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3d-wifey · 2 years

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Once More to See You: Of Departures and Homecomings

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader Synopsis: Anthony is not one for flowery musings. He isn’t a poet, nor does he spend his time admiring the arts or waxing poetics about beauty and such. No, he leaves that sort of thing to his brother. But as you peer up at him with expectant eyes, the lights of the chandeliers painting you in a soft yellow, he can understand why a war was waged over Helen of Troy. Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: N/A A/N: I wrote this after watching a shit ton of Anthony tiktok edits and 3 episodes of Bridgerton. Ao3 link + Playlist

You have always preferred Autumn. The changing of the leaves, the rainy days spent inside, and the crisp air that carried a cool breeze. As you and your mother stand before your carriage, the breeze you love so much comes to soothe the heat of humiliation from your face.

Your mother is steadily advancing in her pregnancy and you both will be making the journey from England to Paris to be closer to your father. The decision to move was a sudden one, giving you only a few weeks to get your affairs in order and say your goodbyes. The Bridgertons, a family who had practically taken you in and treated you as one of their own, have come to see you off.

Lady Violet Bridgerton and your mother converse the way only old friends can. Eloise gave you a book that reminded her of you to read on your journey, Colin and Benedict gave you advice surrounding noblemen that you were confident was largely nonsense, and you and Daphne exchanged tearful hugs. Even the little ones said their goodbyes before running off to play.

You should have left by now. But everyone knows who you are waiting for, and everyone knows he won't come. All except—

"Just a few more minutes." Daphne reasons. “He’ll be here.”

You have already been waiting for over half an hour. There is only so much small talk your mothers can make on your behalf before it becomes truly pathetic. Despite all of that, Daphne is sure Anthony will come and no amount of convincing will persuade her otherwise. Stubbornness is a trait they both seem to possess.

You sigh. "Daphne—"

"No. He promised me he would be here to see you off." Overwhelmed with your own business, you gave Daphne the task of informing her family about your departure. She told you Anthony had given her his word that he would be here to bid you farewell and that he wouldn't miss it for the world. You may not have been there for the discussion, but you’re sure she embellished it to make you feel better.

"You should have seen his face when I told him. He was miserable, truly."

In reality, your relationship with Anthony is partial at best. There has never been any indication that he has ever felt the same as you. At most, he sees you as a sister. But if that were the case, he would be here now, ready to see you off with a bittersweet smile. You know it’s only wishful thinking on your part to think he sees you as anything more than his sister's bothersome friend.

"Well, I guess I am not terribly important to him." You jest, but you can tell it had fallen rather short. Just as well. You didn’t find it too amusing to begin with.

"You cannot possibly believe that in earnest—"

You grasp her hands before she can try to convince you to stay any longer.

"Daphne, I understand what you are trying to do, and I thank you for it. But if Benedict throws me one more pitying look, I will be prone to hysterics." She huffs a laugh before a look of disconcertion takes over her features.

She shakes her head. "I just do not understand why he has not shown."

The wind picks up, ruffling your hair and the skirts of your dress, as well as giving you a good excuse for why your eyes are welling up.

"Nor do I. Now, I'm afraid if I do not get into the carriage, my mother will drag me by the ear herself," you kiss each other's cheeks in farewell, "Write to me?"

"Of course. You needn't even ask."

After you and your mother climb into your carriage and set off on your course, it is much harder to disguise just how hurtful his absence proved to be. You had held out hope that Anthony would come to his senses and he would show you the kind of love that all the great poets wrote about, but that was just the childish musings of a girl. It is nothing less than tragic just how long it has taken you to see how little he cares for you.

As the familiar scenery of London fades away outside your window, you find yourself barely suppressing a sob. It is mortifying to be weeping over a man who has never given you the time of day, and, yet, here you sit crying into your hand. Your mother pulls you to her side and you let your head fall to her shoulder.

"Maybe he will write to you."

You say nothing of how little you believe that and, instead, bury your face in her shoulder.

After settling down in France at your father's estate, the next three years went by in a blur for you. Many things changed, but your one solace was Daphne, and never once did her letters falter in frequency.

She told you all about the gossip back home and in turn, you made sure not to spare a single detail about how different the nobility of Paris was compared to London's. You gushed about how much your brother had advanced in his learnings and she wrote to you about her etiquette training.

She told you of her insecurities surrounding marriage and how she doubted she'd have a love like her parents and you told her about how utterly isolated you felt. You weren't able to attend her debut, but you were able to send as much advice as possible.

Through it all, you never received a single letter from Anthony. You didn't hold it against him. It just proved you valued your friendship more than he did if it could even be called a friendship. It was more so him just indulging your embarrassingly childish crush. A crush that, despite the years, hadn't quite gone away.

Though she did it sparingly, likely for your sake, you found yourself becoming giddy when Daphne mentioned him in your letters. Your heart would kick up in speed as your fingers traced his name on the rough parchment. There were many a night where you wished he would suddenly write about how much he missed you and your company.

However, as your mother adjusts the feathers on your head for what must be the thirtieth time, you realize that’s all trivial to think about. Your parents have allowed you to push it back for two years now, but you can no longer delay the inevitable.

It is time for your debut.

You haven’t told Daphne of your plans to come back to London before the queen this season, hoping to surprise her. She had told you Eloise would be debuting as well so you know the Bridgertons will be in the crowd.

Your mother adjusts the hem of your gown one more time before the guard at the door gives you the signal. It’s your turn.

"Miss Y/n Dupont...presented by her mother, the Right Honorable Countess Dupont."

The grand doors open before you, displaying an aisle with people on either side and the queen seated at the end. You summon all of the lessons in etiquette your mother had drilled into you and walk forward.

Your entire life has accumulated into this one moment. Each of your steps are steady and sure as you cover the distance between you and the queen with your mother at your back. Your chin up high, back erect, and a delicate smile on your face.

You bow into a deep curtsy before her majesty. In the crowd, familiar faces catch your eye. Though they have matured with age, you’re able to make out the Bridgerton family's faces fixed with surprise and delight respectfully.

"Very good, my dear." Queen Charlotte praises with a slight smile. Though it isn't as big a reception as Daphne got last season, it’s by far the best anyone has gotten all day and certainly more than you were expecting.

As practiced, you and your mother back up and bow once more before walking back down the aisle.

The debut was cut short with the arrival of Lady Whistledown's latest column. Shortly before you and your mother leave to prepare for the ball, you hear your name being yelled from outside the carriage. You look out the window to see Daphne frantically waving.

"Stop the carriage!"

You push the door open and ignore the hand of the coachman as you all but jump out. She calls to you again and you gather your skirts under you, walking as fast as you can to her without it being considered running.

She meets you halfway in an embrace that nearly knocks the air out of you. Wedlock seems to give one abnormal strength.

"Daphne," you pull away from her, "or shall I say, Your Grace."

"You most certainly shall not," you giggle at her scandalized face, "Daphne will suffice."

"Well, you must forgive me, Daphne. It is not every day one's friend becomes a Duchess."

It isn't long before the rest of the clan comes to say their salutations.

"Oh, you looked wonderful out there, dear!" Violet gushes as she pulls you into a hug. Her motherly embrace is one you have particularly missed. She squeezes you once more before moving over to your mother, who you completely forgot about in all the excitement.

You thank her before greeting the other young lady who was supposed to debut along with you.

"Eloise, look how much you've grown," the last time you had seen her, she was barely at your shoulders, "I'm so sorry your debut was interrupted."

"You need not worry," she waves you off, "Believe me, this has worked in my favor." You are, in fact, inclined to believe her. For as long as you have known her, Eloise hasn’t been keen on the feminine traditions women are expected to take on in the Ton.

One by one, you catch up with the people you regard as a second family. Exchanging stories of your journeys and things you missed in your absence and it’s as if no time had passed at all.

Until he steps forward.

You knew he would be here—you did, and you had gone through many possible scenarios of how your meeting would go. What you would say, how you would act, how he would react to seeing you if he would react at all.

However, many things are different in theory than they are in practice. In theory, you would keep your cool in his presence and he'd be utterly floored by your manner. In theory, he would be the one vying for your attention and you wouldn't even bat an eye.

Yet, in practice, your heart races as his eyes lock with yours and you feel awfully close to being ill.

In practice, you’re the same as when you left three years prior: wholly and positively in love with Anthony Bridgerton.

"Countess Dupont," he bows his head to your mother before pausing a breath, "Y/n." You falter at the sound of your name rolling off the tongue of the one voice you have wished to hear for what felt like ages. If your relationship had ended differently, on better terms, you would have lunged at the opportunity to say his name in turn.

As it stands, you are both past that easy companionship you once shared.

"Lord Bridgerton," for some reason, you can see Colin and Benedict give twin winces in your peripheral vision, "It has been far too long." It feels as if everyone has stopped to listen in on your conversation. Probably because everyone has stopped to listen to your conversation.

You feel yourself grow warm as the weight of everyone's gaze falls upon you, but none heavier than his.

A series of expressions pass over Anthony's face, none of which you can even begin to parse before he swiftly settles on indifference.

"I would have to agree," he clears his throat, trying—and failing—to clear the stilted air between you both, "Though not time wasted, it would seem. You've been in good health, I hope?"

"I have been well. And you?"

"Much...of the same."

You thought you had loosened the hold that the incident had on you and removed any lingering bitterness you had, yet it seems it still dictates your interactions with him. Despite your muddled feelings towards him, you can’t help but notice he’s just as handsome as you remember.

Thankfully, Colin steps forward before the conversation fails even further.

"Not to interrupt this remarkably stimulating tête-à-tête, but—actually, I would very much like to interrupt it."

"Colin Bridgerton!"

"Oh, we were all thinking it, Mother!"

Lady Danbury's ball is in full swing. Dreary debutants and maddening mamas swarm the room like locusts, setting their sights on any eligible bachelor they see.

Anthony looks out over the soirée and deems himself lucky that his reputation keeps him from being approached. He knows he will need to marry, sooner rather than later, but he can’t find it in himself to settle for a marriage of convenience.

Maybe some part of himself, some part of him that hadn't died with his father, still holds onto the childish notion of a love match.

Though, not everyone can be as lucky as Daphne and Simon.

His siblings don’t share the same resistance to consorting as he does. Eloise in particular should be on the lookout for admirers like the rest of the debutantes.

No, instead of socializing, they spend their time recounting his reacquaintance with you in great, mortifying detail.

"You should have seen his face when she came through the door, Eloise. I'm surprised his eyes didn't roll out of his head with how wide they were." Colin stage whispers to their sister.

"I especially loved the part where he froze up when she called him "Lord Bridgerton". You're a real," Benedict pauses, wide-eyed at Anthony's glare, "charmer. I'm sure the poets envy your eloquence."

"It couldn't have been that bad." When he saw you debuting before the queen, the only thing he could focus on was how much you had matured since the last time he saw you.

No longer were you the young girl chasing his coattails. The girl—the woman he saw was nothing if not awe-inspiring. But he can confidently state that he hadn't expected such a cold reception from you. You greeted him as if you were strangers and walked away just the same.

"Oh, no. It was horrendous. Ow," Eloise yelps as their mother pinches her arm, "I guess it could have gone worse. Somehow."

"Chin up, brother. It's only up from here," Colin chimes in before mumbling into his drink, "Hopefully."

Lord Almighty, strike him down now.

Before he can defend himself, a hush falls upon the room. Ladies whisper behind fans and gentlemen stare in awe, himself included, as you come through the entrance arm in arm with your mother.

Of course, he came to support Eloise, but he can admit in the safety of his own mind that he had hoped to see you as well. And see you, he does.

As it is, the daughter of a foreign Earl would garner plenty of attention, especially one as beautiful as you. But with the Queen giving you such a phenomenal reception, it seemed your allure only soared.

All eyes follow you as you and your mother greet Lady Danbury before making your way toward his family. Did you notice the effect you had, the attention you reaped?

Your royal blue dress sways with each of your steps as you come closer and his breath catches in his throat before he forces himself to swallow around it. You bow your head in greeting.

"That is a gorgeous dress!" His mother compliments you before kissing your mother's cheek in greeting.

"Why, thank you. We brought it with us from France." You preen. Had you always had that slight Parisian lilt to your voice? How hadn’t he noticed that until now?

"She looks lovely. Right, brother?" Benedict's sharp elbow nudges Anthony in the arm as he stares at you. Later, he will thank Benedict for giving him this opening. But, for now—

Anthony is not one for flowery musings. He isn’t a poet, nor does he spend his time admiring the arts or waxing poetics about beauty and such. No, he leaves that sort of thing to his brother.

But as you peer up at him with expectant eyes, the lights of the chandeliers painting you in a soft yellow, he can understand why a war was waged over Helen of Troy.

"Stunning. You look—stunning." You hold his gaze for a moment before looking away, seemingly bashful. He wonders at what point in your lives did he become someone you hid yourself from.

"Thank you, my Lord." There it is again. That steady growing distance between you and him. You bow your head in thanks before turning and starting a real conversation with Eloise.

Is that all you’ve him to? An afterthought?

He interjects at multiple points in your conversation, adding his input in hopes that he'll grasp your interest, but you don’t even spare him a glance.

"There are plenty of young men in attendance. I wonder who will approach me first." You grin at Eloise—who undoubtedly does not share in your enthusiasm—and your eyes are bright with excitement as you look around the room.

"I'd advise proceeding with caution. You shall be surprised with what these pests will attempt for a foreign wife of large title and an even larger dowery." He speaks up once again and, finally, your attention turns to him.

"Is that so?" He doesn’t know what to say to you when you look at him like that, eyes wide with curiosity as you peek at him from under your eyelashes and he falters. Instead of coming up with a witty or even articulate response, Anthony sputters in a way that he is sure looked reminiscent of a fish on dry land.

He’s determined you really don’t know the effect you have.

"As it is your first season, and you don't have a brother here to help you sort through the excrement, I'd like to offer my services as a chaperone." He proposes as if it is a benevolent act of charity and not a thinly veiled excuse to keep you close to him. An excuse he is sure you see right through.

"What of Eloise?" Your mother asks.

"She has two other brothers who will keep a close eye on her. Right?" He looks over at Colin and Benedict who both turn to each other before nodding in agreement.

He is thankful they both choose at that moment not to make an ass of him.

"While that is a very generous offer, my Lord, it is wholly unnecessary. Not to mention improper, as I am not your sister." He needn't be reminded of that. It is a fact he is well aware of.

"Yes, you most certainly are not," the corners of his mouth twitched up as he clasp his hands behind his back, "And forgive me, my Lady, I had not thought of it that way."

"Yes, well, with those sorts of suggestions, you will lead many to believe you do not think at all. Now, if you all will excuse me, I have a dance card to fill." Your smile is stiff as you turn your back on him to continue your rounds with your mother.

He is sure you meant the remark to be scathing, and if anyone else had said it to him, it might have left him scowling. Still, when you look back over your shoulder at him with a satisfied smirk in place, he can’t help but smile in turn.

"Why is he smiling? That was worse than the first meeting." Eloise voices.

He sees Benedict shake his head in his peripheral. "I haven't the slightest clue."

"You must forgive me for staring, my Lady, but I've never met anyone as…exotic as you. The French have always intrigued me."

Next partner.

"Pardon me for asking, but what am I to expect in terms of your dowery?"

Next. Partner.

"My profession? I'm sure it's too complicated for your delicate sensibilities. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

Next. Partner.

By your fifth round of dancing, the conversation with your potential suitors only further declines in quality. You hate to admit it, but Anthony's earlier statement proved true. You seem to be a lighthouse for vermin. Perhaps you should have taken him up on his offer, but the very idea ignites your nerves.

Spending the entire night alone with a man like him—even with your mother in attendance—is dishonorable and calls for scandal. Even if said man holds no affection for you.

You take a break from the dancing and horrid small talk by the refreshment table. If you knew the company in England was so dull, you would have stayed and debuted in France. You could have spent time with the number of Bridgertons in attendance, but you need a moment of respite.

"Escaping by way of refreshments?" You sigh into your drink at the accented voice coming from behind you. Though you know it is the entire reason that you attended, you are getting tired of pompous men thinking they are owed your time.

"Yes, though it doesn't seem to be working considering your being here." Your posture straightens like a cracked whip as you spin around, you hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I'm so sorry, I hadn't—"

"No need," he laughs, "You were only being honest. Rarely do people of high standing speak their minds. It’s refreshing." Despite what he said, you are still mortified at your behavior.

He bows before you, "Count Henri LeClair." The name LeClair seems familiar, but you can’t put your finger on it.

He is quite a bit taller than you, at least by a head. His dark brown hair shines copper in the light and warm brown eyes peek up from beneath his fringe. A red, velvet coat is tailored well to his lithe frame.

You curtsy in turn and introduce yourself.

"Ah, I already know who you are. Um, our fathers, they worked together in France."

"Oh, LeClair! Yes, yes I've met your father before." That's why the name seemed so familiar. The Right Honorable Count LeClair was a family friend before his untimely death, but you had only met him after you moved to France.

"So, you're the little Henri he spoke so fondly of," you grin up at him and realize little might be an inaccurate description, "What are you doing in London?"

"Perhaps I can explain while dancing?"

He holds his hand out for you to take as the band readies themselves for another set. He would definitely be the best dance partner you've had thus far. And he’s quite pleasing to look at, so even if the conversation did fall through you'd at least be in good company.

"Perhaps you can." You take his hand in yours and allow him to sign his name on your dance card before he leads you to the dance floor.

There are some lulls as there often are in discussions and he isn't the perfect conversationalist, sometimes speaking too little or too much, but you eventually find your rhythm with each other.

It isn’t terribly engaging and you aren’t swooning at everything he says, but he’s easy to talk to and you enjoy actually being able to speak freely.

He explains to you that he began his tour in Europe and decided to start in London before continuing his journey to Ireland. Under the urgency of his mother, he decided to stay for the debut and look for a wife.

"Thank you for this," you smile at him as the violins reach their crescendo, "I was afraid I would be doomed to a night of dull conversations with even duller men." He spins you under his arm before he pulls you back towards him. You follow him step for step as he leads.

"I hope you do not mind me asking, but do you...already have a courtship with Lord Bridgerton?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

You blink rapidly, taken aback. "Whatever would make you think that?"

He nods over your shoulder towards the other side of the room where the Bridgertons converse amongst themselves. Your mother and Violet are locked in conversation, Colin and Benedict are chatting on either side of Eloise, and at the end of that line stands Anthony.

His face is pinched with a deep furrow between his brows. His lips are pursed together in a thin line and his jaw is stiff. That’s all normal. What isn’t normal is the way his eyes haven’t moved an inch from your dancing form.

There is no telling how long he has been watching you, and if you didn't know any better, you would assume he’s jealous.

But you do know better.

Daphne's whirlwind of a season is no secret to you and you had read enough from her letters to know how much Anthony's overprotectiveness had played a hand in it. It wouldn't do to have him scare off any of your potential suitors as he did for her.

"He's a family friend, nothing more." You say far harsher than you meant to. It is the truth, no matter how much you wish it to be the opposite.

Best not to think about that.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton/reader #once more to see you #im really excited for this one

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zuzu-draws · 8 days

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So after the spoilers for Chap 257 dropped, I saw some tweets clarifying the meaning of the Kanji Sukuna used in the chapter when referring to his mother, and the overall reveals in the chapter got me thinking.

I’m making this post as a way of gathering my thoughts, personal speculations and where I think all of this connects to Sukuna’s character and the information Gege has given us over the years. Nothing I say is by any means new information, but like I said, I’m just collecting my thoughts here. By the way, just a warning, this post contains SPOILERS for the JJK Manga! If you don’t like that, please don’t read this!

Something I’ve noticed is that the theme of “Hunger” and symbolism of “Cooking/Food” is heavily referenced with Sukuna throughout the Manga. Gege in a previous Fanbook has disclosed Sukuna’s favorite Hobby to be “Eating”.

This theme is again very much ingrained within Sukuna’s cursed techniques and even his Domain Expansion, the “Malevolent Shrine”. With his two main techniques being “Dismantle” and “Cleave” are cutting-type attacks. He is also able to use a Flame-Arrow, and Fire is essential for making Food. The Shrine in his Domain Expansion literally has mouths on all sides, looking eager to chew down anything in-front of them!

This symbolism also heavily influences Sukuna’s own manner of speech, and the way he speaks to other characters in the series as well. With his post-fight chat with Jogo before his death, Sukuna mentions Jogo lacking the “Hunger” to take control of his desires, preventing him from reaching the heights of Gojo Satoru. Before the Start of their fight in Shinjuku, Sukuna called Gojo a “Nameless Fish on top of his cutting board”, and that he was going to start by “Peeling off the scales”(refering to Gojo’s infinity). There’s also further symbolism that supports this by analyzing the Kanji and meaning of Sukuna’s “Malevolent Shrine” but I’m not very educated on that so I won’t be opening that point here.

What all of this points to is that Eating and Food……is extremely important to Sukuna, to the point that it literally affects him in manners innumerable.

Eating is an instinct, a necessity for the survival of every single living being.

And In the face of extreme Hunger and starvation, even those with the strongest will could lose their Humanity and revert to the basic animalistic side of their existence. (The Heian Period also had a Famine, although I believe the timing to be a bit off, but do with this info as you see fit)

In JJK Chapter 257, it is revealed to us that Sukuna and his Twin were most likely starving in the womb of their starving mother.

On the brink of starvation, Sukuna had to consume his “other self”(his twin), so that he could survive.

Btw, this tweet and this thread gives additional characterisation to Sukuna:

Link to the original thread: Link.

More context (and reactions :P):

Link to original thread: Here

This reveals to us that indeed, Sukuna was born a twin. And as we all know, “Twins” are seen with extreme scrutiny in Jujutsu Society, they’re not well liked. This too in a period where Cursed Spirits and Jujutsu Sorcery was at its peak, it is not far-fetched to assume that his Mother may not have been treated very well by the people in her surroundings, especially as she bore twins.

When Kashimo asks if Sukuna was born the Strongest or if he made himself the Strongest, this is the response Sukuna gave to him:

When you think about it, how do you think the people around them would have reacted when the woman: who was supposed to birth two twins, gave birth to a single child instead? and that child had consumed his other twin in the womb itself?

No doubt people would’ve been horrified, disgusted and even revulsed. With the woman and her newborn child.

This would’ve led to their further ostracisation in the already very close-minded society. Unable to fend for herself and her newborn child, it must’ve been difficult for Sukuna’s mother to survive. I feel like somewhere along the line, Sukuna was left alone to fend for himself at an extremely young age. To protect himself from both Curses and Society alike.

This is why I believe Sukuna knows what true starvation, weakness and hunger feels like. Both in the emotional and literal sense. He was left without another person caring about him or his well-being, in a cut-throat period where it was “Fight or be killed”.

Powerful curses roamed all across Japan, nowhere was safe. Simply be strong, or you'll die. There's no room for weakness. And initially, a kid!Sukuna was weak, as anyone would be in the beginning when they're just starting out in this world. (and maybe, he didn't have much to eat, leading to long periods of starvation? :') )

I believe it is this debilitating hunger, and feeling of weakness that eventually led to Sukuna’s current Hedonistic mindset.

He’s essentially traumatised by it, and believes that it was his own weakness that led him to experience this sheer starvation. That he deserved to feel this way because he was weak then. Perhaps, the people around him were right, that as long as they have the power and strength to overcome anything, they’re free to do as they please; And there is nothing anyone else could do about it.

I feel like the irony here is that Sukuna himself, must’ve been a “weakling” before eventually rising the ranks to become History’s Strongest Sorcerer. This is also why he values Strength so much.

Ultimately, Sukuna has decided that there was nothing more important than being strong enough to fulfill your own desires. And “eating” is one of his most important desires. It’s his favourite thing to do, the one he derives the most pleasure out of. And like an animal, whose main focus is to consume, consume and consume. He too, simply consumes.

Most morals likely have no meaning to him. He doesn’t care who he hurts, what he does, as long as he’s able to get what he wants. And this isn’t limited to eating.

This is why people referring to Sukuna as a “Natural Disaster” is so befitting of him. Because Natural Disasters also don’t care about what or who they’re destroying, they just come and go, wreaking havoc appropriate for their nature and magnitude.

I believe Sukuna himself has said lines similar in nature, when talking to Kashimo:

Now I’m not sure how Sukuna perceives or even experiences this “Love”, because I think he has a rather very warped idea of it. I do think that this definition of love is similar to the one that Gojo also understands, but I don’t think he knows what “love” truly is. I’m not sure how I could comment on this, but I do think that Sukuna’s emotionally starved, whether he realises that or not.

Because, like Kashimo himself asked Sukuna “What is the point of dividing your soul into 20 different parts and then traversing across time if you’re satisfied with this?” we do not know the answer to that yet.

But many people have speculated that “Black Box” panels in JJK manga represent a curse (either self-inflicted or put by someone) on the speaker. Like, take a look over here where Sukuna reiterates the same dialogue, except it looks like he’s trying to reassure himself:

This once again shows that Sukuna has only ever strived for himself, in the same hedonistic fashion, to a very very extreme degree. It is possible that he's been lacking something, and he himself does not realise that he’s lacking it. Maybe it was this subconscious feeling, that led to Sukuna agreeing to Kenjaku’s plan of dividing his soul into 20 different parts, and to traverse across time as a Cursed Object.

Sukuna’s an incredibly complex character, and I’m excited to see where this goes. Gege has put extra care in the way he characterizes and depicts Sukuna, and again, I’m really sad that a lot of that characterization gets lost in translation. Still, I’m going to try my best to understand and get the most accurate feel of his character as I possibly can.

If you made it this far, Thank you for reading! And if you would like, please do leave a comment in the tags or replies because I would love to read what other people think of this and just Sukuna in general. I do not see a lot of people doing critical analysis of him, and a lot of his actions are seemingly swept under the rug. I don’t like that, so hopefully this contributes to people focusing more on Sukuna and his character. (/^v^)/ <3

#ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #king of curses #heian era #character analysis #manga #jjk manga #jjk 257 #this is...so very long omg im sorry for my huge word vomit #like 1.4k works but i really did felt like i wanted to gather my scattered thoughts into one place and kind of make the connections #not sure if anyone is gonna read this but if they do #thanks for reading! be sure to let me know what u think!#i just love psycho-analysis of my fav characters and being able to really understand the essence of their characters #their emotions their motivations and to finally be able to do that with Sukuna and reading what everyone else have to say about it ahhh #im super excited! We're finally getting close to the Heian Backlore!! rejoice!!#my gut always did tell me he was a tragic character T_T and now we're finally getting the tid bits #also apologies for adding different panels #but i only added the translations i liked #i don't like J*hn W*rry's translation like yuck #so ima wait for Lightning's translation notes~ for further clarifications!

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