So, it's been a while. I have been working on getting back to writing and while I would love to be totally ready it's still a work in progress. But! I did right this for a friend in the JJK fandom; I am nervous about putting it out as its a big fandom but I like the ideas even if the charecters are a bit OC, so, work with me here and I will try to star working on answers on here soon!
It was quiet. It had always been too quiet on this little stretch of street where Suguru had finally tipped their fates (Suguru had loved him Satoru knew, he had, he had been the only one to love Satoru and not the Six Eyes or Gojo-dono; but, ultimately he had loved less than his ideals. And yes, Satoru had clung to those ideals too but – he had never stopped loving Suguru without them as a racist, genocidal, phyco- people always forget what Six Eyes meant, that Suguru had been fully visible the entire ten years, Satoru had never once not known what his beloved was doing and even so the love had never changed; fuck he would never have been caught by Kenjaku if he hadn’t loved Suguru even when he thought Suguru was trapping him forever-, he had only ever killed Suguru because the madness was eating out everything in his best friend by then). This place had been nothing to them before that, they had never eaten here, they had never even walked this street and yet -! Slowly Gojo closed as many eyes as he could to this hated place (Suguru had loved him but not enough, never before other things, and by the end there with what was- in retrospect- frightening mental health problems that were corrupted by the amount of negative energy Suguru consumed- Satoru had spent years trying to figure out what happened, what went wrong and in the end he realized; curses were born of human pain, the hate and fear and depression and greed and all the negative things, all of which Suguru consumed with no block to keep that terrible emotion from his brain and spirit, no RCT to clear it, no help. In the end it broke him- in the end broke them both as what love he had for Satoru turned painful and cruel.).
He didn’t blame Suguru, it wasn’t like he tried very hard to keep them together when he was drowning under his own terror (how do you live with death? With knowing what you are at your basest level groveling to death in the dirt and yet still being forced to be what the world wanted?) and the ever growing reach of Six Eyes (people always thought about Limitless, they forgot that there was a reason the Six Eyes were called the mark of divinity) and the cold call of his awakening (he didn’t want to be a god, he didn’t want to be divine, he wanted to be a man that was loved as men are – ha, what a joke, he should have known then that it would end like this); always fighting to be human after his ascension until it was too late and he realized they all wanted a god to begin with.
Pain prickled down Gojo’s spine and all this eyes snapped open, the six on his face followed by burning eyes on his arms and chest and he grit his teeth, trying with all he had to guide Yuuta’s hand as his child struggled to pilot the body of a god with the brain of a child. He probably shouldn’t have told Yuuta he could do this but – Yuuta was about to die, Megumi was already dead and Yuji was crumbling, his perfect sons withering the world Gojo left to them. But Yuuta doing this (god, that one of his boys would have to choose to be what Gojo had always been, a weapon to a world that would cast them off without thought…. It was fine if that was his fate, he was born to it, to be a hanged god and he fought that fate, but Yuuta was free to choose, and he was trying to be the thing Gojo should have been in his honor. It was perhaps a blessing that the Six Eyes couldn’t weep and betray Yuuta shattering in a vessel to divinity), Yuuta doing this gave Gojo a sliver of a chance, just a slanted cut of his true power reaching through death to his boys in life and spreading over time like a vail over a mission site; this was the opportunity he needed to make it right for his sons, the rest of the Jutsu world could hang, he served them in life and death, had been their King-Martyr in every way he could, he fought curses in every nation in the world as the Gojo clan was tasked to, he had been everything he could and he had loved them and they had cut him open without a thought- Shoko!-.
He had been the Breaker of Curses, the First and the Last, the Eyes at the End, the Infinity of Blood; he had given it all in their redemption and watched the man he had loved most (still loved with every inch of the heart he gave away and never took back), his personal Morning Star, slowly be corrupted until he sought to push Satoru’s hand so far that death was the only answer, and he gave it with so much love it nearly consumed him alive to kill like that (Suguru should have been safe in the Gojo crypt waiting in Satoru’s vault with him, it said a lot of Kenjaku’s power that he had been able to blast that vault open). He had let them break him and though he could have been King-on-High he had chosen the humble way, chosen to teach rather than to rule, and in the end… he loved in death as he had in life (enough to pretend that that airport was real and not a broken dream – but none of those he had seen there would have welcomed him so, not when he hadn’t fulfilled his purpose yet and defeated Sakuna; Suguru would have hated him for not saving his girls and never would have welcomed the love he hadn’t wanted in life in death. Namami had never liked Satoru or Gojo and would have sneered sooner than smile, Yaga would have just been disappointed, Rika had hardly known him and he certainly hadn’t been as large in her life as she had in his, same with Haibara. No, that had been his mind’s last attempt to comfort him, but his boys needed him more.).
Yuuta’s soul shook with crushing agony and Gojo lifted his head on the cold street filled with shadows and his disappearing heart, the first of his best beloved, six eyes on his face open and burning as the other hundred eyes opened over his skin, the cold rings of Infinity spinning around him like icy blades; cloth seared away to draping shadow and light around his hips and shoulder, scars bleeding gold (BECOMING here in pain and darkness was different form doing so in sunlight and victory). In front of the awoken divinity was a child, small and cold and blue eyed, “We do it then? We never find one to love enough to stay?” the child asked in a small cracking voice and Gojo smiled too wide over serrated teeth. ‘We love like nothing else, a man like fire and shadow and joy, and children like life itself. The man we give everything and his love grows cold when he leaves; the children we love enough to be even this for their sake for they alone would never ask us too.’ The child nodded, glancing back at the retreating light of their most beloved, the first of the host they loved; “He is bright, I can see why we love him; why he is the waning light we cleave to.” the child said, solemn and steady “What do we need to do to save the children?”
And Gojo smiled, leaning down to whisper to his once self and feeling his ties to his sons steady and strengthen; Yuuta’s soul shuddering as the young mind of his first-self reached out (there was much the endless open space of a child’s mind could hold, a future, a soul, a promise made a thousand times). The child vanished to do as he knew he must and Megumi appeared curled in a ball on the sidewalk, frozen in the act of trying to save his first protector; Gojo bent and painted a sigil on his brow in golden ichor blood with one long silver nail, the mark of infinity burning and fading into the boy, stabilizing his battered soul with the stuff of Fate, half divine. The next self to appear was the teen he had been about to enter Jutsu tech, young and afraid, desperate to be allowed to be a human, to be silly and stupid and young; to love and mess up and try and hope, his cousin’s words ringing in his ears “Never forget glowbug, no matter what they say you are human – and if I say so it must be. because I am an expert on the matter!” and Osamu must have been right; he had fled the clan long ago and faced endless pain (not looking like a Gojo, his CT was…. more Curse than most, his fragmented Eyes not fully the clan legacy) and Satoru had been broken with gratitude when Osamu reached out last year under promises of secrecy (Osamu had died a year after Gojo finished school; it was Gojo that had to kill his grief crazed love – for only a god could kill another; he had placed them in a hidden vault in the crypt to sleep together in death as they so rarely could in life).
“oh” his other self whispered, slumping at the sight of the god he would be “Osamu was wrong then.” And Gojo shook his head slowly ‘No, he was right, but we are more than one thing in one time; his beloved is in a god state too and never been less to him. But they died and we can save them both, as we can save the boy you will love soon, as you will some day adore our sons that fought for us. We will never be a human to them, we will always be a weapon but we can choose what kind and how we cut for we are Kings as well as sacrifices and when someday the man that wanted to be a god awakens we will break them for we no longer fear our own nature.’ The younger self curled in on himself, lip trembling, he didn’t want this and had learned to want in the year he spoke to their cousin. “We can save our cousin and his partner?” he asked, for they both knew that to save the man he treasured Osamu would burn the world and laugh to see it; his willingness to want and be selfish in the most selfless way had taught them a lot.
Gojo nodded and Satoru slowly forced his shoulders back as their grandmother was always harping on about; his eyes unsure but convicted, “And what is my task?” Gojo bowed his head in respect and spoke (Haibara would be saved, the clan brought to heel sooner, Tegan forced to BECOME rather than existing in this half state that used children to sustain itself, their cousin and his partner spared, the Elders rained in low with a sliver of godhood, sorcerer children placed in the sponsored prep-home and not allowed to be killed by foolish normals, much would be changed and the world shifted for when the man who would be god reach up to the sky). Yuji crashed out of the decaying future like a comet clutching his brother’s body (of course Yuji would bring others to be saved, brave child) and shaking, eyes wide and broken from all he had seen and the last sight of the world cracking and vanishing into the dark of the Infinite Void as it consumed the future – perhaps even Sakuna would fear that. “Gojo-sensei” he breathed clutching Megumi’s hand when he saw the other boy but not looking away from the burning creature of his teacher, the searing band of light over his first eyes. Gojo didn’t smile as he said ‘Do not be afraid, for the world has changed and it will never again be the same. We shall remake it in our own way and my Domain will never break for I see all and all Fates are mine, be blessed and see the world anew.’
Slowly, trusting his teacher in even this face, Yuji nodded and bowed his head enough to take Gojo’s mark, burning like the dawn in his barrowed godhood (and this, this was why these three would be his only companions in this lonely path, his chosen sons, for they alone would fear him not no matter how many eyes he wore). Choso shivered and softly Gojo told Yuji not to let go of the half-curse less Gojo burn him without intending too; they would take Choso in the world in the place of this moment and free his brothers, but there was one last self to see before that could be done and, aching to his bones with the heartbreak that never really left, Gojo waited for the youth he had been the day Suguru left him in this place to stand from his broken slump on the concrete, his shattered rocking and tiny keening stuttering and slowing after only a long time. Finally, he stood, leaning on the wall to do so as he dragged himself out of the alley he had staggered into to try and hide his shattering world like a wounded animal finds a hidden corner to die. “Will it save him?” that broken boy asked, dead eyed and almost visibly shivering with shock, “Can we save him?” on the ground Yuji made a startled noise, clearly hurting for the young man on the edge of Satoru and Gojo.
‘We can but not for us, his love will never be ours, he will never want us first and only; he will be saved for another.’ Gojo said, the truth cutting his tongue as he spoke it; he had never been able to see Suguru’s Fate around the endless wash of his love for the other man, but some things were just truths. Suguru hadn’t chosen him before, he wouldn’t now, Gojo had had a decade to understand that; for that truth to wear tracks in his heart whenever he glimpsed Suguru intertwined with another (eventually he never checked at night and tried not to see if he was forced to look in that direction, he couldn’t bear to watch his heart love another even if only for a night), resigning himself to that truth, that he didn’t have anything to love, had been the only way to live with the pain and just be glad Suguru was alive somewhere. He could do it again (he would have too). The fledgling god shook like a leaf in the wind and bit his lip till it bled, the sheen of gold catching the last sliver of light before Suguru vanished into the mass of humanity, “If he will be saved then – it will be enough, I will be whatever I must if his heart can just be saved to give to another whole and brilliant.” It hurt to hear as much as it seemed to hurt to say, but it was enough, he had loved often and deeply in his life but never quite the way he had loved Suguru (if Osamu would see the world in flames if it crushed his beloved- and Gojo wouldn’t stop him, his cousin was brilliant and if he said ‘enough’ it was- Gojo would do the opposite, he would see the world made anew into some golden thing under his hand to see that his beloved never drowned under the misery of it).
‘then let it be so’ he said and the last second of the last five minuets of the future of the world ticked down, Yuuta appeared next to Yuji, shattered and clutching Toge’s icy body, the Void consumed the world in reverse, Fates returning to Gojo like fireflies and setting him burning, eyes opening in the air around him the rings of infinity doubling and spinning faster and faster as the last moment of his young self burned out and the world snapped. (In another city a redhead jerked awake as the god in him screamed and laughed in true joy, singing the song of kin awoken and a world changed.)
In a clean white space that could have been an airport a tall, broad man with very long unbound hair froze, his purple eyes alight with anger and his traditional clothing swirling in unseen winds. As if it wasn’t bad enough that ‘Toru hadn’t believed he had been sent to a peaceful rest because he couldn’t imagine he would be so loved, as if it wasn’t bad enough how long ‘Toru had sat alone in crowds, as if it wasn’t bad enough how often he was shunned until needed, as if he hadn’t had to kill someone he loved so much (kami Suguru couldn’t understand why Satoru had still loved him even then, even now, always; Suguru had long since lost any right to that beautiful gift and yet still he was blessed with it) and see their body turned to traumatizing him (and Suguru had almost been allowed the gift of sleeping in death next to the one person that never left him behind if only life had been kind), as if it wasn’t enough to go from the horror of the Prison Realm and all the damage it wrought but to go straight to the killing fields and dead, to being placed alone as the wall against Sukuna exhausted and still aching (why had none of them helped him? Not the children of course but the others, Sukuna never played fair why did ‘Toru have too?), as if the endless march of his life wasn’t trauma enough, wasn’t cruel beyond words, to then even in death be used-!
It made Suguru rage so deeply it shook even the white heavens and shattered the peaceful rest of the ages, his wrath and heartbreak cracked the afterlife right open to searing power and he cared not as he watched his once friend (how could you Shoko? Kami HOW COULD YOU!?!) cut open ‘Toru’s head and shove a child that loved him in like some cheap replacement, like a brain- any brain- was all it took to be the Strongest, to be Satoru. The boy tried no matter how it hurt him he tried but Suguru knew ‘Toru, he knew him, he knew that Satoru wasn’t ok with it he was just unwilling to fight for something he saw as pointless. So beaten down that he didn’t even try not to be used. It was the worst thing Suguru had seen, so many standing apathetic as Satoru was turned from the best of them to a toy, a shell; not a person just a means to an ends and with him his student set on the same path (and yes, fine they didn’t have anyone else to fight but for FUCKS SAKE it wouldn’t have been an issue if they had cared earlier and fought with- for- him the first time!).
All Suguru wanted to do was grab that too slender man and hold him so tight they could never be broken again and yet he could do nothing but stand and shake as he tore the afterlife down with his pain, the cold curls of ‘Toru’s life curling around him (a child too small and alone, poisoned so much his mouth was almost always filled with sores and his nose bleeding, a boy spotting assassins and unwanting family, running to the crypt for the comfort of the dead who couldn’t want anything, taken to every nation even though he got painfully air sick from his Six Eyes, showed off as the prince that was promised by his clan and the new leader, the one that would be called on in every corner of the world to save it, making a ‘human’ personality from snatches of movies and tv shows- loving Digimon as the first thing he saw all of- and hoping he would- could- be loved in this new place, adoring the boy with the purple eyes and power to match him and aching every time he was sneered at for his shoddy people skills or odd habits when he didn’t know better, finally being friends with the boy with purple eyes and still staring all the time now matter how he was teased and scoffed at, trying not to recoil when he was grabbed in ways he didn’t like and spat at for not ‘wanting it’, having to be drugged to give his family the next in line- Suguru nearly lost his mind at that one, he had had no idea that ‘Toru was demi-sexual or that he was being treated like that or worse what his clan demand, it was so horrible that Suguru himself was the only person ‘Toru might have wanted that with and instead he had to see every night Suguru blew off steam with people he called ‘Satoru’ in bed. Satoru had loved and tried and fought and buried so many, his pale cousin and fighting the beautiful man that only loved that cousin, killed as he loved so any times, hurt and suffered and never gave up until the very end).
This – this was enough, Suguru was not allowing this any longer, no more; not again, he might not be fully sane no matter how much he had tried to be his old self for ‘Toru in the airport that wasn’t, but if nothing else it was clear Satoru hadn’t needed that to love him. So no, Suguru was surrounded by all the power of existence after death that stood apart from the world and time itself, he had cracked open the further existence where even dead gods last faded and though all the gods were dead divinity was waking again, two gods stirred in the current of time and Suguru had always consumed power, at least this power wouldn’t destroy his mind as he did it. Satoru would be alone no longer, he would not allow his true faith to be buried under rot again; he had belonged to Satoru at his best and he liked himself best in ‘Toru’s light, he would not allow the travesty of Satoru’s life to continue and if he had to make himself a false-god to do it and stand with ‘Toru he would! He could save his girls other ways, he didn’t need to walk away from ‘Toru for that (he had wanted to protect Satoru then, had known there was something wrong with his mind and cursed energy and not known how to keep Satoru safe from his ever more toxic urges and view; he had to make sure he didn’t slide this time), he could find a way to love safely but first – bending his immense will and obsessive mind on the cold white afterlife Suguru burned in the power he had never conceived of, it wanted to consume him, to eat him as it had the old gods, to sleep as it was meant to and force him to do the same and yet – a man, stunning and pure and sad, soft white hair and heart stopping eyes as he crouched in the light of a sunset and whispered words just for them.
Satoru, his smile and his sorrow and his love, with bleeding lips Suguru grimaced, (Suguru, he was Suguru and the heavens would not be stronger than his obsessive desire, his cruel love was so much more terrible than this place) “This oath I make on the boundary of my soul that it should be consumed if I ever leave Satoru Gojo again, I will never betray him or leave him in truth lest I loose all the power of death beyond time that I have consumed, for I am a god and not, to be his for eternity and it shall only fail when the last rest ceases to be!” it was not a normal Binding Oath at all but he screamed with mad laughter as the power he stood in was forced to bend to his will by his Oath (for how could he keep the Oath if he didn’t have any of death’s power? It was a closed loop, a paradox that forced existence to bend to make true what was not and make him strong enough); he would go to ‘Toru soon, very soon, he would find him in time and follow and then he would never be forced to leave – not even by his own toxic mind and cursed technique. The Oath would make sure of that.
