Forgive me if I'm a bit nervous about Gorgug this season. It's just that the last Zac Oyama pc was Colin Provolone, who was arguably one of his greatest D20 performances, if not the greatest.
Zac always does great with every pc he plays, but Colin was something else. He came out swinging with actions and words that were teeming with unspoken emotional baggage. The way Colin's presence affected the other pcs; there was this level of depth that I don't think I've seen in any of his other characters. It was understated and quiet in that signature "just a guy" way that he tends to be, while still captivating everyone instantly with just how raw it was.
Not to say we haven't seen emotional depth in Gorgug. It's just that, compared to the other Bad Kids, Gorgug's journey and progression as a character has been very... impersonal? Like, yes, he found his birth parents, and he found friends who appreciate him, and he faced his insecurities about his intelligence, and he navigated relationship troubles, and his trial through the claustrophobic bug-tunnels was a horrifically-uncanny parallel to how he's spent his entire life trying to make himself as small as possible.
But how much of that has actually changed him from the Gorgug we started with? I would agree that he's definitely happier with his life, given all the loving and supportive people that have been added to it when it used to be just him and his parents. And he's certainly grown into himself and become more self-assured in his abilities, even if he's still, and always will be, our anxious little guy. And there's nothing wrong with that. I've always liked how Gorgug was a representation of all the little things. The subtle acts and kindnesses that don't seem like much to most, but to some are everything.
We don't need another Bad Kid living in fear that their mouth could be shit-in at any moment. We've already got one-too-many.
All that being said, I just feel like Gorgug's personal story beats are much easier to sweep under the rug than everyone else's. He has the same soft and understated quality that Colin held, but they lack that extra oomph that pushed Colin over the edge from being just another guy in a series of dudes, to a character that the vast majority of us could not get out of our heads. He took someone who was anxious and softspoken, who ultimately never wanted to be violent— someone who is remarkably similar to Gorgug in many ways— and maintained that demeanor and core in Colin's character while still hitting us in the feels with character development at max velocity at every turn.
I think Zac gets better and better at this with every season that goes by. With each new character, there is always something that leaves me stunned in awe. And it's been, what, three? Four years since we last saw Gorgug?
I'm just,,, I'm cautiously optimistic but also going into a bit of a worry about what violence this man may inflict upon us
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i remember someone asking you for the second years favorite out of itafushikugi but who do you think the trio’s favorite senpais are?
& who do you think the adults (nanami gojo shoko yaga) favorite students are?
I'm assuming we're talking about the sea glass gardens universe for this and not canon.
Megumi: Yuuta. No competition. I'm pretty sure this is straight up canon with his comment that Yuuta was the only one of his senpais that he actually respected. He and Yuuta have a special relationship, even if Megumi isn't aware of his Boyhood.
Barring Yuuta, Maki would be his favorite. They have identical bitch instincts and are always on the same wavelength. They wander the world as these beautiful judgmental assholes and it's their ideal existences. Soul siblings.
I see Maki as sort of slowly growing into her place as Megumi's family. At the start, neither of them were exactly looking to forge blood family ties, what with their history, but I think they both understand what it's like to have the Zenin lurking on your periphery in a way no one else does. They look out for each other.
Nobara: Maki. I also can't debate canon on this one. Nobara simply adores Maki. And has a crush on her the size of Jupiter. She doesn't know Yuuta and has sworn revenge on him for winning the last Goodwill event, so Yuuta's out of the running, and Panda and Inumaki are her constant torments.
Still, were it not for her appreciation for Maki as her senpai (re: rampant Homosexual Desire), I think Panda would be her favorite. They have identical asshole instincts, not that Nobara would ever admit it. Remember them teaming up during the Goodwill event? Nobara secretly has a soft spot for Panda, except for all the moments where she wants to beat him with a hammer.
Yuuji: I think it's actually Inumaki. Maki and him get on great because they both can compete athletically, but Maki's disposition is more suited to Megumi. She's harder for him to connect with for him on a personality level. Inumaki's also very athletically inclined, and I see them becoming jogging buddies now that Yuuta's in Africa.
I see Inumaki looking out for him a little when he first arrived, the way he did for Yuuta. Yuuji's not the sort to be phased by the difficulty communicating, and I think he respects the hell out of Inumaki as a jujutsu sorcerer.
If we count the Kyoto students in this, his favorite is Todo, but that may or may not be Stockholm Syndrome. He. He got swept up in it. It happened so fast. He doesn't know how this happened or if he's allowed to leave. It kind of scares him.
Yuuta is not even in the running for Yuuji's favorite. The thought of Yuuta torments him. He's just all sparkling and perfect in Africa, what with his curse-free existence and unstoppable power and having Megumi as his boy and what not. Just. Fuck off.
Adults
Nanami: He has no favorites. He cannot play favorites. He has raised one of these children, as adopted another, and has played a very large role in teaching a third. It would be wrong to select favorites out of them.
But also it's Yuuji.
It's not that he actually likes Yuuji better than Megumi or Yuuta or any of the others; it's more that Yuuji's his student. Megumi's practically a son to him, but Gojo was the one who took the lead on raising him and training him. And while he will always do his best to support Yuuta, by the time he met Yuuta, Gojo had already become the sort of adult pillar of support in his life.
Yuuji's the one he took the lead on training. He was there when Yuuji first had someone die, first had to kill. And Yuuji reminds him so much of Haibara that it hurts sometimes. He has a soft spot for him.
Gojo: Gojo will play favorites. It's Megumi.
Sue him. His kid is his favorite. That's his little boy. He watched him grow up from the angriest first grader he ever met to the angriest high schooler he ever met. He's always gonna have a bit of a soft spot for his Megs.
If he couldn't pick Megumi, it would be Yuuta.
Again, sue him for playing favorites, but Yuuta's someone he's just endlessly proud of. He watched Yuuta go from being curled up on the floor of an execution chamber to being the most promising sorcerer of the modern age. Yuuta really gives him hope for the future and the next generation. He just adores the kid.
Shoko: If we're talking sea glass gardens, I think Megumi would win by default just because she has less face time with the kids and Megumi is the one she helped raise. She's his wine aunt. She's always gonna wanna pinch his cheeks and harass him about his hair. But if he's out of the running, it's Nobara. She reminds her of her at that age. Mostly in the fact that she's endlessly suffering from her two idiot best friends's mutual homosexuality. Shoko relates to Nobara on a spiritual level.
Yaga: Panda. That's his little boy. I'm pretty sure this is canon too--Maki explicitly states that the principal plays favorites with Panda in JJK0. He raised Panda and thinks of him as his own son. He adores the kid.
If Panda's out of the running, it's Megumi.
This is also because he remembers when Megumi was a little kid. He didn't help raise Megumi the way the rest of them did--he got cut out after the Zenin incident--but he remembers before, when he was trusted with Megumi. A part of him is always going to remember Megumi as the quiet little boy who used to hide under his desk to read.
I also just see him as keeping more distance from the kids. he's not as actively involved in their teaching. it's partially an act of self protection to have distance--a lot of kids don't make it to graduation. So his favorites are going to be the one he spent the most time with--namely panda and Megumi, just by pure default.
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thinking of babea au and lilith forced to seek refuge in her childhood home with an injured bea.
lilith standing in the foyer, stooping to heft beatrice into her arms and she smells of ozone, of burnt-out matches. her hair smells of cedarwood.
the apparition of her mother looking shrunken next to a suit of armour, wineglass in hand, and beatrice only half-aware of anything (mostly aware of lilith’s warmth, her neck, her breath when she looks down as though afraid that beatrice will suddenly stop breathing) but struck by the thought that lilith must have found her silence somewhere. here.
the quiet she carries with her, and how when she laughs it feels like the air has cracks in it. beatrice craves that sound, but the foyer echoes. lilith’s childhood home is full up with silence.
lilith stands, ignoring the steady drip, drip of bea’s blood onto the tiles, how it smears the family crest. she stares at her mother over the wrinkling of bea’s brow, her soundless sighs committed to the tomb of lilith’s throat and she feels, for an instant, like she’s holding a flame instead of a girl.
holding a match for too long and begging it not to burn her fingers.
her mother says her name. that’s all; ‘lilith’ in her sepulchral tone, eyes roaming over the bloodied shape of beatrice cradled in her arms. all the bullet holes are gone, ringed by blood but incapable of harming her. there’s a handful of them sitting inside lilith’s pocket, digging into her thigh.
she doesn’t know why she picked them up, except perhaps that they were soaked in bea’s blood and she didn’t want to leave them in the alley where she dragged beatrice. where she listened to her in the dark hiccupping blood as mercenaries flickered past them in the street beyond.
lilith had to wrap her body around the cruciform sword. it glowed like a beacon. she manged it, mostly, but the light caught beatrice’s eyes. they caught on her pain as though on broken glass.
her mother stares as they trail blood over the parapet floor, the carpet, following after lilith as she lays beatrice down on one of the sofas. it’s more of a loveseat, really, and looking at it in the lamplight lilith is struck by a smaller, cleaner version of herself sitting cross-legged, a book open in her lap.
beatrice lies there, bleeds there. it’s mostly from her arm, where lilith watched a divinium-laced bullet strike her, spinning her back into lilith’s arms, blood erupting over her fingers. beatrice was already full of bullets, listing from the halo’s fading burn, but the sight of that unearthly blue light glimmering in her skin made lilith more afraid than she thought was possible.
somewhere between the family crest and the sight of beatrice dampening the sofa cushions with blood, lilith’s mother seems to find her voice.
she opts for Italian, which only makes beatrice’s lips twitch, and lilith has to fight back the insane urge to kiss her. not in front of your mother, fool!
this of course swiftly followed by, and why would it matter?
instead, lilith smooths beatrice’s hair off her forehead, ignoring the sweat and dirt that follows the sweep of her palm. “rest,” she commands, picking up the old version of her voice from the days when she used to pin beatrice to the mat in cat’s cradle and lean down close to say “yield.”
“where are you going?” out of spite, beatrice says this in Latin, which shortens it tremendously.
even with her mother’s eyes on her, lilith can’t help but dip down, darting a quick kiss to beatrice’s forehead. “just rest. i’ll be back.”
she dumps her duffel down next to beatrice, hoping and yes, maybe praying, that she has what she needs inside.
“what was that?” her mother says as lilith moves back out into the foyer. her body wants to tremble but she holds it still, moves to the staircase like a thief stealing into heaven.
her mother follows her with a string of complaints as she digs out clean clothes for bea (hers, old, trying to pay no attention to what she chooses).
lilith fetches warm water and washcloths, she tries to breathe. the response, when she asks after food, is “why on earth would I know what we have to eat?”
she carries it all back to beatrice, takes the first aid kit from her duffel. forced to cut through bea’s armour to reach the only intact wound. she makes herself listen to beatrice’s unguarded cries of pain as she takes the shards of divinium out of her shoulder. the halo flickers, gleams, replaces bea’s blood which is just as well.
there’s so much of it on her hands.
her mother hisses at her for ruining the furniture and lilith feels herself go still and quiet.
“you should be happy. aren’t you the one who told me that anything the halo touches is holy?”
bea slipping into consciousness just long enough to hear lilith say, “well, here she is; the holiest thing you’ll never get your hands on.”
her mother leaves. there’s the sound of an engine starting, a door slamming. then a better silence.
she bandages bea’s shoulder and kisses her properly, careful not to get any more blood on her face. “time for bed,” she mutters.
“can’t… don’t think I can walk.” beatrice is only half-awake.
“i’ll carry you.”
a hand on her chest, “no. just be here.”
lilith makes up a bed for them on the floor. she lights the fire with wet wood from the shed outside that spits as it takes the flame.
the next morning bea sits at the kitchen nook, wearing lilith’s old taekwondo hoodie, tracing the logo on the sleeve with her fingers while lilith burns their scrambled eggs
lilith, slightly chagrined, sets down a plate of overcooked toast and dry scrambled eggs. bea looks at her and it’s an odd expression. it’s the look she saves for the ocean, or for certain flowers.
they eat, bea tucking into her tasteless meal like she’s never eaten before, pretending she can’t see lilith looking at her with a sort of bleak fondness.
because bea’s hands are trembling as she holds her cutlery and she looks strange and small in lilith’s hoodie and a pair of old sleep shorts. they’re eating at the breakfast nook in the kitchen that her mother never uses but where lilith used to eat lunch (and dinner if her mother was at a party). it feels sacred to her, somehow. feels right to find beatrice sitting there.
bea makes a short noise of delight, noticing a big, uncoordinated ‘LILITH WAS HERE’ carved into the wood right at the edge of the table. she makes lilith scoot over next to her, points to it, then shamelessly takes advantage of their closeness to tuck both her hands into one of lilith’s sleeves so she has to eat left-handed. clumsily.
lilith rolls her eyes, but she laces her fingers through bea’s, and kisses her again.
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giving Nagi head....
I imagine him being more on the sensitive side;; the warmth of your month and teasing licks makes his head spin and he starts subconsciously buck his hips and might cum in your mouth without warning... He's sorry, but he really couldn't help it when you make him feel so incredible,,,
this is honestly adorable to think about oouhohhojhgjgh i love nagisa
minors do not read or interact !!!!
gn reader — blowjobs , praise , general fluff ww
nagisa is so good at keeping his composure. it's something you can't help but admire about him. so it's fun to think about the different ways you can break that rock solid façade, y'know?
you definitely take your time with it. he's a patient man, such a good boy, he can handle a little waiting for what he wants! as soon as you say that, his eyes flutter a bit, and that's where the fun begins. the seed was sown.
slowly, you get on your knees and rub his thighs over his pants before pulling them down to his knees, but not his underwear yet. no, you palm him through the thin fabric, and his hands twitch at his sides before he runs a hand through your hair and down your cheek. a silent coaxing for more, you can tell. so you move forward and mouth at him through his underwear, and you can feel him get fully erect against your mouth.
you giggle under your breath, mumbling a little "cute" to make him twitch before finally pulling him free. you hear him sigh in relief, his hand returning to your hair. you stroke him with both hands, taking your time working him. one hand presses flat against his tip , rubbing it in circles while the other pumps him at a snail's pace.
the whole time, you feel his hand flexing in your hair, moving between gripping it tightly and resting flat. his hips twitch beneath you, and he mumbles a soft please the more you stroke him. looking up, you see his head is leaned all the way back, but you can still tell he's completely flushed by the red of his ears, his breath a heavy pant.
this takes a complete 180 when you lick his crown. his body jolts, and he leans forward over you. both of his hands are on your head now, and he can't stop himself from basically whimpering as you start swallowing him. he fights against pulling you fully down over his cock, but it's so hard when your tongue presses against the underside, putting pressure on the thick vein there when you bob your head.
within seconds, he's moaning your name every other breath, fingers completely tangled in your hair and hips bucking into your mouth. you celebrate internally at how you've gotten to see him letting go like this, showing that by returning moans around his length. he's so lost in the pleasure that neither of you realize how close he's gotten through all of this. not until his breath hitches suddenly, and his hips tremble under you as warmth floods your mouth. you swallow it as fast as it comes, but sticky white still drips from the corner of your lips, and nagisa sighs deeply in estascy.
when the rush finally stops, he pulls out from your mouth and lifts your chin up to be equal with him. his tongue flicks out and licks his cum from the corner of your mouth, and he kisses you gently, mumbling apologies and praises both against your lips.
you'll have to do this more often.
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