst thing in the world or all that uncommon with sff. so.

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno Garcia: I FUCKING LOVED THIS BOOK!! It’s got. Everything. It’s creepy! It’s gross! It’s gothic! It’s got! Rot as horror! Immortality as colonialism horror! Patriarchy as horror! Fucking chilling analysis of women who concede to and prop up partriarchal horror shows! It’s fucking gross!! The final girl gets to save her friends! The fucking! Writing!! 10/10

Land of Big Numbers, Te-Ping Chen: Good! Reminds me of Guy de Maupassant’s “The Necklace” and some Gogol stories I’ve read. She balances the stark realities of normal life in an authoritarian society with the petty follies and foibles of her characters, and the intensity of their feelings, really well, and in that particular kind of... vaguely 19thc combination of arch distance from her subjects’ feelings, in order to use them to illustrate the farce of modern life, with really conveying the characters’ earnestness so strongly that it’s almost uncomfortable for the reader.

Every Day is For the Thief, Teju Cole: Holy shit. This is easily in my top 5 books for the year and possibly top 10 ever. Cole’s writing is devastatingly beautiful, the pictures are amazing and in combination with the writing really bring a sense of place in a way that I don’t run into often. The whole... “you grew up here and you left under a cloud, and now you come back, but you can’t ever really come back because the places and people you knew are gone or changed, and you’ve changed too much, and any way you don’t really want to, but also you can’t ever really leave because this is where you will always either be returning to or not returning to, and it will always define you that way. And you grew up here and left under a cloud and so you have a unique scathing contempt for all its issues and also a heartbreaking and unbearable fondness for it and this gaping need for it to be the version of itself you needed and this bleak knowledge that this is all it will ever be.” Anyway you should read this book it’s amazing.

Direct Action: Protest and the Reinvention of American Radicalism, L.A. Kauffman: Really detailed look at how different left groups and movements in the US from 1969 to 2015 have used and understood direct action. I learned a lot from this book and it challenged my thinking on the value of action beyond its strategic value (which is how I’ve primarily thought about it, as a tactic), and the way non-heirarchical, consensus based, or action oriented frameworks became white, and how and why that’s changing. I did think the author’s contempt for the Lesbian Avengers was a little much, and seemed more a reflection of her experience with and relationships with the Avengers chapter she’d worked with and its members. A history of movements through the lens of a tactic was also an interesting way of looking at things. Not groundbreaking, but a good read if you’re doing movement work or interested in direct action. Dealt mostly well with movements that lost big, but I still think the idea that the loss wasn’t so bad because of the ideologies or relationships that grew out of it is... a little tritely optimistic.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: Pre-ChuuRanPoe (Ranpo caught feelings)

Word Count: 1,126 Words

Summary: The ADA, the Port Mafia, and the Guild save their friends.

Warnings: Blood Mention, Blood Drinking Mention, Attempted Assault Mention, Cursing, Vomit Mention, Death Mention, Injury Mention, Seizure Mention, Fighting Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

How Poe Stumped Ranpo: Chapter 14

Ranpo had the plan down pat once Carroll had told them the whereabouts of their friends. The Guild and the Port Mafia had also agreed to help as backup, so they'd filled empty ranks with each other, forming teams that, at first, were laughable, but became apparent that they'd work.

Their front wave was obviously Dazai along with Chuuya, Kouyou, Kunikida, Kenji, Fitzgerald, Lucy, Twain, and Steinbeck. The second wave, were they needed, held nearly everyone else besides Yosano and Ranpo.

Yosano was to stay safely away so she could get the hostages the antidote and Ranpo's ability wasn't useful for this raid. They'd only run into a slight issue when people they didn't know went in, none of whom were Anderson, but they wouldn't stop the plan now.

"You're so pretty. Even broken." Michizou refused to look at Anderson. Hot hands on his thigh, gripping tightly to it. He'd willingly put himself before Ryuunosuke, so he could take the pain instead of him while Jouno, Tecchou, Fyodor, Sigma, Nikolai, Jun'ichiro, and Edgar could keep the kid safe away from Anderson.

Anderson shoved a bag of blood against his mouth, nicking it on his fangs and he was forced to drink from it as it pressed in more. He ignored the warm hand on his leg, the pain in his ankle from it being broken incurred from kicking at Anderson an hour ago.

He was sure he deserved it somehow. A traitor and a spy, thus why he offered himself in Akutagawa's place. The kid didn't deserve to deal with this, he did, he was sure. This was his punishment for being a traitor.

He'd heard that Anderson was going to show off his test subjects to the remaining Hunting Dogs later today. He didn't want Fukuchi and Teruko to laugh at his weakness but he knew they likely would.

"Oh, would you look at that, guess we arrived a bit too early. Put yourself away, Anderson." Fukuchi? Was that Fukuchi? He was suddenly left alone, Poe coming to his comfort, holding him close and keeping him safe.

"Sorry, I didn't know you'd come in early to see my work." Anderson identified the man.

"What the fuck?" Teruko? Then it sounded like someone threw up. Michizou decidedly didn't like that sound and burrowed into Poe more. Michizou hid away even more, he didn't want them to see him like this. Poe was helpful enough to put the blanket around them both and hid him away in the safety of his arms.

"We need to make sure the effects can be transferred." Fukuchi told them.

"So who's the test subject?" Anderson asked.

"You, of course." Michizou felt fear spike through him, like his heart would stop. One of them had to infect Anderson?

Poe couldn't even bring himself to pity Anderson on the ground, blood leaking from the marks they'd all been forced to make on his neck. Somehow, Akutagawa had hit his carotid, he was bleeding out.

Fyodor, who refused to do it, was getting beaten by Fukuchi, blood on the floor and he had vomited twice, more blood on the floor, shaking when he moved. Then he looked almost inhuman the way he was on the floor.

A seizure like Naomi had, but Fukuchi kicked him into a wall once more to be sure. Poe tried not to cry over Fyodor, he didn't want to shake and let go of Michizou, who was shaking in his arms.

Poe heard odd sounds, someone else was in the building besides the Hunting Dogs and Anderson. Its booming steps were terrifying as they came closer, closer, he hid Michizou against himself to protect his vulnerable friend.

Jun'ichiro scrambled up onto the bed with Ryuunosuke to keep him away from whatever that was, away from whatever fight was about to happen. He'd also dragged Gogol up, who brought Fyodor, Jouno, Tecchou, and Sigma to hid away against him.

Gogol was careful of the vulnerable state Fyodor was in, the hair Sigma had knotted into the chains again and his broken right knee to match the left, Tecchou's still injured hip, and Jouno's newly broken left arm. Jun'ichiro hid himself and Akutagawa in the blanket as well, pressed up to his side, holding Poe's head close to his shoulder.

"Chuuya." Jun'ichiro told him. He understood, that scary mafia executive was here and not drugged if the sound of him using his ability meant anything.

"Aw, Chibi, let me have some of them!" Dazai whined.

"Just do your job!" Chuuya giddily used the ability inhibitor drug Yosano had manufactured from the drug this morning so the arrest could be easier on the guards the remaining Hunting Dogs had brought.

"I didn't give you blood for you to mock me." Dazai whined some more, but eventually did his job, taking out guards.

"You two could hurry up, you know!" Kenji sang from his end of the hallway, holding up two guards he'd used the new drug on and arrested, Kunikida, annoyed, carrying another guy and Kouyou was behind Chuuya, a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Get off of him." Fitzgerald ordered the redhead girl who had rushed near the prisoners, doing something to the chains.

"Come on." The girl grumbled. "I can't get it open." She was hovering around his subordinate and the others that were on chains.

"You're helping them?" Fitzgerald asked.

"Tachihara may have betrayed Fukuchi, but what could he have done that warrants this kind of treatment?" She growled, fighting the chains.

"Stand aside." Chuuya ordered.

"No, I have to get them out. I have to. This isn't right." She fought.

"Stand aside." Chuuya's voice was more tense.

"I can't leave them here!" The girl snapped.

"Come here." Fitzgerald grabbed them, pulling them away, fighting. Red covered the chains and they snapped off wrists in pieces.

"There." Chuuya offered.

"Michizou. Jouno. Tecchou." Teruko's hands were gentle on Michizou's back. The warmth of her hand wasn't burning since Anderson hadn't gotten to drug them for the night yet.

"Teruko." He muttered, leaning into her.

"Come on, you and Fyodor, at least, need to go to a hospital." Teruko urged him.

"We have beds set up at the agency for everyone to stay so someone can always keep an eye on them and make sure they're getting better." Dazai told them.

"Did anyone bring the spare clothes?" Dazai asked.

"I did!" Lucy exclaimed, showing off the clothes she'd brought, various sizes. "Miss Yosano insisted on baggy clothes just in case." She explained.

"Thank you, Lucy." Poe quietly thanked her.

"Be careful, Michizou." Sigma urged the redhead.

"His ankle's broken." Gogol explained to Chuuya and Fitzgerald's confused faces. "He kicked Anderson earlier to protect Akutagawa."

"I can help you." Teruko offered.

"Fine."

Taglist: @pink-sweater-stan @everythingisstardust @starlightnyx @lgbtqforeverything @joylessnightsky