#painful shapeshifting
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Chapter 6. Othered
Past self harm, dissociation, knife wound, hand trauma, implied painful shapeshifting, whump of a minor [11], implied past abuse, past trauma, implied fantasy racism
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âHow is he?â Kell was practically on the verge of tears themself. They didnât know how Misha could smile and joke while bandaging Finnâs bloodied hand. Even less so since Finn hadnât squeaked, hadnât mumbled or so much as looked at anyone since Kell found the boy cutting himself to pieces in the kitchen.
ââŠIâm not sure. His - his other hand. Never seen anything like it.â Mishaâs smile dropped the second he turned away from the lad, still listless and hollowed out where he sat on the floor of the bunk area. The medic had never looked so unsure, so shaken. âThe captain - â
âNo.â Kell had been adamant when they first flagged down the medic and begged for his discrete assistance. They knew too well Flintâs past to trust him with Finnâs future, not when he was - well, when the boy wasnât human.
At first glance Kell thoughts it was burns, the bleaching of White Fire or eel spit, the way Finnâs recently sun tanned hands were a shock of white. But the webbing, the curl of blunt, black claws where his chipped and bitten fingernails once resided - that was beyond human injury. Human anatomy.
And Finn had tried to hide it from them.
To the point of cutting it away himself.
âI cannot - I cannot treat him if I donât know what - what to do about - about this.â Misha splayed his own hand for emphasis, trying to keep his voice quiet as though Finn couldnât hear them at this proximity. (He probably couldnât - eyes empty and expression slack.)
âThe captain - do not tell the captain about this. You - Finnâs terrified - was terrified we would see whatever this is. The captain wonât⊠Sweet Marie. We can ask her.â
âYou fetch her. IâŠdonât think he should be alone right now.â Misha said with a nod, turning back to Finn and crouching in front of the shivering child, whispering comforts that fell on unhearing ears.
Kell swallowed their fear and put on a brave face, tossing their locs over their shoulder. Keeping secrets from each other was almost impossible - and strictly against the code. Keeping this secret from the captain⊠Kell wasnât sure how long they could do it, but for Finnâs sake, they hoped it was long enough to figure out what to do with him.
Marie was above, scouring the decks with sharp eyes from the helm. Finn was supposed to be learning the wind patterns with her⊠She caught sight of Kell where they emerged from the hold, the pair locking eyes for a brief moment. She could see that something was wrong, immediately stepping away from her post and descending with them to the bunks.
âWhat happened?â There was an uncharacteristic anxiety in her husky voice. She noticed that Kell didnât go straight to Flint.
âItâs - here, Misha.â Kell took a lantern from the wall, the dim light illuminating Finnâs tear stained face and the fresh blood stains on his borrowed shirt. Sweet Marieâs breathing stuttered, a flash of grief and fear across her face as she looked between the boy and Misha, who sat next to him with a protective arm over his shaking shoulders.
âKell found him in the kitchen. Cut - cut his left hand. Much the way they were the first night.â Misha gingerly held up Finnâs freshly bandaged hand, red already leaking through the bandages. (Kell could almost swear the white blotches around his wrist had faded closer to his natural color in the past few minutes.)
âFinn hurt himself?â Marieâs worry was boiling over to anger - not at the boy, of course. Kell shrank with an apologetic grimace. It had been their duty to keep an eye on him, it was their fault he slipped away -
âHe didnât want us to see this.â Misha continued, gesturing Marie crouch as he tentatively lifted Finnâs other hand.
Kell was right - the blotches had faded, at least from their pure white glow to a more natural if still too-pale hue. But the webbing remained, thick and purposeful between his fingers, black claws shining in the lamplight as Misha splayed the boyâs hand. Sweet Marie inhaled sharply, but the glint in her eyes wasnât fear or disgust. Curiosity tinged with compassion, the same as that welling in Kellâs heart.
âFlint?â
âDoesnât know.â They assured her, her face hardening as she nodded. âDoâŠdo you know - ?â
âNothing Iâve ever seen before.â She muttered, cautiously taking Finnâs hand from Misha, running her fingers over the discolored skin. âFinn, sweetheart, can you look at me?â
He flinched at his name, but didnât raise his head. For a few grim moments, Kell worried whatever goodwill and rapport the crew had built with the boy had been completely shattered. But, head wobbling on an unsteady neck, he slowly raised his dim, blood shoot eyes to Marieâs face. She gave his hand, inhuman but unharmed, a gentle squeeze.
âWe wonât tell the captain. ButâŠdo you know why this happened?â
(Did the boy even know what he was?)
Finnâs eyes fled her face, but he nodded, biting the inside of his cheek surely hard enough to draw blood. Kell crouched, hoping their presence added to this circle of safety instead of detracting from it. Finn glanced at them, eyes apologetic.
âWas it the sea water?â They prompted, knowing how rarely Finn spoke even when completely comfortable. The boyâs eyes flashed to them, wide and brimming with tears of fear. Another nod. âOkay. Itâs okay, Finn, we just - weâre trying to figure out how to help you.â
The ladâs expression crumbled, a pillar worn away by the tide finally collapsing into the sea. The distinctly inhuman chirp of a whine in Finnâs throat dissolved into a sob, and he let Misha cradle him onto his lap. Kell took a steadying breath and met Marieâs pensive eyes.
Figuring out how to help him was going to be difficult, if they didnât even know what he was.
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Taglist: @bloodredfountainpen
#whump#past self harm#dissociation#knife wound#hand trauma#whump of a minor#minor whump#painful shapeshifting#past abuse#past trauma#fantasy racism#finning sharks#not dead. surgery just kicked my ass to the curb and broke my ankle and foot in three separate places. now with more screws!#I was in the or a lot longer than they initially planned my poor surgeon was like dude that was way worse than I was expecting like sir.#sir you had the mriâs. I could tell you it was bad ÂŻ\ _(ă)_/ÂŻ
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been in a ref mood. I guess I can have a humanoid sona too, sometimes. They're not just human though, that'd be boring.
#digital art#my fursona#(sorta?)#ref sheet#I have been thinking about identity and kin stuff and coming to maybe thinking of myself as shapeshifter-hearted#the 'human enough' form may change that's a remnant from a much older design and context but for now it's just kinda stuck#also am i in the minority for enjoying drawing refsheets? most people i see talk about it like it's a pain but i like doing them#i don't have to think very hard about the poses lol
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teen wolf meme: [5/5] motifs -> pain
It still hurt! And that's what keeps you human- pain.
#teen wolf#lieam dunbar#lydia martin#scott mccall#erica reyes#kira yukimura#theo raeken#twedit#twgifs#mine#my gifs#twmeme#you guys didn't think i forgot the most important of all the teen wolf motifs did you#like i think it's undeniable that pain is the the throughline for the entire show in a lot of different ways#like there's obviously the pain makes you human aspect#but also the pain will trigger healing in shapeshifters#as well as the were-creatures being able to take away other people's pain#it's actually soooo very interesting to look at how pain is utilised as a motif in the show#cause all of these are things which bring with it a perceived positive#like the person inflicting pain on themselves either overtly or covertly will bring a sort of net good#by perceiving pain the werewolf can stay human they can accelerate their healing or they can take away pain from another living being#which of course links back specifically to how self inflicted injuries are seen throughout the show which i did a meta post a few months ag#even lydia who isn't a shapeshifter is seen injuring herself in season two when she's losing control of herself because of peter#what i'm trying to say is that the idea of pain making you human etc. is an idea that transcends shapeshifters in the show
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now that im writing this it's occuring that i don't think this was ever actually mentioned or implied in game but the idea of the service weapon following the director around has been in my head rent free for a few days
#not quite literally following just kind of subtle-like. like shut it in a desk drawer lock your office for the evening and by the time youre#out of the building it's back in your pocket#get startled awake in the middle of the night and sit up sharply to find it already in your hand#even though the last place you left it was across the room#obviously you cant give it to someone else to hold so that just makes it easier#the shapeshifting would help too. maybe it's just a pocket knife for a little while maybe a butcher knife at home#hmm.. multitool service weapon...#be a real pain in airport security but the director probably has private transport either way#ANYONE ELSE THINKING ABOUT THIS. SPEAK TO ME. IT'S SO DARK IN HERE#control#control remedy#control game#original
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Nimona shapeshifted into a Dalmatian and convinced her adopted Dalmatian mom to stop feeding the oldest sibling. I also fought the Statue of Liberty who cut my foot and it hurt really bad.
#dream#text#July 7th 2023#nimona#dalmatian#shapeshifting#family#abuse tw#body horror tw#injury#statue of liberty#pain#queueueueueueueueueueueueueue
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aching
#art#digital art#my art#wir#wreck it ralph#turbo twins#turbotwins#turbo twins wir#bugtastical doodle#bugtastical comic#shh .. dont tell anyone but im using his shapeshifting as an allegory for my chronic pain and EDS ...
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Nancy Drew s04e10: âI will find a way to fix it. Come hell or high water.â
#whumpedit#whump#nancydrewedit#nancy drew#tristan glass#henry zaga#kennedy mcmann#shapeshifter#shot#shot with arrow#blood#poisoned#weak#pain#groaning#heavy breathing#blanket#cradled#worry#my gifs#this episodeâs whump is so good#love me some supernatural whump⊠itâs my jam! so spam incoming my friends hehe#i donât know if itâs just me but this show is very difficult to gif
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Steady Now (an original poem about chronic pain, fatigue and mobility issues)
#disability#disability vent#disabled poet#the shapeshifter's riddles#neurological disability#mobility issues#health#disability poetry#actually disabled#disabled community#chronic illness#chronic pain#chronic fatigue#chronically ill#poems#original poetry#my poem#poets on tumblr#sad poems#poetry#sad poetry#words words words
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âYou have to deal with it eventually.â Travis flipped the knife around and held it out to Laurance, hilt-first. âIn my experience, itâs better to take the edge off than let it simmer up until it boils you alive.â
Laurance stared at the knife. He had a strange look on his face, one Travis couldnât read. It was usually easier to read Laurance than most other people, he was usually a very expressive man, but this expression was a small one. One where all the nuance was bunched in the low angle of his brows and the slight part of his lips.Â
His eyes were on the sharp edge of the blade, where it pressed against the bare skin of Travisâs forearm. He did not take the knife. There was a tremble in Lauranceâs fingers as they dragged through the sand, closing into a fist.
Travis stabbed the knife into the sand between them. Sunlight bounced off the blade, painting each of their hands in slivers of shining color.
He looked back out over the water. He said, âFor when you need it most.â
For a long time, neither of them said a word. Travis watched the water ebb and flow. It splashed against the sole of Lauranceâs boot. Warlock Valkrum grinned up at Travis from his reflection, twisting away as the waves receded.
Laurance took the knife with him when he left.
#shapeshifter shadow knight solidarity#brought to you by the fun fact that Travis has VERY BAD coping methods for handling the pain of not shifting when he needs to#the full scene also has a Laurance POV#dropofsunlightextras#blood of frost#mcd travis#travis valkrum#shapeshifter travis#laurance zvahl#mcd laurance#kuri writes#mcd#mcd rewrite#child of night#aphmau minecraft diaries#minecraft diaries#aphmau mcd#aphverse#aphblr#tw sh implied#implied self-harm
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Finished this monster of a ref today and because of this one I'm reworking reference sheet prices so you can pick and choose/build your own for what you need, so if you want a headshot you can add it if ya don't ya don't need one.
Iseul Phan belongs to @faywildimaginal
#art tag#oc tag#oc#oc art#nonhuman art#nonhuman#shapeshifter#poc#character of color#mixed character#artists on tumblr#digital art#character sheet#character reference#oc: iseul#also with the in progress prices i have a ref like this would be $700 to give an idea#and thats mostly because for the different human forms that were more masc or fem i actually redraw#i didnt just copy paste and edit them slightly#twas only a slight pain in the ass.
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my mind is a machine that turns superpowers into chronic illnesses
#chronic illness#spoonie#disabled#chronic pain#autism#superpowers#look.#telepaths have chronic overstimulation#the shapeshifter has hypermobility#the oracle canât keep track of where she is in time#the one that can see ghosts also has schizophrenia and canât tell the difference#the blood hunter might have hemophilia#power is a draining force and if they canât control it theyâll all destroy themselves#can you tell iâm chronically ill
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Chapter 5. Clipped
Intentional self harm, knife wound, hand trauma, implied painful shapeshifting, whump of a minor [11], internalized fantasy racism, past abuse, past trauma
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FinnâŠFinn was okay. He was living in a constant state of confusion, just trying to get from one minute to the next now that he wasnât safe in the captainâs quarters. (The trust was shaky at best, constant doubt poisoning every soft smile and gentle hand. Was it a joke? A trick? Bait to lure him to make a mistake?)
He at least expected the ship to make sense, to be predictable the way this captain wasnât. It was, to an extent. Words and shouts and rigging he recognized and could understand. Chores and menial labor that felt safer than anything else this ship carried.
(Save for that pelt, in the cargo hold, so close - )
âYour hands start bothering you, we can find Misha. But Iâm not getting down on my hands and knees to scrub the deck under the stairs - glad we have a shrimp like you around for this.â
This one was called Kell. Dark skinned with long, goldthreaded braids. Finn was proud of himself for remembering so many names and faces. The uniforms on the Lieutenantâs ship made everyone blur together, but the crew here all dressed distinctly.
Friar wore a whale leather apron. Sweet Marie her tricorn hat. The captain, his red coat. And so on. Kell wore a purple scarf, wrapped around their head. There were letters on it, embroidered in shiny green thread, but Finn couldnât look at it long enough to read it.
This - Finn almost felt good doing this. A damp rag in hand, soft wood grain stained green with algae slowly returning to its natural brown hue. It was odd, uncomfortable not having a list hanging over his head, a time limit to finish his chores before the sun set. But, this past week or two was starting to feelâŠsafe. Good.
He was rotating among the crew, working through different aspects of the ship in a circuit. The kitchen with Friar, the bunks with Ainim and Ishvael, the deck maintenance with Kell. He was told he would be at the helm with Marie next - reading the wind maps and current charts.
He never got to do something like that on the Lieutenantâs ship - which wasâŠscary, but, like the sea rocking his hammock at night, didnât feel as scary as it should have felt.
There was a rhythm as he worked, the pitch and yaw of the ship as it charged over the waves was as steady as his own hands, rinsing the rag in a bucket of clean sea water and returning to work at a particularly bad patch of -
His hands burned.
It wasnât the burn of fire, or salted flesh - it was the burn that preceded those dreadful sensations. The skin stretching and bones shifting and -
Finn pitched forward, a sharp hiss strangled before it could leave his lips. He dropped the rag, drawing his hands to his chest to furtively look between them and where Kell stood a ways off, chatting with Marie.
His hands, tanned from his recent days in the sun, were now splotched with white, the blotches creeping up his wrists - as deep as his hands had sunk into that bucket of sea water. (How could he have forgotten - ?) If it was discoloration alone, maybe no one would notice - save for Misha, who might check them despite having removed the last of the bandages days ago -
But his hands were changed, even from just a short submergence.
Webbing had crept up from between his fingers, stretching as he flexed his hand and hanging loose between the digits as he curled his hands smaller. His nails too had changed, thick and dark and no longer bitten back to the nailbeds. It hurt - but it would hurt a lot more once someone noticed, when someone told the captain -
He needed to take care of this. Quickly.
Otherwise the captain would cut him - just as the Lieutenant always had - but maybe, just maybe if he did it himself, it wouldnât hurt so badly. (He couldnât stomach the thought of Captain Flint, the first soft hands he had known in so long, turning a blade on him. Finding out he was a monster - )
(âDo you really think anyone could love something like you?â)
Finn, for all his newfound confidence, hadnât lost his skills forged on the Lieutenantâs ship. Kell didnât even realize he had left, seal skin boots soft and his slight frame easily dipping between the sun glare and shadows to slip below deck. There it was even easier - almost no one was here during the day - and at that thought he paused, eyes drawn to the cargo holdâs door.
(He could almost still smell it, still feel it under his fingers - no. Not yet. He couldnât get caught stealing. Not without a way to escape - and the sea was not an escape he could risk. Not here, in the open ocean.)
The kitchen was empty, last nightâs stew kept at a low simmer over dying coals. The kitchen wouldnât be empty forever; it was almost time for Friar to make his rounds with water and a midday snack of dried fruit and meat for the crew. Finn had to work quickly.
He pulled a knife from the work table, stumbling back as the ship pitched beneath his feet, but reeling forward to splay a webbed hand on the table. He suddenly realized he was panting, adrenaline rushing into his shaking hands, tears welling in his eyes. No matter how many times the Lieutenant carved away the webbing, it always came back. It always hurt. And it always would. He needed to learn to do this himself, to take care of himself. And that meant making sure no one found out what he really was.
(What was he?)
He could do this.
The first cut, run along his left index finger, bled more than he remembered. The webbing too seemed thicker, more resistant. Or maybe he was just starting to shake, nauseous and lightheaded from pain. He moved the knife to the opposite side of the webbing, along his middle finger. Black spots started to float across his vision, a strangled whine in his throat as tears fell freely. One section was almost done - he just needed to cut the base, the meeting spot between those fingersâŠ
His world flashed white as he finally cut away the last sinews of flesh, the pain exhausting and the thought of cutting another section of webbing away was almost impossible to fathom. But he had to - he had to or else someone would see, someone else would cut him -
And he couldnât fathom anyone on this ship hurting him the way the Lieutenant hurt him, not without shattering this fragile dream of safety.
As long as he was the one to do this, no one else had to.
He started on the opposite side of his left middle finger, vision blurry with tears and fading gray. Just - just a few more and then he couldâŠfind Misha. Tell Misha that he had been clumsy. Careless. Blisters or something. Something - a good excuse -
He was stalling. Finn pressed the blade down and bit his tongue until he tasted blood, but a sob still wracked through him as he continued to cut.
He had almost finished his left hand when footsteps clattered down the ladder, boots against the boards as someone stalked the lower deck.
Already? Friar shouldnât have come back so soon - he thought he had more time -
âFinn? Finn are you - fucking Blackblood kid, you scared me. Thought youâŠâ Kellâs voice trailed off, and Finn felt his hands go (blessedly) numb, even as he continued to grip the knife. âFinn. Finn, put down the knife. Now.â
He was - he was so close he just - he just needed to finish and - and somehow - somehow cut his right hand and everything would go back to the way it had been. Finn brought the knife down quickly, a flush of nausea heating his cheeks as the last chunk of webbing was severed from between his pink and ring finger. He was shaking too hard, the knife thankfully wedged into the table under his hand - he would have dropped it otherwise.
(âYou got a da around?â Friarâs voice from the other day seemed to echo mockingly in his every hollow sob.)
Kell was yelling at him, walking up behind him - surely about to hit him or - or finish the other hand -
(It would be easier if someone helped with his other hand.)
Finn shuddered, knees giving out as the ship crested another wave. The table was slick with blood - his blood, and the adrenaline was still keeping his hands clumsy and numb. Finn sobbed, keeping his cut hand flat on the table and reaching his other up to splay beside it.
He didnât care if they made it hurt more, or salted, or burned the cuts - he just needed Kell to finish it so he could - so he could stop thinking about how much his hands hurt.
The shock of Kell dropping to their knees and wrapping him in a hug, muttering panicked and desperate comforts, made even that pain far away.
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Taglist: @bloodredfountainpen
#whump#self harm#knife wound#hand trauma#painful shapeshifting#nonhuman#whump of a minor#minor whump#fantasy racism#past abuse#past trauma#finning sharks#*looks at my rough outline written well before I realized I was trans* hey. rude.#i am doing a lot of travelling the next few weeks + won't have internet access july 5-15th so idk when the next chapter will get out#so enjoy some quality finn whump :]#note to self to edit next links to permalinks. when I can leave the recliner and actually use a computer without passing out from pain.
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The Runaway Snippets
I've decided to say 'fuck it' and start posting little snippets from The Runaway, because I can. And also because Tem and Dean have been taking over my brain as of late. (the Pack trio are still up there too, but they're giving the dramatics a rest for now.)
So have some cute fluff this morning, I guess~
The cabin is on one side of a clearing shaped like a lopsided egg, the bigger house Temperance had only partially paid attention to nestled on the opposite side. And on the far side of the clearing, a coyote is chasing a little girl.
The girl is young, maybe five or seven, with a head of wild dark red hair that flies around her face like a cloud. Thereâs something odd about her, but from this distance Temperance canât tell. The coyote looks like a coyote. Bigger than a coyote should be, maybe.
The coyote lunges for the girl.
Temperance jerks forward.
The girl shrieks. And then she laughs.
âThe fuck...â Temperance stumbles to a halt near the porch steps, every thought forgotten as he tries to make sense of what heâs seeing.
The coyote had lunged, but instead of teeth slicing into defenseless flesh, it had simply pressed itâs nose into the girlâs shoulder near the strap of her overalls. Then it had leapt away, dropping into a bow as itâs tail wagged. Now itâs running away from the girl, just slow enough for her to keep up, just quick enough to make catching it a challenge.
Theyâre playing.
Shapeshifter taglist (if this still applies? let me know?) @sunset-a-story @touloserlautrec @ceph-the-ghost-writer
#wip: shapeshifter#shapeshifter: the runaway#i've had chest pains from anxiety for the last week#trying to give myself chest pains from how fucking adorable these guys are instead
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Shift was next on the docket for Antihero Week! I decided that the shapeshifters in the Parallelsverse get the short end of the stick with their abilities: sure, they can turn into anyone and anything, but thereâs a trade off. Changing forms more often will cause the body to gradually and permanently change. A lot of the shapeshifters have problems like scoliosis due to having to reform their bodies so much, which means that the more deformed ones are in constant pain. Shift was one of the superhumans that Bradley Jade had his scientists experiment on, using her as an agent to infiltrate and assassinate due to her powers. They also kept trying to push her abilities further and further with their testing, hence why she looks less human now even when in her ârestingâ form đ
Sheâs part of a small group of antiheroes who go after people they think deserve their wrath, though she does missions on her own to track down and kill Bradleyâs scientists who escaped being arrested,,,
#ladypepperofdavenshire#original character#parallels comic project#inktober#inktober 2024#shapeshifter#superhuman#superpowers#antihero#shift#she also uses the money she makes doing assassin stuff for morphine#it helps with the painâŠ
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đșđ©žWerewolf on its period vibes
inspired by how i woke up at 2am this morning
#my periods are incredibly painful#so i try to cope by pretending itâs my body trying to shapeshift like itâs meant to#blood tw#vent art#therian#therianthropy#otherkin#alterhuman#nonhuman#werewolfkin#werewolf#wolfkin#werewolf therian#shapeshifterkin#otherkin art#therian art#kin art#art#procreate
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i'm thinking of this idea again and chiyo having three shikigami with official names that she disregards, instead calling them koneko ( meaning kitten; resembles a normal cat, good for reconnaissance ), koineko ( meaning small cat; resembles a bakeneko & perhaps is capable of shapeshifting into its opponent? ) and oneko ( meaning large cat; resembles a nekomata, more of a tank with fire-based attacks )...... yes it's a silly bit, but it's a bit chiyo would commit to okay :' )) and i'm thinking that chiyo perhaps was always capable of summoning these shikigami ( or maybe weaker ones bc i want there to be growth uvu ), but, in her mind, she was never particularly talented nor strong enough to continue being a sorcerer. her strengths would be better suited to working behind the scenes, guiding and protecting those who were talented and strong.
after all, chiyo is hyperaware of how broken jujutsu society is and how sorcerers are pushed to their very limits whether they're children or adults. it would be stupid to get herself killed as a sorcerer when she might be able to save more people as a manager, as odd as it might sound. chiyo very much weighed her options and her chances before she made the decision to quit practicing jujutsu as a sorcerer.
now all of that is to say!! i ultimately believe that chiyo would push herself to train and get better after the shibuya incident. there's really no other choice to her -- japan has experienced a great loss and great change overnight. she doesn't have the luxury of choosing to be weak. she needs to be strong. determination and hard work can only get her so far, but it's far enough to at least not be dead weight or helpless if a situation arises. i don't know if she'd go so far as to enter the culling games?? but that's a thought to contemplate another day bc this has already gotten long asdfg
#does this make sense for the world of jjk..... i hope so bc i'm hyperfixating on this idea a lil :' ))#before i've had such a hard time imagining chiyo past the shibuya incident bc there's so much action and conflict#we don't get to see much of what people like ichiji are doing in the meantime#and it's a little easier to think of her in that setting if she's a lil more capable of defending herself#plus!! pls consider training and sparring with chiyo... she's so competitive so it'd be a lil funny :' ))#anyway i'm here now and will be queuing those one liners and then!! we'll see what i manage after that!!#OH and more as a note to myself so i don't forget this as an idea!!#koineko could be more like a kasha with either fire or lightning abilities?? and maybe be more of a glass canon type shikigami#i might like that idea a lil more than the shapeshifting one uvu#i sit before flowers & hope they will train me in the art of opening up | headcanons#embrace this pain | jujutsu kaisen
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