#i haven't drawn a child in a thousand years for obvious reasons so this was a nice stretch

[charlottetangle]

//THIS IS A GIFT, IT COMES WITH A PRICE WHO IS THE LAMB AND WHO IS THE KNIFE?//

how about that, uh. how we doing after that latest Unsounded update, gamers 🥲

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- [Patreon]

- [Ko-Fi]

[janshu]

Once In A Millennia...P1.

Summary: A thousand years ago you were married to the Sukuna, a mortal man with the power of a god. Bound to him, his "death" leads you to wander the world alone, against all odds. However...his spirit remains and was resurrected by an unknown boy...

Word Count: 1k-ish.

Warnings: Gn!reader, mentions of a past life & family arranging a marriage.

The days had begun to blur into one incoherent mess.

That wasn't too out of the ordinary. You couldn't be expected to remember every moment of every day, not when you had several lifetime's floating around between your synapses. The mundane and monotonous would naturally be forgotten to make room for the impactful and important memories. The one's you hold onto like your life depends on it and maybe in some way it did, life was mysterious in its ways.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that you had seen everything. Every advancement in every field from science to medicine, going from horse-drawn-buggies to vehicles and letters to text messages. Safe to say that nothing was a surprise anymore. What was life's great surprise now? In a thousand years you had seen and experienced everything, from the divine to the depraved.

Life had begun easy. Being only the child of simple country folk who took pride in their work, worshipping the gods in their own special way, you were given more freedom than most in your childhood. Father and Mother had let you wander the secret places of the village until the sun set and dinner was ready, fed and ready for bed you'd lay down on the comfortable cot they had purchased with the earnings from that season's harvest to let you dream the night away. Until he came, that fateful day where your parents made the decision to sacrifice you to the warlord baring down on their home and land. The ultimatum that sealed your fate was simple: you or them and being the pragmatic people they were chose themselves to save.

Now hundreds of years later you weren't sure you should curse or bless them for their decision because that choice set you on the path to where you are now, browsing the morning market like the days of old with the luxuries of the modern age.

That's when you were made aware of it. The creeping cold of being watched, of being found. The inescapable reality of a person exhaling their hot breath against the back of your neck at an angle your neck simply could not turn towards. The feel of a large palm bearing its weight against the curve of your spine with the addition of three more to various hand-holds across the expanse of your body.

"Have you been well, my sweet spouse? The years haven't been kind to you, have they?"

The deep chuckle of a man thoroughly sadistic in the uncaring manner of which they dispatch those he deems maggots, a man changed, a curse upon the world.

Your husband: Sukuna Ryōmen.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten. Wouldn't it be a pity if you've forgotten your husband?"

And when you understandably twist your head around to venture a guess why he of all beings was behind you at a random stall? There was no one. Not the copious amounts of people shopping for their meal ingredients, not even the shopkeepers or the one that was impatiently waiting for you to purchase that fruit and strangely enough: no husband in sight.

An odd hallucination perhaps?

You were being followed, very conspicuously might I add. Clearly they thought themselves to be a master spy by the way they hid behind dumpsters, peeked around poles and made themselves the most obvious person in the ocean of people. Pure lunacy or a power move you weren't sure of yet, the garment they wore a dead giveaway to their intentions. The deep navy uniforms of the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. A sorcerer and not a good one if their sneaking skills alluded to their abilities.

Far more inconspicuously you took a look at the figure with the reflection of a shop's window pane. A young man, average, pink undercut and overall nondescript but there was something familiar about his aura. A sinister darkness that was foreign in his kind features. That couldn't be natural. Sepia shaded orbs trained on your figure with a burning intensity that would set your soul on fire with its pinpoint directness. The more important matter was why a sorcerer was following you. To your knowledge they believed Sukuna was a myth and your marriage to him had been forgotten in the past seven hundred years so was it superstition that led him to follow you? Or did you have a curse attached to you and he was doing his job?

Odd, to say the least.

"Excuse me? Uhh, hello? Uhm..'scuse me."

A hand clamped down on your shoulder from the opposite direction you had been watching the sorcerer. Turning back around what did you find? The very same magic user you had been spying. How did he move so quickly? That was a split moment and he was behind you. How did he manage that?

"Yes?" You responded, face rather devoid of emotions while taking a closer inspection at the sorcerer. Upon closer look he was indeed a boy, in the middle of his teen years at the most yet experience had aged his soul considerably. The windows of his eyes closer to that of a wizened old monk rather than a bright-eyed pubescent teenager. The oddest feature that stood out were the dark tattoo's across the bottom edges of his eye sockets, rather distinguished against the otherwise blank face. Fashion statements got stranger and stranger with each passing century.

The boy appeared to have a goal in mind as his eyes searched your face, your eyes and the windows to your soul. Whatever he was looking for either wasn't there or he kept the discovery to himself because after his hand was removed he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Oops, sorry! Thought you were someone else."

"No harm done, honest mistake."

Without another word the sorcerer boy turned on his heel and retreated in the direction he came from. How he had managed to double back and come from your blind spot was still a mystery, there must've been more than meets the eye on that boy.

Yuji Itadori returned to the First Year dorm hall and slid the door closed behind him as he entered. It was late, much later than when he was expected to be in bed and resting. If anyone had noticed his absence then he'd be in a world of pain. What could be worse than the punishment's Gojo could think up? Well, there was one thing. That tattooed psychopath using his body as a vessel. Whoever that person was had set him off. The control he originally thought he had on the cursed spirit had hung by a thread, a battle on who got to control his body raging on. It was a stalemate, mostly. He had control over the vast majority of his facilities but that uppy bastard had gotten his hand in the metaphorical doorway and pried himself into the driver's sleg. Taking over his legs and waltzing up to them and without a plan. They were lucky he had regained himself right as he touched them, what would've happened if he hadn't? There were moments he went on and on about slaughtering women and children like maggots but was the sight of them enough to cause a sudden bloody rampage? Apparently so.

The transition to phase into the mindscape that kept Sukuna contained was seamless. As if he had walked to another section of a home, could be considered as easy as breathing but whenever he was there it was not because he went willingly. He was summoned.

On the pinnacle of the mountain of bones, perched upon on the throne, Yuji noticed there was a crazed grin on the very man's face. Revealing the pearly whites amidst his bloody gums, eyes wide as he leaned forward. Not looking at his host, quite the opposite but something beyond him. Shoulders cloaked in a white robe rose and fell in time with his maniacal giggles, gleeful and relieved. It would be perturbing if he wasn't used to the grating sound by now. The reason why he was laughing was the disconcerting subject.

"Ahh, there you are, dearest spouse. How long will it take until you return to me?"

[theangrypokemaniac]

I'll state from the beginning that the images below display the sort of sweet synchronicity to which only love can give life:

MaAndPaShipping is the best ship, and here are five reasons why:

1. It Made James

Like the boy do yer? Ever felt the slightest tingle of warmth at the mention of his name?

Well get down on yer knees and give thanks to his mother and father for gifting him to the world!

Where would we be without their remarkable commitment? Could James have grown into the dandified dream boat of your desires if deprived of the safety provided by his parents?

Had they not brought him up, he'd be dead, The Dog of Flanders fantasy made reality. If miraculously he survived, foraging in the wild is not conducive to a foppish personality.

Is that to yer fancy? No? Then let's have a little respect. The luxury Ma and Pa gave enabled his macaroni tendencies to reach such heights.

Their love created him! How can it not be celebrated?

You lot would ship Jessie's parents but you can't, because she has no dad, and I don't suppose you'll ever assent to his obvious identity of Windy Miller, although 'Jessie Miller' has a wonderful ring to it, so what can be done?

Should a Pa Jess be conjured for the purpose, he still buggered off, didn't he? Where's the allure in a faithless git?

I can't comprehend the obsession with Ma Jess. As soon as here she's stiff, and what is there to remember but coercing her daughter into eating snow?

Hey, I named her. What more do you want from me?

I'd rather have the living, visible ancestors, if you don't mind.

Yeah, says the history fanatic.

Why not make the most of the chances offered, and follow a devoted couple whose love made a difference to your existence?

2. Canon!

There are many ships which I find repulsive for involving depravity, or absurd as the subjects haven't met, or don't inhabit the same fictional universe.

Video et taceo: I see and I say nothing.

Neither does anyone. Forcing decent folk in to incest, bestiality etc. is quite alright.

Perverted ideas are left alone, but woe betide a Rocketshipper, because that's offensive.

It may be the only original ship left standing, with proper evidence and sanctioned by Nintendo, but no, it's fair game for undermining. People pick at your arguments, quibble constantly and NEED to register their objections NOW. You MUST be made aware of opposition. You're not to be permitted your views the way those with twisted tastes are indulged.

Why, out of tens of thousands of combinations, does making Jessie and James an item provoke hostility?

The strength of negativity actually serves as validation, for why be so concerned if it's an impossible relationship?

However sick they are, I'm not anti any ship. I can't muster sufficient interest to do it, and if I scroll on, I forget. I certainly don't attack those responsible.

Anti-Shipping is inherently nihilistic for promoting loneliness. They aren't against Rocketshipping through wanting Jessie and James to be with someone else, as an alternative is not readily available, so the outcome of it is neither finding a companion.

MaAndPaShipping attracts no sourpuss silliness, for 'tis canon beyond question. There's nothing about being 'just friends' when married with a son.

How's the state of your O.T.P.? Not looking too clever I expect, and what's your contribution: wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying?

Cast it off! None of that longing is necessary in these quarters, as MaAndPaShipping is a fait accompli.

Hallelujah! Wallow in that Love!

Don't you yearn for at least one ship that all of us accept by default, to the extent these aristocrats are spoken of as a single unit?

Across the internet, Ma and Pa are bracketed as 'James's parents', never 'he' and 'she', always 'they', barely counting as distinct characters. That's how undeniable the love is between them. Sheer indifference has awarded it a blessing from everyone.

MWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

Of course, now I've drawn attention to it the moaning will start, but we all know a spoilsport when we see one.

If they had any legitimate complaints they ought to have mentioned 'em before this piece highlighted the marriage!

Except it won't have occurred to 'em previously, proving the eternal, indissoluble quality of MaAndPaShipping.

You get good value with this one.

Find a post referring to Ma and Pa as individuals and I'll have written it, for that's what you call ironic.

3. It's a Fine Rocketshipping Proxy

I was at primary school when Pokémon hit the West like the bright, bearded meteor it is, atomizing all competition for a child's attention.

I have shipped Jessie and James before I knew anyone else did it, unaware shipping was even a thing.

There are other pairs where I think: 'That seems to fit', but it's incomparable to what I feel for them.

It is part of me. I bleed it.

I have shipped it longer than most Tumblerries have dwelt upon the earth.

I used to believe, what with the hints and manga finale, that this resolution was  inevitable, and all I had to do was wait.

Well I've been patient for two decades now, thus when I look at the modern incarnation, and realise it's no nearer to that goal, and instead is further away, waiting starts to wear a bit thin.

I resent the lack of appreciation shown to the fans by the cretins in charge, how any meagre shippy inclusion is done not with an interest in deepening bonds, but with the blatant cynicism of moulding us into performing monkeys dancing to their manipulative tune.

I dislike being treated like a sea lion, expected to clap me flippers at the wave of a fish, or as a panting dog begging at top table, where, because they're desperate to maintain the status quo, every scrap flung down from above now comes with an Anti-Ship kick in the teeth, just to be sure nothing progresses. Not whilst the franchise can still be milked for all it's worth.

I have lost faith Rocketshipping will happen. What passes for Pokémon today carries not the remotest indication of any intention on the so-called writers' part to finish it that way.

Even if it did, it's not my Team Rocket, it's those skeletal, gargoyle bastardisations. My Jessie and James never got the reward they deserved.

I'm somewhat in the market for a replacement. Beneath this loathsome carapace of acid and ice beats the tender heart of a true romantic, and it must have an outlet!

Shipping Ma and Pa provides a certain spurious relief, because it's as close as you can get to Jessie and James without it being them, both biologically as his parents, but they're so similar to the duo it counts as proof in itself.

Holy Matrimony! is prime Rocketshipping territory, not merely the balloon lift, but many slight additions are as important, like the haircuts matching.

Ma and Pa are therefore Jessie and James in the past, present and future:

The past for representing Jess 'n' Jamie gone Victorian, and we've all wondered how that'd turn out.

The present as it's there right now, absent of suffering the shameless whims of morons to get what you want. 'Tis yours to savour.

The future as a glimpse of Jessie and James once married with children, and they agree:

That's how they play it given the opportunity!

What, James in blue, for his and Pa's hair, and Jessie wearing purple, like Ma's, with a red shawl for her own, and Ma Jess's orange earrings to copy the beads?

• Money!

• Bun!

• 'Tache!

• Classy pad!

• Fancy gear!

• Pampered pet!

• Identical cups of Earl Grey!

4. Original Blend

Ma and Pa have only got two fans! We care more than the entire fandom has in twenty years!

Rocketshipping art is ten a penny, so why not display a pioneering spirit, sharpen up those pencils and be inspired?

Let your mind expand and marvel at the possibilities of these unchartered territories, and I'll reblog it if it's nice.

Pay attention to the condition of it being nice. I'm not putting up with any old toss.

Real Ma and Pa is what I want too, not those Sinnoh coffin-dodgers.

It's never been done! Every drawing breaks new ground!

I don't like fan fiction, but I wouldn't say 'no' to that either. Recall the 'nice' stipulation again.

Come on, be the first amongst your friends and get ship shape!

5. It Gives Us All Hope

Suppose your favourite amour one day became canon: you imagine that's the end of the matter?

Well it ain't.

Between Ash, Misty, Brock, Jessie, James, Gary and Tracey, there are three-and-a-half out of fourteen parents (Flint doesn't count as a complete man) and one out of twenty-eight grandparents, and that's not enough!

If the series drew to a close with your beloved couple apparently walking into the happily-ever-after, there's no guarantee it'll endure. In fact, the odds are they'll split up within a few years and leave another generation to fend for themselves or starve.

That's right, so don't presume the final episode is all you need to worry about. Can you rest easy knowing it'll go pear-shaped once the camera stops rolling?

It's futile soothing one's worries with:

Oh, but they know what it's like to be alone. They'd never inflict such stress on their children.

Oh really?

Look at that poor showing of grandparents. Either Pokémon has a system reminiscent of the sci-fi film Logan's Run, where everyone over thirty is vapourized, or these disappearing maters and paters were themselves victims of abandonment.

I bet when they settled down, they thought it'd be different for their kids, they'd make sure of it, but no, off they went down that same route of feckless self-indulgence, and that's being kind assuming they intended not to repeat history.

Depressing eh? What's the good in any of us surrendering to romance, real or otherwise, if love is but a mayfly of emotion, and all dreams are doomed to die?

Then Ma and Pa arrive, and suddenly the storm clouds part for a ray of heavenly light.

It's not only that they made the effort in what was probably an arranged marriage and have stayed together from youth, it's that they've stayed together when no one else has, which augments its value.

When separation is commonplace, sticking it out becomes rarer and rarer as any belief in the sanctity of wedlock erodes with every failure.

If they didn't bother, why should I? What's the use when it won't work?

Once that idea enters your head, it's over, and your gloom-laden attitude fulfils itself.

Society is collapsing about Ma and Pa's ears, but they persevere nevertheless, refusing to buckle under the turgid malaise engulfing the arrogant and weak.

It's bloody beautiful, man!

You may suggest an environment of supreme wealth erases normality, and to their class and time period divorce is still taboo, so they don't really have much of choice but to remain wedded.

Ah, but it's not as if they simply tolerate one another for appearances, or carried on for the sake of their son (which is more than anyone else did besides), not when he walked out on them.

They've been married longer than James has lived, so at least eighteen years (don't all squeal at once), and they're still blissfully contented!

They hold hands!

They use terms of endearment like 'dear' and 'my precious'!

They were made for one another!

They work as a team!

They want the same thing for James!

It could bring a stone angel to tears it's so beautiful!

See what success can be achieved when you try? When you endeavour to love the one you're with and make yourself worth loving in return?

Better that than chucking 'em at the first sign of trouble.

Ma and Pa is such an irrevocable union even the despair of losing their only child failed to tear 'em asunder, and that'd defeat many, but not this husband and wife.

Be grateful, for it means all is not in vain.

It doesn't have to be misery and pain: love can last despite the pressure of a wretched, hollow culture bent on self-destruction. Your ship might just succeed too.

God bless 'em for keeping the magic alive!

...

Why do I have the presentiment that I'm going to regret encouraging support?